#what am i gonna do without my emotional support musical

[diorgirl444]

an absolute loss for the uk newsies girlies

[rainbowbeanstyles]

I'm gonna share here these tips this psychologist shared with us fans grieving over Liam💔(the call was for spanish speaking fans, so I'm gonna try my best to translate it). A bit long.

Validate your own grief Many people won't understand, but your grief is completely natural and you should not be ashamed of it. Grief is when you experience the loss of something or someone significant/important in your life, doesn't always have to be a family member or friend. Don't reduce the artist to an everything or your childhood They are your memories, they happened and it was great when they did. Remember them in their true nature. Try to find where to place the artist. Do not lose sight of everything else around you because of this loss. Identify your role as a fan Try not to reach a limit where you find yourself in a parasocial relationship with the artist. Express and communicate your emotions You don't need to do it with someone else, you can also express and communicate your emotions by yourself. Don't bottle them up. You can talk alone, you can write on a journal, you can scream. As long as you let it all out. Find a group of supportive people People that you know will help you during these difficult moments. They don't have to be family or friends. Between fans, you are not alone🫂 Have a healthy and centered routine If you isolate yourself constantly, your mind will get used to thinking of grief only. Have a mixed/diverse rutine. It will feel really bad at first, but eventually your mind will assimilate it and start to clear up. Identify your reach as a fan Do not overwork yourself, try not to control everything. If a decision happened without your control, it's not your fault. Attend to your own needs and reactions Grief is personal. Think about the way your hurt feels and the way it's affecting you. Try to find the best way to handle this. Expose yourself to the artist gradually As the days pass, it's good to expose yourself to the artist so you don't develop a permanent fear. Gradually expose yourself to his content. You can start by pictures, listening to little bits of songs and his voice. One second, five seconds, litte by little. Remember his music as something nice, beautiful, something happy and it will help a lot. Don't let your emotions affect your future Our emotions distort our thoughts. "I'm never going to get over this / I will never be the same", those are emotional thoughts, you have them because of fear and/or sadness. Do not let them lead you. Ask yourself "Why am I struggling to accept this? Why am I scared?". Don't condemn yourself. Confront your problems, don't run away from them Try not to depend on artists or different content and having them as a complete safe space (HARD I KNOW). Think about what's making you want to run to this content for safety. Find solutions or ways to manage situations that make you want to "hide" or "run away".

That's it! I hope me sharing this helps at least a little, I know it helped me so I thought it'd be nice to share. I tried my best, if a tip confused you, you can ask me and I'll try to explain it better💌

Also the call had a lot of views! It was very sweet that all these fans got to find a space where their feelings were validated and understood:'( Take care everybody and I'm sending you a million more hugs.

[adeptus-nonsense]

humans are poets as well as warmongers

Humans nowadays are well known far and wide in this galaxy. Mostly because they are some of the most chaotic, Stupid or bold "daredevils" around (think i used that word correctly).

While i do recall my first meeting with the humans very V E R Y badly since i served in the contact wars when the Graktuka a well known theocratic empire and very influential and politically strong contender in the galaxy stumbled across human colonies. They saw this as an hostile action since the planet they were settling were a holy world, That however is a story for another time.

Just know that the Graktuka empire shrunk by a significant margin to the point where they asked for militairy support. The humans had apparently developed a kind of magnetic accelerated firing plattform piercing through multiple layers of hull completely ignoring shields. Given that Graktuka empire relied on shields since most of the galactic arsenal is plasma based but their hull wasn't weak at all. Unconventional weapons had to be used to even dent their armour. Realising that the humans ships were massive but rather primitive and slow a ground based invasion was seen to be the optimal way off going.

If you were there you would know why humanity is as feared as they are. Masters of the what did they call it? Art of war? Yeah something like that. Fields of bombs buried into the ground detonating with a light step. Weapons dedicated to injure soldiers just enough to save them but not kill them in order to make the invader spend more resources on saving said soldier.

Even our bases of operations with shields were not safe, let me tell you if you think regular humans can cause damage to stuff by touching things dont even get near trained saboteurs with your stuff. They break things in a ways that seems like a simple malfunction and will work after a simple repair. When the shield generator first broke down i thought i could fix it in a matter of minutes, I still havent fixed it to this day and i have taken that thing apart thousands of times without finding the fault.

safe to say we lost that war and this is just one one planet. This was the short part. Just be glad that they pack bond with just about anything. Saw a human carry a cleaning unit and named it "Ronald the Roomba" And that is apparently our ships mascot. But this is things we all are aware of. Let me tell you of their poetic side

This is not something most of us see as common knowledge about humans, but their cultural aspect besides war is for a lack of better words beautiful. This thing they call music.

for all their wars they know how brutal they are and write songs about everything they did wrong and how they wished how they could change it. But that is not all, according to human Jakob music portrays emotions and ones feelings in a way that regular communication doesn't and you dont even need to understand the words to understand the emotion said piece is carrying. Which i know to be true, it's almost therapeutic

I think My log of it will be a better way to describe since it is honestly hard to describe [alltough be careful their music is quite loud for most prey species]

Year 4574 human sector 456854 log 1 of service leave. I am currently here on a passion project of mine. While the war has ended 6 years ago off now the tensions do still exist. Me and some comrades in service are taking some time off and going to what humans call a bar and apparently there is a human performing. I have no idea of how this is gonna go. All i know is humans are incredibly chaotic especially when intoxicated. Still i should probably record this for the culture scientists at social scientific hub.

Log 2

*murmur and loud talking in the background at the bar*

"for clarifications sake, my name is Groakslo, i am here with my two comrades Kyukla and Telosa. We are currently at the bar only to see that humans are actively drinking poison, i was quite shocked to hear this and asked if it isn't dangerous and the bartender said and i quote "nah we gucci" note to self find out what gucci is."

Log 3

"the humans were beginning to get rowdy and even slight outbursts of violence did occur but nothing the surprisingly loud bartender couldn't handle by a very concerning threat, followed by him saying that the band is preparing so settle down. Telosa and i looked at each other very confused but still awaited this "band"

Log 4

"the band arrived and started to set up weird things, long instruments with metal strings, of varying thickness, i asked the a human who were close by what they were and he said instruments. I asked what they were used for and he said to play music. I was getting nowhere and decided to see for myself what they were gonna do."

Log 5 (i decided to be quiet for this one)

"welcome folks and aliens of all sorts shapes and kinds! Thank you for coming to this bar for our first debut our name is The Lines In between, and for those who dont know human music, we'll slowly lean you into it with this first on and it is namned Memories beneath the stars" [3 hours of music recorded]

Final log (yes i know i could voice record but i want to write while the memory is fresh i'm bad with words)

I never knew that humans could make such songs. Telosa and Kyukla was particurlarly affected. The song was as the name suggest the memories we made sneaking out to watch the stars as younglings, reminiscing about the times when the stars were the most unknown, adventure filled and beautiful place to be in. But also about the connections they've lost over the years, the good times wiped away like a water slowly polishing a stone into sand. It was odd, beautiful calm, sad all at once.

The voices i heard when i fought humans in war can not even be compared to that of the singer in that band, what is most perplexing is that the once borderline rioting bar was completely quiet when the band was performing, almost as if in a trance completely captured by the singers voice, smooth, rough, raspy but controlled in a way i thought impossible. A song about 4 human minutes somehow managed to capture the full emotional spektrum of not only humans but multiple species in that bar.

Humans truly are an astounding species. Truly a species that are on all of the extremes, stupidity, ingenuity, violence, poetry and many many more. For now i'll sign off and hope you at the social cultural exchange fellas have a field day with the music file attached to this.

Grokslo, highly decorated former geothermical shield generator militairy specialist.

[heybiji]

hi i found your page cause of your Masks art!!

imma be running a game of masks and was wondering if you have any tips

Oh hello! Very cool you're gonna run a MASKS game, it can be a lot of fun!

I'm not sure how helpful my advice will be since I'm still learning and am not sure how well I actually run the game haha, but for starters there's a whole lot of great advice on Reddit that will help with the mechanics and the structure of the game. In my opinion, the Principles section in the GM part of the core book is critical and succinct and is great advice for running ttrpgs in general.

my top advice is:

"We play to get the next issue picked up!"

Play the game like we want people to buy the next issue and not put the series down! Take chances! Make big choices! Make it interesting! Be bold!!

other things:

Theme. Establish the themes of your story early on. This will help you understand how the world and story should respond to the PCs. And make the themes interesting to you! For example, beyond the general coming-of-age story themes already built into the character arcs, I lean heavily into the concepts of fame, celebrity, and the 24-hour news cycle. And all the things that were going on in the early 2000s.

Be a Fan of the PCs. This is my favorite rule from The Principles. Make sure all your players soak this rule in. The MASKS mechanics mean characters will often make less-than-optimal decisions, so players must feel supported in their character choices. You should be a fan of the characters, and so should your players! They should want to help bring out every character's arc, not just their own.

Treating Human Life as Meaningful is what Makes Threats Real. This is another principle, but yeah, make the world's NPCs feel like they matter, and that will make the world worth protecting. Treat them as people. Give everyone Drives, not just your Villains. Mentally treating even non-villain NPCs as having Conditions can do a lot to help with characterization.

Condense. Condense your world, your NPCs, make the world feel smaller. In our game, for example, having the Protege's mentor also be the same superhero who saved the Delinquent years ago was a great decision.

Playlists. I have a bunch of different playlists for the campaign, from a big one of music of the time (our game is set in 2004) to playlists for important NPCs, to playlists I asked my players to curate for their characters. Music inspires me a bunch, a song can help create a villain for me, and I also like choosing a different "ending" song for every episode based on whatever happened.

Stories. Okay, here's the thing. I don't really care much for superhero stories. Why did I choose to run MASKS, you ask? Because of the emotion-based mechanics. That's my shit. But anyway, I don't take in much superhero media... But I do LOVE movies and television and stories in general, and I think taking in a lot of "short stories" is helpful to develop an instinct on how to pace a story, make a character or moment memorable, etc. And because MASKS has an episodic nature, this is extremely important! The sheer amount of movies I've watched has helped me a whole bunch, since they have to get the Beginning, Middle, and End done within such a short time frame.

Don't Wait. This is an instinct I've picked up from some of my favorite media. Don't wait for The big important moment. Make a lot of big important moments, and make the characters have to make a lot of important choices, and keep the momentum going. Paint yourself into a corner and then force yourself to think of ways out! It makes the story more interesting. (this may not apply to everyone, I get this kind of mindset from shows like Breaking Bad and Succession, which for your story could be too much haha)

Everyone Works. Okay, I am not a benevolent, sweet GM, I will not smile with tears in my eyes and quietly work away and accept that without complaint. no way. I make my players help me a lot. I'm gonna whine. Guys I'm doing so much work! Guys this is hard! Weeehhh! MAKE THEM HELP YOU. RUNNING A GAME IS SOOOOO MUCH WORK OH MY GOD IT'S SOOOOOO MUCH WORK!!! Ask them to take notes! Ask them to treat the world with sincerity! Ask them to make NPCs! Ask them to play NPCs! Ask them to help fill out the world! Ask them to tell you what their character wants to do next so you have extra time to consider it! Ask them to make playlists for their characters to help you figure out how to engage with them! Don't let them just show up on playday!! I'm a "you get what you give" kind of GM. You're a player too and you deserve to enjoy the game as well, and having the other players help you helps a BUNCH. PUT THEM TO WORK.

what else. uh. visuals help a lot with engagement so i subscribed to a bunch of modern battlemap patreons. i run using Foundry which lists the rules upon every roll which is great for me, someone with horrid memory. if you're lucky and favored by god, you'll have a benevolent player that will be the scribe for your sessions and log everything down so they can be referred back to (again, great for someone like me with a horrid memory). remember to give focus to the PC's out-of-costume lives as well. make NPCs in response to your PCs (superheroes, villains, touch on something of a PC in the creation process). be silly. be serious. be sincere.

i'm still figuring out how to run the game, maybe i'll have better advice on a later day, but i hope this can help some! sorry this is longwinded and more a stream of consciousness than it is succinct.

[deadguywalkin]

seb+sam+alex hcs because i am STILL gay and extremely evil + some pre t seb hcs because… sigh

( sam+alex centric!! aside from the last part )

cw: dramatic switch from ‘yeah alex and sam are traumatized’ to ‘sam likes boobs’. that pretty much sums this up. (minimal nsfw and most of it is jokey)

jewelry:

alex: minimal. no rings or bracelets because they get in the way. ‘does sam’s pick count? c’mon, i’m an edgy boy too!!’

sam: medium. face piercings and some rings

sebastian: not actually that much, but he only wears silver. gothic necklaces of dragons on swords, silver rings, and the likes. maybe even a blood vial.

hands:

alex: missing his whole index finger?? big big hands with some little scars. engulfs whoever’s hand he’s holding.

sam: calloused fingers, tiny scars from hurting himself a lot on accident. he has very shaky hands. also has his little memory bands

sebastian: thin fingers and careful, steady hands. chipped black nail polish. there is more of a reddish tint on his knuckles.

—————

sebastian carries bandaids on him because sam is an idiot and alex is also an idiot (they’re not idiots they just have 0 spatial awareness)

alex wears sam’s guitar pick as a necklace. i refuse to draw him without it

alex carries their band equipment when sam whines about being too lazy to do it

seb never gets scared during horror movies or any horror experiences. however samalex are gripping onto each other like they’re about to die

alex cannot bear to watch super violent graphic stuff for obvious reasons. sambastian will always skip those parts ahead in movies for him because they already know. not that he can’t do it himself, but it’s just a small gesture.

alex is a huge ‘i’m sorry, did i do something wrong? I’m really sorry. you can tell me if i did.’ kind of guy when the vibes are off. he just has a fear of being useless or annoying and needs to be reassured.

sam needs to be reassured that he doesn’t have to always take care of everyone or constantly be the emotional support beacon. he also needs some support and to take a break!!

sam just has his best friends memorized by heart. ‘you were gonna ask abbie to hang out..? bro, don’t you know? she’s gonna have a headache tomorrow.’

sam has a habit of biting at his lips, ‘my mouth gets bored!

samalex are insanely emotionally intelligent, compassionate and understanding even if they’re not all there. they’re more tender and sweet when it comes to someone opening up and just know exactly what to say and what they need to hear.

on sebs end, he’s pretty bad at reading people and understanding everyone even if he’s smarter than the other two are. he’s quick to get it but doesn’t know how to comfort people and is more of a chill ‘oh.. that sucks, dude. me too, anyways, wanna light a blunt and talk about it?’ kind of guy

^^ he’s only good at that stuff when it comes to understanding books/movies/music. that’s where it’s over for samalex (sam aside from the music part

“what are you watching?”

“a 6 hour commentary video about sonic.exe”

“adventure time!!”

“black mirror.”

“oh..”

(sam has a short attention span but locks in when it comes to commentary videos about random niche shit)

pre-t trans seb down here

alex to pre top surgery seb: “c’mere.. stress balls”

post top surgery seb to alex: “c’mere.. stress balls.”

sam just enjoys having his face stuffed in boobs. doesn’t care wether they’re pecs ‘boobs’ or regular boobs.

seb is confident in his gender pre t or not. he’s more of a ‘i genuinely believe and know i am a man’ than a ‘i want to be a man’

..as confident as he is and as much as he loves them, he feels a slight resentment to samalex because he just feels this hint of jealousy and insecurity around them. they’re just such big representations of masculinity. it makes him feel a little sick that he feels that way because he knows he should love and appreciate them for being patient, he just can’t help it. he will find himself comparing them to him.

sebastian randomly showed up at sam’s house on a random night when he was younger and came out to him before he asked for help cutting all of his hair off. he already had his emo shag but ended up keeping it 

seb has a hard time remembering to take his binder off.. though it makes him feel better in his skin, his ribs are about to explode.

cuddling and then a hand just reaches up and.. squeeze (seb doesn’t even question it)

this ones a bit of a shorter dump;p

[ckret2]

Does bill have "a type"? Since you said he only dates every millennium, what kinds of stuff would catch this lunatic's eye? What would motivate him?

You're getting a read more because I listed every single blessed thing I could think of. The tl;dr:

artists (who depict him)

hot eyeballs (subjective)

no head

bright natural coloration

emotional doormats

party animals

nerds, provided they're also attractive other ways

worshipers

things that can injure him

getting gifts

someone who expresses interest first but lets him take the lead

really tacky expensive displays of wasting wealth

someone he thinks is similar enough to "understand" him

This is the first point because it's the answer he'd give: if you ASK him, he'll say he's "a complete sucker for those deep, brooding artist types." He'll say this like it's his biggest weakness. He says it like it's a charming little character flaw. This is the narrative he tells himself. What he ACTUALLY means is if you hit on him, and if you have created art of him (visual art, sculpture, music, poetry), the odds that he'll return the interest go up by 1000%. He is incredibly vain, he loves art of himself, and "willing to give Bill art of himself" is an insanely attractive trait.

Some species have sexy eyeballs. Other species don't. It just so happens that Earth, as a whole, has evolved an array of eyeballs that are by and large pretty sexy when compared to the multiversal baseline. Those little, like, thready filament things in the irises? Mesmerizing. Visible veins?? Drive him crazy. Bloodshot eyes? Gonna be haunting his fantasies for weeks. Top tier is those frog eyes with multiple colors or crazy crackly-looking patterns.

He's not a fan of heads. Like, when a species puts a face on a little bobbly looking thing separated from the rest of the body, rather than right on the torso where it belongs? Looks weird. It's not a dealbreaker but he's definitely more attracted to species that put their faces where they belong. Similarly, a mouth without an eye in it looks weird.

Big fan of bright colors. You know what's attractive? Looking like Lisa Frank colored you. Wearing bright colors isn't as good as being bright colors, but he still finds wearing bright colors to be an attractive trait.

If you combine the last three points, I think that I accidentally made Bill's ideal lover a poison dart frog.

Usually at some point pretty early in the dating process he's gonna say something like "Just so you know—really, I'm not as bad as all the rumors and gossip and ancient legends and globally-broadcasted warning PSAs make me sound. But: I am totally crazy. You wanna stick with me, you've gotta be cool with crazy." What he's looking for is someone who says "oh I am SO cool with crazy, I am the MOST cool with crazy, crazy is GREAT." When he says this, he's not saying "I'm actually mentally ill and need someone who's supportive and understanding." He's also not saying "I'm a wild crazy fun party guy and I want a partner who can keep up with that lifestyle." What he's saying is "I am an inconsistent and inconsiderate asshole who will show no regard for you, and in a year when you're complaining about the selfish harmful things I'm doing, I'll get to roll my eye and go 'I THOUGHT you SAID you were COOL with crazy. Are you NOT cool with crazy??' And then I'll complain about you to my friends." So: he'll focus on naive emotional doormats he can push around. He'll probably draw back from someone who stands up to him, unless he got seriously interested in them before they grew a spine.

But that said, he is also more likely to show interest in people who can keep up with his lifestyle. He parties with apocalypse machines. If he sees an alien at a party where three absolutely wasted demigods started mixing sink chemicals and accidentally set off a big bang that took out half the neighborhood, and the next weekend he sees that alien at another party? That means they party hard, they don't scare easy, they don't die easy, and they avoided the cops. That's somebody he wants to spend time with. If they're not lover material, they might be Henchmaniac material. Similar opinions on substance use and mass destruction a plus.

He's kinda into nerds. Not in and of themselves, but if they already hit other traits he likes, that's a plus. If he has a choice between two identical people and one's dumb as a rock, he prefers the one who knows lots of things and likes to share facts and trivia. Bill goes for long, long stretches without feeling curiosity, and those stretches typically coincide with when he feels most depressed; someone who can drive him to think a little bit is a godsend.

If someone literally worships him, like as a god, he's into that. It's not partner material but he'll put a star next to their name in his booty call list.

Any novel Extreme Sensations, he likes. Particularly pain. Not a lot of stuff can hurt him in his true form. If someone can make him feel pain, that's interesting to him. Not even necessarily in a BDSM way. If holding someone's hand feels like being electrocuted, or they give off a gas that makes everything too loud and makes him see weird colors? That's someone he wants to touch.

I think I've just added another trait to the "poison dart frog" column.

His love language is gifts & favors, both giving and receiving. If somebody gives him a gift, he'll remember them positively. Even if it's a kinda lame gift. It makes him feel liked. Roses & chocolates would work on him.

He's not liable to be the first to express interest, because he finds being rejected utterly devastating. On the other hand, he prefers to take the lead/call the shots in a relationship. So if somebody lets it be known that they're interested in him, but then hangs back to allow him to make the first move? Appealing.

He's a sucker for gold and tacky displays of wealth. Like he's sort of disgusted by wealthy people, but he's very into wealth. If you're rich have fun with it. If you're not ordering a $900 sundae coated with gold leaf just because you can then what's the POINT. Also, Bill is tacky. If some multidimensional billionaire decides to show an interest in him by gifting him an extremely ugly diamond-covered top hat, he'd probably let them do things to him that he wouldn't even confess to his doctor. (He doesn't have a doctor but.) I think what this boils down to is that he's only into rich people who are living like they want to go broke as soon as possible.

He goes through most of his existence feeling like Nobody Understands Him. Part of this is because he's bad at communicating his sincere feelings & emotional needs and even worse at relating to or caring about other people; but part of it is just because there's not a whole lot of people who can directly relate to "my ambition drove me to destroy my entire universe and ever since then I've been grappling with the paralyzing guilt while struggling to find a new universe." So when he DOES meet somebody who he believes can really, truly understand him the way most people can't? He emotionally latches onto them HARD. Not necessarily romantically, but it easily could be. This is last on the list but probably the most important point to getting a genuine emotional connection rather than fleeting physical attraction from him.

Example that hits multiple of the above points: one of his longest & most emotionally meaningful relationships was with a sentient black hole who—quite literally—destroys anyone who gets too close to her, and is constantly wracked with chronic pain due to being a fucking black hole. She did poetry at open mic nights. She'd go up to a mic and say something like "this poem is called The Taste Of Unwillingly Consuming The Solar System You Called Your Home" and then scream into the microphone for five minutes without pause. Bill was like "she's the only one in the multiverse who Gets It." He is a sucker for brooding artists. She let him get away with unspeakable things because he's one of the only entities powerful enough to get physically close to her and survive. Which was incredibly painful, but hey, he was into that too.

Maybe they'd still be together if she looked like a frog.

[toushindai]

totk spoilers but are we ACTUALLY meant to think it’s poetic or flattering or triumphant that Rauru was like “oh YEAH? Well in thousands of years this guy called Link is gonna kick your ass”

How much has he even heard about Link? He must have had at least one more conversation about him with Zelda because the Master Sword doesn’t come up in the Zelda and Sonia tear, and by the King’s Duty tear Rauru’s just like oh don’t worry, if we don’t finish Ganondorf off I’m sure your bf can handle him. As I’ve said before, his “We rely on your knight” line rubbed me the wrong way starting with its appearance in the trailer, and it really does not feel less entitled after watching said knight (and that legendary sword he carries) very very VERY nearly get one-shotted by Ganondorf at the beginning of the game. And Zelda knows this! What does she feel watching her Better Dad Substitute sacrifice himself and simultaneously sic the evil bad guy on Link—a siccing which explicitly shapes Ganondorf’s attitude towards Link at the beginning of the game? At what point did she have the emotion of “welp. I know why Ganondorf knew Link’s name now.” The musical blending of the LOZ theme/hero’s theme with Rauru’s theme seems to suggest that it’s not an emotion meant to be had at exactly that moment, but I cannot watch Rauru sneer “remember that name” without yelling HE DOESN’T NEED THAT INFORMATION at the screen.

I played through the GSI in Japanese recently and Rauru did seem a touch less entitled to Link than I’ve been reading him—mostly because of the formal, polite, outgroup-equal language he used with him—but I still can’t get over the extent to which Rauru heard about Link a few times and decided, sight unseen, that he was going to clean up Rauru’s mess. My man what made you think that. What gave you the right to decide that. And how frightening to be Zelda and watch Rauru pin all the world’s hope on her beloved knight who Ganondorf absolutely fucking wiped the floor with. We see this worry in her in the Master Sword in Time cutscene! To what extent can Zelda’s transformation and before that her petition to the other tribes of Hyrule for Link’s sake be understood as a forced action due to Rauru’s conviction that Link could do this no sweat? Almost entirely, I feel—but does the game know that?

I just. Isn't it intentional? Doesn't it have to be? The fact that Rauru already needs the correction, once, that he cannot and should not face the Demon King alone. Then his melodramatic claim that Link has got this on lock. Then Zelda being like 😬 not sure about this actually and going through the whole process of talking to the ancient sages + draconifying for the sake of the Master Sword. Because Rauru absolutely set Link up to fail and Zelda is the one making sure Link has the resources, including the support of others, he needs to succeed. And the game is so much about community, about not doing things on your own.

And yet the way the scene is scored and animated and the way all the other characters talk about Rauru's sacrifice seems to treat this as a a moment of culmination, of triumph. I am getting such mixed messages here.

Understand, I’m saying all of this with an aching fondness for this poor self-deluded hypocrite. And also teeth-grinding frustration. I think he deserves to feel suffocatingly humiliated when Link almost didn’t survive Ganondorf’s attack and I also have tremendous sympathy for the shame and terror that it might be far too late to correct his mistake that he must have felt as he waited for Link to wake up. Both of those things. Hopelessly lonely man who found people to love him and built himself into a role he was never adequate for. I wish the game looked at this a little more. I wish I could tell if the game intended this at all.

(This is not the most intelligently written post but I assure you I mean every word of it.)

[samantha-and-her-chaotic-desires]

My perspective on Alastor from Hazbin Hotel, and my ideas on how else to present him: writing AND art.

Hi guys! As y'all know, Alastor is my favorite Hazbin Hotel character. He's one of the main focuses in most of my fanfics, series, side blogs, art, etc. etc.. However, there's a certain way I write/draw/see him. This is gonna be rambly so beware!! <3 (side note: I still don't support Vivziepop's actions xx)

Under the cut I'll be giving personal portrayal, critiques, gripes, issues, compliments, and even rewrites/"redesigns". I do NOT belong Hazbin Hotel nor Alastor (created by Vivziepop). This is an interpretation of what has been produced, how I look at it, and what I can do to rewrite. I am NOT fixing anything, so please do not say that I am.

DISCLAIMER: DO NOT COME AND HARASS ME. This is MY personal interpretation of him. I have issues with Hazbin Hotel despite still being a fan, and I will address them. Any future anon hate will result in me immediately turning off anon, or the inbox itself: that is a PRIVILEGE, NOT A RIGHT.

also this might be messy and all over the place, but bare with me :) The writing portion is in more so personal portrayal rather than the redesign, so heads up!

Without further adieu, let's get into it! :D

1) Personal Portrayal:

For the longest time, I've pictured Al as the "laughing on the outside, crying on the inside" type guy. This was in the glory days of the pilot. I remember the winters where I would read fanfic and draw fanart of any potential Alastor angst. Along with this, I would slowly have him go through character development. The Hazbin pilot was a complete eye opener for creativity, and a break for me. Of course the deer overlord caught my eye, and he led me to where I am today.

To me, he is complex: not revealing motives at first, but slowly guiding us into false hope, then a betrayal. Possible redemption, but he wouldn't be a goody two-shoes after it. He'd still be a dick, he'd still make mistakes, but he's slightly softer than before. Considerate might be a stretch, but it's a start that he is working on...albeit begrudgingly. He grows to love the Hazbins, then after a while supports the hotel.

Him and Husk are more rivals/buddies than what the show portrays. Yes they bicker, but it's lighthearted instead of harmful. There would be moments where hurtful things were said/done, but after reconciliation and consequences of actions, things would get better. Yet with Husk, Alastor is soft: platonically, as I still interpret him as aro-ace. Even during shitty days//arguments, there would still be a time where they could have a drink together, play poker/whatever card game, laugh their asses off, and enjoy the company.

Nifty and Alastor would be a father/daughter duo. He took her under his wing after a mishap, and she's been loyal to him since. He cares for her and is the only one out of two he allows himself to be soft with at first. (The second would be Husk). She cleans up after Alastor's mess when need be, and it never goes unappreciated. He helps her clean some days, and it could serve as a bonding moment. Jazz music in the background, cracking jokes, and things just feeling homey.

Alastor would break the smile when comfortable: it takes a while as someone who would mask emotions, but when he occurs, he feels lighter afterwards. Crying is another story: that'll take a longer time for him to overcome. He bottles it up until it unleashes at the wrong person. After some talking it out with Charlie, he finally lets go. This all happens very slowly, not in the same episode.

He's still a cannibalistic serial killer: he will have to own up to his sins. There's no glorifying them or babying him, he's a grown ass man that needs to own up for his actions. When he does, he probably won't be redeemed for a long while. That's okay though: he needs the development.

Also haha my sona is adopted by Alastor haha /hj (but seriously, he has become one of the closest comfort characters mainly due to my own portrayal. It's fiction after all! Everyone interprets things differently!) Now, moving onto the next topic.

2) The Pilot's Alastor:

My opinion: the pilot is better than the show. Sure I still like the show, but the pilot has more charm to it, y'know?

Ed Bosco's voice for Alastor in the pilot was perfect. It was devious, menacing, dare I even say intimidating. It accommodated the radio effect well, cutting in and out. It had a drawl, yet somewhat of a light tone in certain words. He felt like a radio host that happened to be a serial killer. The laugh. The smugness. It was just amazing. We didn't know anything about him, aside from the story Vaggie told. His motive was unknown (and still kinda is). But it showed us, not told us. It was solid and quite frankly, well done.

Black Gryph0n's singing voice for him was phenomenal! It was and still is one of my favorite voices of all time. It screamed 1920s and 30s. It was witty, smooth, yet eccentric and almost booming. Insane, Inside of Every Demon Is A Lost Cause, Heaven 2 Hell, Thank You and Goodnight: those were songs I had looped for months, even years. Inside Of Every Demon Is A Lost Cause was my alarm for a whole year, then Insane.

Design wise: too red. I still love him, but he's too red. The darker shades of brown/maroon on his lapel and tie were helpful though. Somewhat. Still, he blends into the setting of Hell itself: it's not as intense in the pilot, if I can remember correctly: it was still too much, but it wasn't an eye sore to me. Continuing, I never understood the hair (and it was a struggle to draw the first time around) but I liked the ears. It was overall a cute factor to a menacing character.

We knew from streams and old pieces of work that Alastor was a momma's boy, he's mixe Creole, he's aro-ace (while asexual in canon, I still see him as aro-ace), he has a dislike for dogs, the list goes on. In the pilot days, those were the only notes of info we had, and the fans made our own spin out of it. It was a fun time, reading fanfics during the winter while it snowed. I had popcorn and my iPad out to draw, and I was simply just...enjoying the content.

Moving onto the actual, set-in-stone Alastor.

3) The Show's Alastor:

Amir Talai's voice, while pleasant, is just...lacking something. I commend his work and still think he's awesome at what he does, don't get me wrong! But the way Alastor is presented just lacks what Pilot!Alastor had. While Pilot!Alastor was mysterious and menacing voice-wise, Show!Alastor feels more mischievous and playful, more than anything. An anti-hero instead of an opposing force, per say. It's not that I have a problem with it: it just doesn't fit with what his character is supposed to be. A deeper voice does him justice.

The design, although barely changing, is still too red. Nothing against it, but I have a slight gripe with the white border of the lapel. It feels out of place, plus a frustration to remember when I'm drawing. Same thing with the monocle, but the monocle is bearable.

Alastor's writing in the show is.....I dunno how to put it. Don't get me wrong: I loved when he has screentime! It would've been completely fine...but he's supposed to be mysterious. He was too open, too pushy, and it felt like it was shoved in our faces constantly. "hAhA lOoK aT tHiS sCaWy OvErLoRd OvEr HeRe DoN't YoU sEe HiM hAhA lOoK sEe?" to put it as nicely as possible. It just feels like his potential was butchered.

Him having a feud with Vox? Still clever! Video killed the radio star after all! While Stayed Gone is one of, if not my favorite Hazbin song, it could've had more potential. More banter, more singing than "rapping"/talking (I'm not quite sure if him and Alastor's talking was rapping, but eh, who knows).

His and Lucifer's beef is entertaining but unnecessary. What was the reason? Just for shits and giggles? It might have been, but it could've been done better in a filler episode. The way the banter was and how Lucifer didn't kick Alastor's ass, despite being the literal King of Hell AND the Devil, he didn't do shit. Lucifer could've smited him in an instant, yet he didn't. Because he's a soft uwu baby. /s Though we're talking about Alastor, not Luci.

Adding on, when the scene of him and Husk came to light, I was left conflicted. We're supposed to fear him, yeah? Well, why have him around 24/7? He should be lurking in the shadows, barely participating in hotel activities yet he is always in the background just watching. This would add the mystery factor. It would make the viewers go "wait, where's Alastor?" and have them guessing. With him being shoved in our faces, it feels useless. (deadass that scene where he tortured Husk made me feel a lot of hate towards Alastor. Genuinely: I was not happy. I don't fuck with that scene).

His full demon form in Episode Five is not great. I'm sorry. I preferred the form to be similar to Episode Two, where Vox pissed him off so much. With his [Alastor's] demon form, it should be slowly morphing. Also...maybe no voodoo? Because the show hasn't done actual research into voodoo. I have a book from New Orleans about the subject, and it's so fascinating.

Now: time for more of my creative side (kinda).

4) Redesigns/Overall Ideas:

I'm probably going to get some hate here, but eh. It don't bother me, I'm just a gal providing my own thoughts. ANYWAYS with my redesign/rewrite, it's gonna be a mixture of notes and paragraphs, so please bare with me.

I. Episode Two/Stayed Gone:

The song (as much as it's one of my favs) could've been wiped out completely and we could've had shenanigans with the two! Bickering, bantering, even fighting in the streets: causing Alastor to lose his cool and transform into the demon form he had at the end of the song. Perhaps Sir Pentious was a secret aid all along, tag teaming with Vox to try and take down Alastor. Charlie intervenes, Alastor is humiliated with himself, and there could be a bonding moment between them. Scolding and glaring from Vaggie, but bonding nonetheless.

I don't have many critiques for Episode Two, so let's slide into the next one.

II. Episode Five: Dad Beat Dad:

Yikes....okay. This episode isn't my favorite, but it's somewhat still enjoyable. The Lucifer/Alastor thing though? Entertaining but useless. Also still annoyed Lucifer didn't smite Alastor's ballsy ass. The gall you have to have: then again, it was to get a rise out of Lucifer. HOWEVER: Lucifer is the literal Devil, and we could've seen his potential.

Subtle glares and comments could've been arranged in Episode Five, yet Alastor has to be courteous. It's the King of Hell, the literal Devil. While it's okay for a character to be ballsy, there has to be limits...unless the aim is for the overly smug character to get their shit rocked: in that case hell yeah!

Then, something happens to the hotel: a greater threat, possibly because of Mimzy still, but they could work together to stop it. They still hate each other, but there's still enough respect to not kill the other.

III. Design Changes (Redesigns)

Give this man curly hair, first of all. While I'm not a POC myself, I have scene human!Alastor fanart, or even some canon design Alastor fanart where they made his hair curly! I would like to see more of it, so with my personal redesign, he has curly hair. I don't have my iPad on me (alive) right now, but once I sketch out the possible redesign, I'll share it!

There's also sometimes, with redesigns of Alastor, green added into the color palette. I personally love it, but with the red I don't want him to turn out Christmas-y lmao

I feel like black pants paired with white and black 1920s/30s tap shoes could cause the red to pop out. Maybe no red tuxedo coat.

^ BUT if there was a cold winter option, a red and maroon winter coat (ironically could be made out of deer pelt/skin) could do. The color scheme would be 2019 Alastor color palette.

His ears...OUGH. I would draw out the deer ears on the side of the head, and have the curly hair. Maybe hair tufts in the ears? Optional, but again, when everything is drawn out, it'll make more sense.

I do love the cunty red eyelids and the eyelashes. Keep those. Yesyesyes.

The antlers can stay black, but I'm just more worried about them blending with the hair or not. Design reasonings and such. Also maybe different shaping? Make them look bigger, more intimidating.

OH. MY GOD. Give him radio dial eyes 24/7 instead, but in that genuine look of fear/desperation/vulnerability, the normal eyes can pop out. That's just optional though.

5) Conclusion:

That's all I really have for Alastor. As much as I love him, he's flawed. This is a post that took me a few months to complete, I had it cooking up in here but life got in the way. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do not harass me. But I hope you enjoyed my rambles!! <3

[poshpunkqueen]

I've been listening to Taylor Swift since the debut. I'm not one of those listeners that believe Taylor is a Princess, wholly innocent, 24/7 victim but at the same time I don't believe she's a Villain. She's made mistakes.

I'm not one of those listeners that has the time and immoral capacity to sit on the Internet to committ Cyber crimes nor am I willing to put my health on the line to see her live. There should be boundaries.

The transfer from Teenhood to Adulthood for Taylor...I could tell ..she's still unravelling. Its okay to be in your 30s and still finding yourself. Hopefully there is an expiry date.

I'm not trying to be funny but I believe Taylor needs therapy. There are some unresolved things: fame, dealing with the industry and the media has definitely affected her. I don't think she's quite shake off alot stuff. It's passivity with a cupcake appearance of happiness.

Her patterns and methodology when it comes to music....mmmh the adults are taking a step back and analysing 😄. Writing those songs and knowing the effects will eventually become a "Here we go again" Moment. Everyone will move on and she will remain.Therapy is needed.The pride comes before the fall.

I say this because when Tortured Poets Project was announced I was unsure about it. I've never been unsure about a Taylor album. But then again I'm aware of the Taylor Formula. Not sure if she can carry this formula into her 40s and 50s 😄 but we will see. But I listen for listening sake..I'm listening to everyone this year.

TTPD Album: I had to stop half way because its the typical Taylor album...same note 🙆🏻‍♂️ same storyline... lol no doubt she's a good songwriter. Not sure how to feel about missiles being sent to someone who struggled or struggling with Depression. NOPE.

Emotional cheating is interesting lol We had this before 👀. Alcoholism and the talks about drugs is interesting too. Blurring the lines between two men. One you barely bedded to be in this deep. This seems like a tactic for writing material. Calculated PR stunts. I said this last year...she knows what she's doing...she dated him purposely ...she knew what to expect and Matty knew what to expect ...I'm disappointed in Matty selling out ...and acting out for attention..he needs to grow up too....he knows better. He made the whole band look bad...(I'm George fan btw)

Meathead guys years ago like Travis Kelce were saying they wanted to date Taylor for fame and songs. Sadly I'm starting to see it. Travis is a big time user. However we live and learn 😆

Idk I don't get it. If people pay attention to her lyrics not just on this album but previous albums, she tells on herself alot lol. We will have this again 2026.

Being Human isn't without flaws and wrong paths but it seems people only see it with Taylor Swift. .they don't see it with others 🫡 Others would would be stamped with cancellation. The Devil.

Taylor is in her 30s and I hope she figures out what she wants personally and professionally. It doesn't make sense moving from person to person then writing these songs. This is why therapy is important.

A few weeks ago, we heard Beyoncé album and I'm not the biggest Bey fan but we heard her different layers vocally and with the blending of genres. While I'm aware Taylor isn't a vocalist...I want to hear her do other genres.

Honestly I liked Midnights and reputation better.

Here are the songs I might listen to again:

✨️ Fortnight

✨️TTPD

✨️Down Bad

✨️So Long London

✨️The Prophecy

✨️Robin

⛔️Florida...but it's meh...Florence was downplayed...similar to Snow on the Beach with Lana.

The other songs were...okay....

I support Joe. I don't think Joe deserves this...I'm not gonna defend wrong actions even if I like your songs...

TBH EVENTUALLY I WILL STOP LISTENING TO TAYLOR BECAUSE I'VE GONE BACK DEEP INTO ROCK AND OLD SKOOL MUSIC

[stormysunday9]

One thing I always wished was that my life had a soundtrack. You can feel things so much deeper with music. My life doesn't have a soundtrack, but I thought my writing could. So here's a few songs to pair with the story if you want to feel it a little more. ❤️

This one is full of angst, no 18+ stuff save for some language.

TW: emotional abuse, injured JB9

P.s. I have no idea how to format on this app so if I'm doing it all wrong please feel free to make fun of me and/or teach me.

One More Chance

I was at the game when Joe was brutally sacked and the defender fell on top of him, crushing his wrist. I ran from the stands to meet him at the medical facility next to the Bengals locker room. Joe seemed too relaxed about it all when told me he "heard a pop." He was clearly still very much in shock. An x-ray and an ultrasound confirmed he had snapped a ligament in his wrist, and as a result, his grip strength was almost nothing. The medical trainer wrapped his wrist and he went back out to the sidelines. I went out to the players parking lot and waited for the game to end. I sat in Joe's car and began to panic. When the shock wore off, this was going to get ugly. He was still riding adrenaline, watching his boys finish the game. I was going to have to deal with the natural disaster that was injured Joe when we got home and he came down from it all.

An hour later, he gently knocked on the passenger window, scaring me out of my mental nightmare. 

"You're gonna have to drive, babe."

Fair enough, I realized. Stick shift wasn't very easy with one hand. I got out of the car and walked around the to driver side. Joe plopped into the passenger side.

"What did they say?" I asked cautiously, still not able to figure out his mood.

"Surgery in a week," he began, "then two weeks rest before I can start physio. Full recovery by six months. Fucking sucks!" He sort of chuckled. 

I felt like I was waiting for the air raid siren to sound. I knew the storm was nearby, but couldn't figure out which direction it was going to come from. We made it home without issue and Joe spent the rest of the evening fielding phone calls and media requests. 

Maybe it'll be ok, I allowed myself to feel a tiny bit hopeful. He's older now, he's seen more success, become more mature since his last injury. And after all, getting hurt is just part of football, right?

Wrong. Not for Joe Burrow, who's entire self worth was rooted in his success as a football player. The storm hit the next day. He was miserable, aggressive, and angry at the world. He spent the week getting drunk and sleeping. All his health obsessions went out the window. His friends would drop him off late at night when he'd been cut off at whatever bar they were at, and I'd have to get him to bed safely while he either made me feel completely useless or tried to drunkenly seduce me, depending on his mood.

I laid low for the days leading up to his surgery and spent most of my time cleaning up after him and his week long bender. I hoped for a light at the end of the tunnel, once he was "fixed" and on the road to recovery.

-----------------

I picked Joe up from the hospital when he had been discharged after his surgery. I pulled his Porsche around to the entrance and watched him lumber out the door, his right arm in a sling that was supporting his heavily wrapped wrist. His face was full of storm clouds.

I got out to grab his bag from him and threw it into the very limited cargo space. He slumped into the passenger seat, completely filling the previously empty seat beside me. 

"You look good," I offered, "how are you feeling?" 

"Fine." He answered without looking at me. I put the car in gear and drove. He stared straight ahead the whole drive home. It seemed safer in the moment to just let him be. He has obviously been thrust back into reality, no longer self medicating with alcoholic. Time to face reality. I was sure he was assessing what the next six months were going to look like, and I was pretty certain he wasn't happy with what he was seeing. 

When we arrived home, he was combative. Wouldn't let me do anything for him, didn't want to talk. It was just like his knee injury all over again, and we'd barely survived that. I didn't know if I could do this again. It hurt so much seeing him like this, but i wanted to support him. Instead he made me feel like I was somehow responsible. Like everyone was out to get him. 

His voice broke through my thoughts, right as I was feeling my throat get tight trying to fight off tears. "I'm going to shower." He turned on his heel, still refusing to make eye contact.

"Joe -", he stopped, his back still to me, "I might go spend the next couple nights at my mom's. If you don't want me here...." I left space after the statement for him to counter. To tell me he needed me here, he wanted me. Instead, facing his back, I saw him give a quick nod of his head, and continue up the stairs. I wish I could have seen the look on his face as he broke my heart, but he wouldn't even give me that.

I followed upstairs shortly after and  began throwing a few items in an overnight bag. Why won't he fight for me? For us? In the midst of feeling sorry for myself, I heard a loud crash from the bathroom. I ran down the hall, worried he had slipped. I opened the bathroom door to see him standing in our large walk in shower with a water proof sleeve over his right arm, water spraying down his broad back, and shampoo and body wash bottles scattered at his feet that he had evidently just cleared off the shelves in a fit of rage. 

"Joe..."

"I can't even wash my own fucking hair!", he yelled, his voice thick with emotion.

Deep breath. "May I come in?" I asked, treading as lightly as possible.

He responded by pushing the shower door open, and kicking the bottles he'd just thrown out of my way.

I pulled my shirt over my head and shimmied my track pants and panties to the floor and stepped into the steamy shower.

"Sit down," I commanded.

He obeyed, sitting cross legged on the shower floor, his head hung down in front of him.

I pulled the shower head from it's cradle, and kneeled down behind him. I put a finger under his chin, asking him to tip his head back. He did as instructed. I let the gentle stream run off his head, running my hands through his thick, wavy hair as I went. I picked up one of the strewn shampoo bottles and squeezed some into my hand. I began to massage it into his scalp gently, being careful to wipe it back from his hairline so it didn't get in his eyes.

I suddenly noticed his whole body was heaving in front of me. He was silently sobbing. 

"Oh my love....",  I wrapped my arms around his neck, he reached up with his left arm to hold onto mine. 

"Please don't leave," he barely whispered, his voice breaking.

I sat back on my feet. "I don't want to, Joe. I want to be here, I want to help you, I want to be with you. But it doesn't feel like you want me here. I want to give you your space. If that's what you want."

He made a clumsy effort to spin around to face me. "It's not. I don't want to go through this without you." 

His eyes were so pained, his whole body seemed fatigued. I began to gently rinse the shampoo from his hair while he stared into my eyes. "I'm so sorry...Stay," he pleaded.

I took a minute to focus on the hot water cascading down my back. I stood up, and reached out my hand to help him up. Now standing, he towered over me, but his presence didn't feel like it took up the same amount of space as it once did. His whole aura felt smaller, after hit after hit to his body, his ego and his pride. 

"Ok," I finally agreed, grasping his left hand in both of my hands, "but you have to let me in."

He offered a curt nod of his head. I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel from the warmer. Joe stepped out after me, and I reached up to help him dry his hair, the stretch causing my naked breasts to press again his chiselled chest. He wrapped his left arm around my waist and bent down to make his height more accessible. With his mouth now next to my ear I felt his warm breath against my cheek as he whispered, "you're so beautiful."

I offered him a soft smile. I knew how difficult it would be for him right now to offer any sort of kindness or compliment, knowing his head was just churning with dark thoughts.

He took a step back and actually looked at me, for what felt like the first time. His cold blue eyes felt like they were burning a hole through my body. "I just want to feel worthy of you," he confessed. 'i can't even take care of myself, how can I take care of you?"

"You don't always have to take care of everyone," I told him, "right now, please just let me take care of you." I continued to help pat him dry. Then removed the waterproof sleeve from his right arm

"How is it feeling?", I asked.

"Hurts," he replied. 

"Why don't you go lay down. Rest is the best medicine right now. I'll grab you your pain meds." I offered.

"I don't want them, I shouldn't need them! Professional athletes using narcotic pain control never ends well." He protested.

I clenched my jaw, trying to stay calm. "Fine, I'll grab you a couple Tylenol."

I ran downstairs to grab the Tylenol from the kitchen while Joe sulked towards the bedroom. I knew I needed to stay patient, but my patience was already so thin. I was so mentally exhausted. Every time I thought I'd broken down a wall he'd built, I just found another one behind it. 

When I returned to the bedroom, he was already in bed and I could tell by his hooded eyes that sleep was creeping over him. I handed him the pills, and some water, and bent to kiss him on his cheek.

"Lay with me a for a bit...? He slurred trough his fatigue.

"Ok," I quietly agreed.

I climbed in bed next to him on his side and curled my body against his broad back. I draped my arm over him and he reached up with his left hand to link his pinky finger with mine. "I love you," he breathed out.

"I know..." I whispered.

His breathing slowed and became deeper. I could tell he was asleep. Looking at this perfect man, momentarily at peace, I could see the man I fell in love with two years ago. I couldn't even make sense that this man, and the volatile person who was yelling and throwing things minutes ago were one in the same. The constant mood swings were giving me whiplash. 

I knew I was at a breaking point. I couldn't do it much longer. I wanted nothing more than to be there for him, to love him, even at his worst. But I also knew that i couldn't be his punching bag any longer. It was up to him from here on out. He needed to decide what this was going to look like, whether he could get through this without burning down everything around him. At this point, I knew I'd done everything I could. 

I slowly wiggled my hand out of his and quietly slipped out of the bed. I went downstairs to lay on the couch, where my unexpected wave of tears wouldn't wake him.

----------

When Joe came home after his first day of physio, after a week of me walking on eggshells and the two of us barely speaking, I decided to try one more time.

He looked like he was already on his way to sequester himself back in his office with his music and computer when I tried to interject.

"Hang out with me, babe. We can watch a movie, or play Scrabble. I know how hard this has been for you, so let's just do something easy."

His face immediately filled with fury. "You have no fucking idea how hard this is for me!", he spit out, "you have no fucking clue what it's like to have the only thing you care about get ripped away from you!"

And there it was. It would have hurt less if he had just slapped me across the face. His words burned into my heart. Tears sprang into my eyes.

"Actually, Joe, I do know exactly what that feels like. Because the thing I care about most in this world - YOU - got ripped away from me the moment your wrist snapped, and got replaced by a monster who's made it his life's mission to make me feel like absolute trash, despite sacrificing every bit of everything I have to be there for you and get you through this!!!!" My voice was angry, but my tears betrayed me. My heart was broken, and my decision was made. I couldn't be here anymore. And I told him so.

"I can't keep doing this. I love you so much, but it's not enough. I need some time, to just be me. And maybe you can figure out who you are, who Joe Burrow is now, and whether that person has any room in his life for me anymore."

I grabbed my keys and my purse. "I'll come back tomorrow while you're at physio to get my stuff."

I saw his face drop at the realization that I was really leaving. I couldn't let it effect me, my resolve was set. I walked out the door, got in my truck, and drove away. I didn't make it halfway to my parents house before I had to pull over because I couldn't see the road through my hysterical sobs. 

------------------

The first couple weeks with my parents were rejuvenating. I finally felt like I could breathe. I missed Joe terribly, but what was happening back home was not healthy for either us. I hadn't told my parents much, just that Joe needed to focus on healing and needed some space to do so. I didn't give them all the nitty gritty details because I didn't want them to hate him. I dove headfirst back into work, spent time with friends, and a lot of time reflecting on what I needed to be happy going forward. 

Three weeks after our last explosive break down, Joe texted me:

Hey you.

Hi you. How are you doing?

Getting better every day. I wanted you to know that I started therapy.

I know! How's the grip strength?

Oh, good. But I didn't mean physio. Therapy for my mind. It's been helping a lot. Helping me understand there has to be a me that exists outside of football. And that one day football will be done for me, so I need to put energy into the things I still want to have around me when that day comes.

And I know the only thing I want is you. 

Wow, that was easily the longest text joe had ever sent me. By his standards, that was a novel. And therapy was so huge for him. He'd never taken that idea seriously before. I took a minute to get my words right before I responded.

I think that's really amazing, Joe. I'm proud of you, and you should be proud of yourself.

I know saying it and putting it into action are two very different things, which is why I would like the chance to show you that I can be better. I didn't know my mental health needed healing as much as my physical health....

There was a long pause between messages, I was trying to take it all in and really didn't know how to respond, my head was spinning. And then I saw him begin to type again.

Can I see you?

I breathed out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. Part of me wanted to respond yes with a hundred exclamation marks because I missed him so much. And part of me was still so guarded, so protective of my own mental state, that the thought of seeing him terrified me. I loved him so much, and really seemed to have been making an effort in our time apart....

...one more chance, I promised myself.

Ok, I texted back, you can come here. My parents are out of town so you won't have to worry about an interrogation. Bring coffee.

Be there in 20 🫡

When I opened the door, Joe looked different. He seemed relaxed, but cautious. The tension that had permanently taken up residence in his jawline had disappeared. He held the tray of drinks in his good hand, his injured hand still in a brace but no longer in a sling.

"Hi", he smiled with that damn smile that could melt icebergs, or in this case, my cold hardened heart.

I ushered him in with a sweeping motion of my arm. He sat down on my parents couch and set the drinks on the coffee table in front of it. 

"How are you?", he asked as genuinely as he ever had.

"Hanging in there," I replied.

He gave me a pained look and decided to just get right to the point.

"I'm so sorry, babe. There is no excuse for the way I treated you. And I know any apology is insufficient. The only thing I can do is be better for you. Be the person you deserve. And I don't know if I can ever be that person, because you deserve the world, and more. But I want to try. I want to be everything you need, I want to be the person who makes your life better, happier. I never want to hurt you again. I know now that football is right now, but you are forever. And I want you forever. So I want to put just as much effort - more even - into you, into us, as I do into my career. I want to be good at football, but I want to be great at loving you."

I could feel the tears threatening to spill out of eyes. I tried to control my breathing. 

Joe reached out and gently grabbed my hand, "hey," he offered, trying to get me to meet his eyes, "I'm just so damn sorry. I was a complete jackass, and you deserve so much better."

I finally met his eyes and the tears I was trying so hard to hold back slid down my cheeks. "God dammit, Burrow," I half laughed, half cried.

He cocked his head to the side, pleading and hopeful.

There was nothing I wanted more than to be us again. But the us we started out as, the us before the injuries and the losses. I knew that Joe was still in there, and I could see how desperately he was trying to bring him to the forefront and to be him again, and only him. 

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. I needed to get my voice under control before I spoke again. I reached over to take a drink of my coffee. I finally decided to tell him the same words I had told myself earlier. 

"One more chance, Joe."

I watched the corners of his lips start to turn up, before I continued.

"I swear to you though, I won't go through that again. If you get hurt again, and I think we can both admit that's a pretty good possibility, we will get through it together or not at all. And if you treat me like shit again, you won't see me again. I'm not kidding, Joe. You broke my heart."

He imperceptibly winced at the sting of my words, and wiped the grin off his face immediately. 

"I broke my own heart too, the minute I let you walk away," he confided. "I promise to spend every minute proving to you that it will never happen again". 

He scooted closer to me, and wrapped an arm around me, my head fell into his chest, where I had always fit so perfectly. He took this as an invitation to wrap the other arm around me and squeeze me like he was never going to let me go.

We stayed like that for a minute while I buried myself in his warmth, his smell, his strength. When I finally came up for air I looked into his eyes, they looked so vulnerable.

"You better not mess this up, Burrow." I tried to sound stern.

He smiled. "I wouldn't dare." He offered me the pinky finger of his left hand, and after a moment's hesitation, I linked it with mine. Then he pulled me in and kissed me, and just like that, I was ready to risk it all, all over again. 

[waitmyturtles]

I THOUGHT THESE WOULD BE COMPLICATED SPOILERS FOR EP. 3 OF OS2 x BBS x ATOTS, BUT I LOVED IT

I loved this episode. I want to give this episode a HUGE HUG. Going against the stream, I know!

Did we get finger-lickin’ good? Not yet. But I don’t believe we’re done with the BBS guys, with the play, with Nong Nao, not yet. We see Tian’s gonna come to the city, and Phupha’s wearing a suit for episode 4. We have more to come. 

Let me just set up my mindset for a second. I watched episode 5 of He’s Coming To Me last night. I have, on the mind, complicated mindsets. I have Aof’s magic and mystery on my mind. (He started those punk previews WAY EARLY, I realize.) I have Thun in my head figuring himself out, discovering himself, not having the words yet to describe and know what’s happening to him as he emotes on the rooftop.

I have Moonlight Chicken on the mind. I have Jim building a community around him of people that NEED community. Not just Wen, but Gaipa and Alan, and Saleng, too. I have on the mind that Li Ming needs familial support to feel strong and to find himself, and Jim has to get there -- through his internalized homophobia, in part -- to GIVE that as Li Ming’s uncle.

What I saw in this OS2 x BBS x ATOTS episode 3 is all four of these guys finding community with each other. To finally, FINALLY have other men in SIMILAR situations, in complicated relationships, in complicated communicative structures, finding themselves and each other, finding their partnerships, realizing their partnerships are TANGIBLE and ALIVE and GROWING, and beating like heartbeats, ones that need nurturing.

And these guys have been all about themselves for so long -- especially Tian and Phupha -- they’ve been self-focused for so long -- like Pran’s life as an only child, not knowing really how to relate to others, as he stated to Tian himself -- that coming TOGETHER to build relationships with PARTNERS can be COMPLICATED and EXHAUSTING.

I am not frustrated in the least by what we got from Pat and Pran, and I know we see them tomorrow. I see Pran dealing with something really complicated. We know he’s still going to Singapore. We see Pat giving Pran the deepest admission, and Pran admitting it, too. But they’re still SO. YOUNG. And Pran knows this. Pran knows he’s been insecure in his past. I think Pran is balancing and struggling a VERY REAL ADULT recognition that he could just fall INTO a relationship with Pat FOREVER, WITHOUT needing to WORK on himself as an independent adult. 

THAT’S NOT PRAN. Not at all. He’s a feisty motherfucker who’s learned to survive on his own, to keep his secrets and his shit close to his chest.

I think Pran TAKES INSPIRATION from Tian’s journey, solo, to Pha Pun Dao. I think that’s, in part, moving Pran to consider how Pran HIMSELF will take a journey FOR HIMSELF to discover himself. And he sees how it’s paid off (or not?) for Tian.

I think Pran also GETS SO MUCH VALUE from the conversation with Phupha. To recognize that.... there must be a RECOGNIZED AND ACKNOWLEDGED BALANCE between partners to figure out the give-and-take in a relationship, because if that shit gets UNBALANCED, AS PAT AND PRAN see in Tian and Phupha, then things can go haywire.

If I may go here...if Tian/Phupha are Jim/Wen, and Pat/Pran are Heart/Li Ming... then the youngsters are seeing how the bigger adults are growing and interacting -- and maybe taking inspiration from that.

I didn’t know that I needed to see Pat roll with Phupha and Tian separately. I didn’t know that I needed to see Pran do the same. And I didn’t know that I needed to see Phupha and Tian do the same with Pat and Pran.

These guys found each other and found community. Within community -- because that’s. what. Aof. does. compassionately. for. his. characters. -- one can find oneself. One WILL NOT find oneself in a vacuum. 

Au was still in this episode. Aof has given Jojo free reign to do whatnot at GMMTV. Aof supports Golf and directs First and Khao in their music videos. Aof himself is a community-builder, and he will DO THAT for his characters, too. 

In the offline conversation with the friends @shortpplfedup, @lurkingshan, @wen-kexing-apologist, @ginnymoonbeam, and @bengiyo, a FANTASTIC point was made about these two couples BOTH being in a kind of glass closet (gorgeous point, Nini). Each couple is finding their way, either out, out-ish, with their families from these closets, or really -- especially for Pran and Phupha -- with themselves. 

This episode was compassion 101. Fuck, man. Fuck. I thought it would be more clowning fun, but of course not. I thought this episode was BEAUTIFUL. I thought this episode was DELICATELY REPRESENTATIVE of the struggles of committed relationships, and what earthquakes and shocks can set relationships off-course. 

We needed these deep conversations to move forward to have more fun. But we know that Pat and Pran still have huge hurdles to leap. Maybe they’ll learn from Phupha and Tian on how to manage those hurdles when these series close tomorrow. 

[alexanderflowerbird]

DAY 18

So, I took today off because this weekend was A LOT lol, had many emotions, highs and lows and manual labor, but I am glad to say that today rejuvenated me quite a lot. I spent much of it just relaxing, but I dedicated a few hours to another gas up call with one of the other creators in my writing group, and you know? I think this should be a fixture in writing groups. I know that this is the case in in person writing groups, that each week someone's work gets critiqued and talked about by the whole group, but in online groups it seems like a less common tradition to agree that a couple of us are gonna get together and just support and talk and analyze one person's work, allowing them to view their project from new angles, explore new opportunities and of course, feel supported and cared for while they create. I am looking forward to my gas up call one day hehe. I did get some writing done today, a whole 1612 words, and I was able to drop another scene into the Blood Sun Territory master doc. I'm looking forward to when I have utilized all the scenes I've written separately, and I suspect that I will still be writing scenes all by themselves as I go to get the broad gestures and phrases and moments out of my brain while they're at their brightest. Despite how many spoons I spent this weekend, I feel very good. Tired, but good. Loved and valued and supported and like I'm doing a good job of being loving and valuable and supportive in other people's lives too. Excerpt today is another Blood Sun Territory one for you, in which Malachi meets another nice lady [he seems to run into nice ladies everywhere he goes, this guy] and is reunited with his friend Esteban, who is Felina's brother.

Taglist: @theskeletonprior @thelittlestspider @tragedycoded @badscientist If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please interact with this post. Oh! I meant to ask as well, is it preferable that I cut off my journal entries with the excerpt after a 'keep reading' block? Or should I just let the whole post go exposed? I dunno, I guess I thought having it separated would be considerate to people's feeds, but I think it also makes it where no one but my tag list ever sees my work lol. Let me know what you think in the comments, like and subscribe lol

Malachi is relieved to discover that the bar is in its way, nostalgic. It’s not one of the places he and Esteban and their friends used to know, but it has the same air to it. He can smell the cigarette smoke from outside and within there’s metal music being played, muffled by the sounds of people talking and the sharp, unique clanking and thudding of pool balls. He slides into a booth to wait, and a waitress comes to him with a sweet, playful smile, and tiny jean shorts that cap off fishnetted legs that seem to go for miles. She’s got a Metallica shirt on that’s cut open on the sides and lips that are a perfect cupid’s bow of matte black. She’s very pretty, and she smiles more when Malachi’s face says so. 

“Get you anything?” She asks. 

“Not just now, thanks, I’m waiting for a friend.” Malachi answers, smiling a little at her. He feels almost shy for some reason. It’s been years and years without make up and fashion and the youthful self expression of women. He’d of course seen plenty of pin up art and tastefully nude double spreads being in prison with men who were predominantly heterosexual and ravenously longing for their lovers outside but there’s something different in being in person with a woman who’s carefully, meaningfully curated her look for the day. She’s decided on grunge and fishnets and dark makeup that makes her pale eyes pop, and it is enthralling. “Ah- actually.” He says just as she is about to leave him, and she turns, her dark hair swishing, catching up the neon red lights of glowing logos near his table. “Could you do me a favor?”

She leans her hip against the table after squinting at him. She must think he’s about to try some suave move on her and for whatever reason, she’s willing to let him swing and miss. He hates to disappoint her, she is beautiful. 

“Do you have a cigarette?” She chuckles at him.

“Sure, you know you can buy packs at the bar.” She points across the way. 

“Oh, that’s good to know. I’m honestly not sure if a pack is a good thing for me to have yet. Just one cigarette will be alright, just to see how I feel about it.” Malachi says, half joking. He smoked a little in prison, but cigarettes were like gold, and more often than not, smoking one was a communal effort rather than something savored alone. If he wasn’t passing a smoke around with at least three other men, he was being selfish, and he’d tried his best not to be selfish. The waitress sighs at him, but she reaches into her back pocket and produces a pack of cigarettes that is black, silver and green. She offers one over to him and he thanks her quietly, squinting at the cigarette because it’s different, not the classic, white on orange cowboy killer he’s known for so many years. 

“Pinch the filter if you like it menthol.” She instructs, demonstrating with her own cigarette. He’s willing to try it out, so he squeezes the filter and feels a soft pop under the pressure of his fingertips. She offers him her lighter and he looks at that too. Apparently, based on the starry sky and galaxy clouds on it, she’s a scorpio and proud enough of it to have her lighter announce it in swirling white letters and an astronomically accurate image of the constellation. He lights the cigarette and breathes in the smoke. It is heavenly, a little minty, he never bothered with menthols before prison but now he sees the appeal. He offers the waitress her lighter back. 

“Thanks…?” She smiles again, her perfect, pitch black lips dimpling her cheeks. 

“Veronica.” She offers and holds out her hand for him. He shakes her hand. “Malachi.” He introduces, even though he probably won’t ever see her again. If he were younger, if he hadn’t messed up his life, he might like it to be friends with her. He can’t make new friends in the city, he has no idea where he’s headed, but he’s polite anyway. 

“You just let me know if you need anything, alright, Malachi? I’ll be around. Your friend a girl?” She asks. 

“No, just an old friend.” He says with a shrug, taking another drag. 

“You like girls?” Malachi chokes a little and coughs. Veronica laughs at him. 

“Ah, no. Sorry.” He admits cautiously. “You’re very pretty though.” 

“I know I am.” Veronica confirms, unoffended and amused. “Just thought I’d check. You’re pretty too.” She must knock men who like women right off their feet with her confidence. He smiles at her compliment. 

“Thanks.” He says shyly. She pats his shoulder, squeezes it once, and wanders off to see to other tables. He tries to take his time with the cigarette, but once it’s gone, he only manages to resist the urge to get a pack for all of five minutes before getting up to go to the bar and request the same sort that Veronica had graciously introduced him to. He checks the time, the tvs in the bar playing a football game, the nightly news and some sort of game show Malachi is only momentarily interested in because game shows had been a highlight of entertainment when he’d been in prison. TV time was dedicated to old movies, documentaries and tv game shows. It’s 7:54PM, which means he can expect Esteban, if he’s still how he’s always been, to show up not at their agreed time of 8, but at perhaps 8:15, maybe even 8:20 if he’s had to go back into his house two times to get his wallet and his jacket. Malachi can’t help but smile to imagine it… it’s raining now outside, but Esteban was the sort of guy that would think he’s tough enough to just be out in the rain, getting drenched and being stoic about it, only to realize it’s cold and unpleasant and scurry back in for a coat and a hat. 

The time passes, and pleasantly, predictably, Esteban comes into the bar damp from the outside at 8:12, earlier than anticipated but still late. When he sees Malachi, he smiles and comes with a jaunt that Malachi recognizes, getting up and opening his arms as Esteban comes in close and pulls him into a firm, tight hug. 

“Wassup, man? Long time no see.” Esteban says, and then he laughs awkwardly– this is a habitual statement, Malachi knows, and it is funny so he laughs as well. Long time no see, no kidding. 

“Thanks for coming out to meet me, Esteban.” He says, patting his friend’s back before pulling back. 

“You look alright,” Esteban says, patting his arms. “Skinny.” He teases, and they both laugh again. “You eat? They got nachos here, man. Let’s get nachos, I got it. You don’t worry about it.” Esteban waves to Veronica and she smiles at him with a familiarity that tells Malachi that the old haunts have been replaced with this one and Esteban must be a regular here. 

“Nachos and Meisters?” Veronica asks and Esteban grins approvingly at her. 

“Nachos and Meisters, a pitcher, actually. Thanks Ronnie.” He says, sitting down in the booth. Malachi takes a seat again with a sigh and leans his elbows on the table. 

“So what’s new?” There’s likely a lot to cover, ten years between the last time they spoke and now. Esteban had stayed in touch for all of six months before he fell off, but Malachi won’t bring it up. He’s not here to give Esteban grief about his absence, they’re still friends and he needs his help. 

“Lots, man, lots. I opened another shop with Tissa, got a few of the boys trained up, ya know, Rosco and Earnie, they got ladies now and wanted somethin’ stable so I got them on, some new guys, well, new to you, ya know. Maritza says hello, also, she asked to come out to see ya but I told her it’s boys’ night. We got a place just outside the city, quieter and the kids go to a nice school. The traffic was shit comin’ out, and I walked out the house without my wallet, then Maritza said it was rainin’ so she got my jacket, ya know, dragging ass out of the house always.” He laughs, shaking his head. Veronica brings them beer glasses and a pitcher and he takes a moment to pour for both of them and have a sip of his. Malachi takes a sip too, carefully because after so long without alcohol and nothing but half an orange in his stomach, a single beer might put him on his ass. 

“Sounds nice. Still two girls?” Malachi asks and based on how Esteban beams at him, he suspects the number has grown before Esteban confirms it. 

“Three. Maritza had Calliope last year, she’s eight months now, smilin’ and laughin’ and sayin’ dada. It’s just as fun as the last two times, but I tell ya, I got baby crazy for a minute there and told Mari maybe we do four? She punched me in the chest and got her tubes tied. It’s fair, it’s fair, three’s plenty.” Esteban says with a chuckle, shaking his head. 

“Yeah, three’s great,” Malachi agrees. “Sonia is… eight now?” He asks. 

“Nine, birthday just a few weeks ago. She’s huge man, and she likes cars! Always wants to be in the shop with me, she’s gettin’ an attitude on her, always pissed she’s gotta go to school to learn math and shit when she could be gettin’ her hands dirty fixing carburetors with daddy.” Esteban says proudly. Malachi is so pleased to hear that, vicariously gratified by the idea that their daughters might both be into fixing vehicles. Felina knew enough after watching him, never one to leave something to a man just because. Mercedes is old enough to learn now, so maybe she’s out there somewhere changing Felina’s oil for her. 

“Speaking of daughters,” He begins, stopping only because Veronica comes with a frankly enormous plate of nachos, loaded up with so much stuff the chips are barely visible underneath. Esteban hands over his card, and then looks to Malachi with a tense sheepishness. He knows what’s coming. “I want to go see Felina and Mercedes. Do you know where they’re at?” Esteban eyes the nachos like they might save him, and opts for a mouthful of beer instead to avoid the question for a few moments. 

“I do know where they are, sure, but ah…Chi, listen. Maybe you ought give it a few months of being on the outside before you go chasin’ ghosts.” 

“Ghosts?” Malachi says, immediately alarmed. Esteban holds up his hands, realizing what he’s implied. 

“They’re fine! They’re alive! Sorry, nah- I mean, it’s- fuck dude. Felina’s got her own thing goin’, maybe you should get your own thing goin’, live a new life!” He insists. Malachi sighs and rubs his hand down his face. 

“I can’t do that, man.” Malachi says softly. “I gotta see them, see my little girl, make right with Felina.” 

“And how you gonna do that, huh? It’s not my business exactly, I know that, but I know my sister, man. You broke her heart, maybe the best thing after fuckin’ it up is to let sleepin’ dogs lie.” 

“That’s cowardly.” Malachi says.

“Fuck you, cowardly.” Esteban huffs, “Depends from where you’re sitting don’t it? You think it’s cowardly to just let her be when she ain’t talked to you in a decade?”

“I think it’s wrong, because I did break her heart and I didn’t want to do that to her. I fucked up, I owe her an apology. I’m not trying to win her back, Esteban, I just don’t want what happened to be complete shit for the rest of our lives. Put water under the bridge, for real, you know? A few years from now when Mercedes is old enough to do what she wants, I don’t want her wondering why her mom and dad never talk even though I’m out. I…” Malachi hesitates, flexing his hands, clasping them together. “I miss my friend. I fucked up with my wife, but I miss my friend.” Esteban sighs at Malachi and takes a few moments to think, eating nachos to buy himself time. He gestures at the plate, and Malachi takes a chip too, precariously stacked with meat and cheese and tomatos and cilantro. He eats it, it’s so wonderful he smiles and Esteban laughs a little. 

“Good as fuck, huh.” Esteban says, breaking the tension. Malachi nods, smiling more. Esteban leans back into the booth and taps his fingers against the table. 

“I hear ya, alright? We were tight back then… it’s different now. But she don’t wanna see you.” 

“You know that? She told you that?” Malachi challenges. 

“She don’t gotta tell me that, man.” Esteban says, resigned. 

“Then you don’t know.” 

“Why would she want to fuckin’ see you? What makes you so sure, ah?” 

“She left me money.” 

“And?” Malachi blinks at this dismissal. 

“What do you mean, ‘and’?” Esteban rolls his eyes. 

“You’re the father of her kid, man. Felina’s always been soft under all the sharp teeth. Maybe she was just lookin’ out for you because it was good for her heart. Don’t mean she wants to see ya. She don’t wanna see you.” Malachi has another nacho and considers this. Maybe Esteban is right but… can his own heart bear it, to accept that answer without finding out for sure? 

“I’d rather go see her and have her tell me to my face she doesn’t want to see me.” He decides to say. 

“Man,” Esteban drawls, “You mean you wanna hear her say that and end up cryin’ like a baby on her doorstep? Be for real, man. You couldn’t handle that, you were more upset that she was breakin’ it off with you than you were when they put you in for ten years. You did your time, you really want some more pain?” 

“If she puts me through pain it’s not even half what I did to her.” Malachi says.

[ghastlybin]

Can I request an angsty DC 8th member fic. I just need to read more 8th member au's and I love angst

Word, thank you for the request!!! Your wish is my command <3 =)) By the way, anyone else reading this, PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS FIRST! I BEG YOU.

Pairing: Dreamcatcher + 8th member! GN reader.

Word count: 2k

Genre/contents: Dreamcatcher’s 8th member! AU, Angst, heavy topics.

TW: Depictions of depression and anxiety. Kinda heavyish on imposter syndrome, insecurites, not feeling good enough, etc. The Y/N struggles with mental health and imposter syndrome, for short.

Note: I think I suck at being happy but I did attempt a happy-ish ending but I also didn’t want to be like “hey, depression. Now y/n is cured!1!1” Because that’s not how it works, sadly. But I at least tried to imply baby steps to managing the readers mental health better in the future rather than hold it all in kinda? I hope? Also the dialogue at the end that isn’t spoken by the Y/N is up to your interpretation. Could be any member you feel would say it or even your bias. Up to you. Anyways, enough stalling, thank you again, ily, and I hope you enjoy despite the topics depicted. (I really don’t know how else to word that- I am so sorry but yk what I mean though I hope lmao) I ALSO DON’T MEAN TO OFFEND ANYONE if I do :(( I tried not to be offensive here.

Ignore the fact that I couldn’t find a gif lol goodnight/morning/afternoon it is currently 5am so I’m gonna dip but ily!!

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, the idol life.

You worked hard for years and finally got to debut as the eighth member of Dreamcatcher, putting music out that you’ve worked years to be able to put out.

But this? The self-doubt, the imposter syndrome, your insecurities that are constantly being picked out and called out by critics and antis.

You were always in a constant battle with your own mind, each word playing on repeat as you began to pick yourself apart and wishing you worked just a little bit harder to be as perfect as your fellow members.

Every day, every comeback, every waking moment, you worked harder and harder to fit in with the girls.

No matter what you did, you still felt less than others.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You were supposed to be happy, enthusiastic, and in love with music— And you were.

You were happy. Happy you got to debut. Happy you were in a group full of wonderful women who were by your side every step of the way.

You were enthusiastic. Enthusiastic about performing. Enthusiastic about always putting in the most effort you could manage.

Of course, you were in love with music. Making music, singing, performing, and even producing it.

With each comeback, you recieved so much love from fans, dreamcatcher, and even staff, treating everyone kindly and respectfully and hoping they didn’t face the same feelings you felt deep inside.

But even with so much support, you still felt alone.

The loneliness was as intense as a monster that wanted nothing more than to eat away at your soul day by day.

And you would’ve let it, the pain inside debilitating your will to stay strong day by day.

You would’ve allowed yourself to drown completely, had it not been for your members there to keep your head above water and your passion for making music— Which was very much still there and still stronger than any demon eating away at you.

-

Handong was the first to see through to your emotional pain. The existential dread of never being enough.

You were seated beside her at a restaurant during dinner with the girls after a successful show.

The shaking of your hands, your heart beating through your chest, each vein pulsating with each beat.

Did I mess up the show?

You remembered how your mind raced with questions that you know you’d never believe the answers to.

Did anyone cheer for me during my parts?

Handong could feel something was off about you. Maybe it was the way you smiled without any feeling behind it. Maybe you were shaking too much for it to just be post-performance adrenaline.

Whatever it was, she realized the pain you were in. How it wasn’t something you could slap a band-aid on and be done with.

She saw you cry that same night, the pent-up emotions you had kept hidden from your group.

You wanted to be like them. Perfect, cool, and an amazing performer. You wanted them to think you were perfect, cool, and just as amazing as they were.

Instead, you cried, wishing to wake up as the perfect idol.

You remembered how tight Handong held you, listening to your wordless cries for as long as you needed.

And it hurt more, with as much love and support you received, all it took was for one negative comment to twist your day upside down.

You hated the power that had over you. How it altered your mind for the worst.

And Handong held you tightly in her arms as you sobbed until you were numb and with no more tears left.

“How long has this been going on?”

Her voice was soothing to your ears. Words you never thought you’d hear.

Finally, you thought. Someone willing to listen.

And you told her everything. Every painful feeling and thought you had bottled inside of you for so long. You trust her, of course. And she trusts you, grateful that you felt safe enough to open up to her.

The wars you waged in your mind had come to a ceasefire, even if only temporarily.

-

Minji was the next of the girls to have noticed.

Only this time, you were on a walk together, enjoying the day off while the others had other plans.

It was at a time you felt the most at peace with yourself. You itched to practice and perfect your skills, but at the same time, it felt good to be able to unwind and not have to worry about anything eating you up.

Minji didn’t know certain questions caused you pain.

“What are your goals for this year?”

It was a simple question. Albeit, a question that took some thought, but was meant to be harmless. She was excited about the future of the group, being the leader.

But it gave you a nauseous chill that caused you to stop all movement, clenching your jaw in an attempt to stop the feeling from pouring out of you.

“What’s wrong?” Minji asked, shortly before you began to shake, becoming short of breath and lightheaded.

It wasn’t a spontaneous reaction that caused you to spiral. You did think about your answer.

I have to be perfect. I have to work harder. I can’t take a break or I will have to start all over again.

You were on your day off, alongside Minji.

I have to start all over again.

“Y/N? Talk to me, please. I want to help you.” Minji thought about her words, only then, did she realize the emotional pain you experienced that began to externalize physically.

I may never be good enough.

You yelped, holding your chest as your heart picked up at an unnatural speed.

I will never be good enough, will I?

You were hyperventilating, shaking violently, sweat collected on your palms, and the world around you spun out of control.

Am I dying?

Minji immediately cut the walk short and brought you to the dorms and out of the eye of the public.

At the dorm, after Minji consoled you out of your inconsolable state, you didn’t remember the walk back to the dorm. How Minji worried for you every step of the way, hoping— Praying that you wouldn’t hyperventilate yourself into passing out on the street.

Your eyes were red and puffy from crying, which you also had no recollection of. You were a swirling pit of your own negative thoughts.

-

Yoobin was the third to notice.

She noticed you had been more distant than usual the day after your most recent comeback. While the girls were celebrating and well prepared for the promotion period, you had distanced yourself, picturing the ridiculing comments already, even as an endless sea of encouraging and adoring comments poured in, you could only seem to focus on the few negative ones.

Though the positive outweighed the negative, it was still enough to drown you and that was all it took.

“I’m fine.” A common excuse used by people bottling their feelings to avoid those around them from worrying.

Nothing is wrong with me.

I am perfectly fine.

I am perfect.

I am far from fine.

It was crazy how the weather seemed to align with your feelings.

Clouds burst into droplets to downpours of rain when they got too full.

Crazy how accurate it was to how you would bottle your feelings up so full that they would burst at the seams when it got too much.

You were surrounded by the bottled-up feelings that the sky held. Each cloud representing a different fear, insecurity— Anything that ate away at you bit by bit.

The cold rain drenched you the longer you sat outside, letting it wash over you just enough to simulate drowning, but never enough to actually drown you.

“Hey! You’re going to catch a cold out here!” Yoobin had run toward you with an umbrella, holding it over you, blocking any more drops from touching you.

The thing was, you were already cold. Even inside the heated building, the icy numbness blankets you.

“Are you okay?” Yoobin asked. You both shared the umbrella, the rain pouring down. Only then, did she realize you were crying.

“When will it stop?” The question came out in a mutter that Yoobin had barely heard.

“The rain?” She asked with a shrug.

Only later, did she understand what you truly meant.

-

When Siyeon noticed your pain, she walked past the bathroom door in the dorm, hearing the sounds of your crying.

It worried her and she wondered why you were crying.

It was just a bad day and you wanted to be alone rather than cry in your room where any of the girls could walk in at any given moment.

Siyeon knocked on the door, unaware you intended to be left alone. Even then, you were crying and she cared about you.

She’d have knocked anyway, even if it meant getting snapped at.

But you didn’t snap at her, only ceasing your tears as you sat on the floor of the bathroom, wiping your tears.

“Are you crying? Is there someone I need to beat up for you?” Siyeon asked, acknowledging that the door was locked, and instead sat beside the door to speak to you.

You cracked a smile, small, yet enough to slightly ease the pain in your chest.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

But you weren’t. You were far from fine.

Why do I feel like this?

A question that may never be answered no matter how many answers it all pointed to.

“You don’t sound fine. Tell me about it. Was it someone? Or something?” Siyeon didn’t want to overstep your boundaries, but she knew something was off.

It wasn’t every day that you burst into tears inside the dorm’s bathroom.

When you didn’t answer— Lacking the words to sum up your feelings, Siyeon’s voice seeped through the door again.

“I will be here when you’re ready. Whether your reason for crying is tiny or catastrophic, if it’s something that makes you cry, it’s never silly if it’s hurting you, so please don’t feel silly.”

Siyeon sat on the other side of the door as you covered your mouth, begging yourself not to cry anymore.

Within a few minutes, you gathered the courage to open the door and talk to Siyeon, who listened and tried her best to reassure you.

Even though you were grateful and felt a lot better in the end, you still had a massive lump in your throat that would take a while to overcome.

You just worried that it would take an eternity.

-

It was one in the morning when Yoohyeon found you wide awake, yet exhausted at the same time, sitting on the steps outside.

At first, she thought you were crazy being outside this late at night, her reasoning for being up as well was originally to go and get a glass of water.

That’s when she noticed you outside through one of the windows, sitting and watching the stars in silence and alone with your thoughts.

It was something you had done relatively often, only this was the first time Yoohyeon caught you. She sat beside you, following your gaze toward the sky.

“You’re still awake?” You asked, never taking your eyes off the night sky.

“Got thirsty. What’s your excuse?” She yawned. You smiled, finally looking at her.

“I can’t sleep.”

“Hm… Do we snore too loud or-“ Yoohyeon meant it as a joke, but she stopped herself when she noticed the water accumulating in your eyes, yet hadn’t spilled out.

And thankfully for you, they never did.

“I haven’t been able to sleep for a while.” You confessed, a heavy, shaky breath leaving your lips. “It’s hard to sleep when my mind is constantly telling me to do better.”

Yoohyeon listened to every word you said, with sincerity and concern on her expression as you continued to pour your heart out.

It embarrassed you too, admitting to her how vulnerable you really were. You wanted to be strong.

Perfect. Cool. Amazing.

It hurt as your mind contradicted your wishes.

But she listened. She cared.

Yet, you still felt the pain all the same.

-

You continuously messed up the choreography, exhausted and shaking all over from hours of practicing one part of the dance for the group's comeback.

You previously got it right, every step. But today was different and you weren’t sure why when you had done it perfectly just the day before.

It frustrated you have perfection seemed to come and go whenever it saw fit. It frustrated you how perfection lead you on, only to sink you deeper into the hole you felt stuck in.

Bora and Gahyeon stuck behind with you long after the other girls had left to take care of other obligations or simply just to return to the dorms.

Both girls remaining had opted to help you out, Bora spotting the steps you continuously missed or botched altogether, and took it slower, step by step as Gahyeon offered tips here and there— Which you took heed of, but for some reason, you just could not get the steps right.

How am I going to be perfect if I can’t get this down?

The thoughts came racing back again.

Gahyeon noticed your frustrations with yourself tearing away at you.

Then Bora noticed too when you stumbled backward and fell to the ground from the mental and physical exhaustion.

“Woah! Let’s take a break… Maybe pick up again tomorrow, what do you say?” Bora kneeled beside you, glancing at Gahyeon, who rushed to bring you a water bottle.

“Yes. We can go eat and call it a day.” Gahyeon agreed as you shakily held the bottle, drinking the refreshing water.

“I can’t. I’m not good enough for this.” You gripped the bottle as water sloshed out. On top of that, your voice cracked as the lump in your throat attempted to block your voice from leaving your throat.

“Where is this coming from? You are good enough. You’re more than enough!” Bora frowned, concerned.

Gahyeon took the liberty to hold your hand as you began to cry.

“I’m trying, I promise!” Your cries turned into sobs, the bottled-up emotions spilling out again since the previous time.

Over and over again, like a cloud, filling up until it bursts.

“I know you are. You’ve worked hard enough already. Let’s call it a night. Me, you, and Gahyeon- maybe the others if they are free- All of us go out to eat. You’ve more than earned it.” Bora attempted to soothe you as Gahyeon continued to hold onto your hand.

“And if you want, you can vent to me. I will listen.” Bora spoke with such sincerity that you cried harder.

“Me too. Whatever you need, I— We got you covered.” Gahyeon inputs, caressing the back of your hand with her thumb.

Putting your feelings into words was hard. You never knew where to start and sometimes it got jumbled, lost in translation, and incomprehensible.

And still, you tried. A weight simultaneously lifting off your shoulder while also weighing you down more.

The support you had received around you opened your eyes more and the loneliness you felt inside felt like an odd thing to feel, knowing you were surrounded by people who loved and cared for you.

-

You were anxious. It was the day of the comeback and you had listened to Bora and Gahyeon about picking back up the next day.

When the next day came, you were able to do the choreography again without any mistakes. Day after day, each practice before the promotion period, you nailed the dance flawlessly as a group and individually.

Your hands shook and your heart raced. All of this time chasing perfection, you weren’t sure why you hadn’t reached it yet.

“We’re next!” Gahyeon excitedly announced backstage as the group before you started to finish up their stage.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, fearing you would mess up or that your nerves would show through.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m fine… Thank you.”

A common excuse, but you actually began to mean it, even if slightly.

And you were fine. Every doubt you had, every worry, every thought, they were internal. No one else thought you were as flawed as you thought.

Nothing was wrong with you. You were perfect. You had a ton of support and love from family, friends, and fans who —In their eyes— Saw you as perfect.

You were just fine. You were cool. You were amazing.

You weren’t perfect.

You were perfectly imperfect. Everyone was.

And that was okay.

Even in the hole you felt stuck in, pulling yourself out seemed like an actual possibility with the support system you had discovered that had been there all along, patiently by your side until you see yourself the way those around you did.

“Remember, you’ll do just fine. You always have.”

“Thank you. I won’t fail you!” You replied, adjusting your in-ear.

The girls fondly smiled at you, feeling a sense of pride toward you.

“You never have.”

You were cool, amazing, and your own kind of perfect, even if it will take some time for you to accept.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

heyy ari!!

i hope you're having a splendid and enjoyable day today. wanted to ask a very important question‼️

what are your five current favorite songs and/or artists?

very curious to see your favs!!

- 🍒

HI 🍒 ANON !! it’s nice to meet u!! this is a great question…. i’m gonna b honest though when it comes to music i. kinda live under a rock? 😭 i didn’t even start thinking abt my favorite artists until a couple years ago… so that’s. a thing.

i can never keep track of my favorite songs but i do have a couple artists i love that come to mind!! :33 so!! in no particular order……

1/ yorushika

actually i lied yorushika is in fact my number one always and forever if yorushika has a million fans i’m one of them if yorushika has one fan that’s me if yorushika has no fans that means i am no longer on this earth. yorushika is a jpop/jrock band consisting of n-buna (songwriter/musician) and suis (vocalist) and they mean the whole galaxy to me their lyrics are so insanely good i use them for writing inspo all the time and in general they’re just?? so good??? their songs always feel so bittersweet and nostalgic and the instrumentals are soo incredible…. this is my favorite band of all time they fr changed my life i highly recommend checking out any of their songs/albums bc they have literally never missed. I Fucking Love Yorushika.

my favorite songs of theirs are blooming in that summer / hachigatsu, bou, tsukiakari / replicant !! :3 i have a million other favs but i’ll leave it at that..

2/ the front bottoms

i love these guys so bad i do….. i actually know literally nothing abt the band itself but i adore their songs and just. how scratchy and cool the vocalist’s voice is!! idk i’m not good at explaining it i just love their songs sm!! :’3 they have a very specific vibe to them that i can’t pinpoint but it does make me feel like a rabid dog so there’s that <33 if u have any form of daddy issues i’m sure u’ll love them (they’re also EXTREMELY stsg coded hello…)

my favorite songs of theirs are be nice to me / father / funny you should ask !! :3

3/ mitski

we all saw it coming let’s be real i don’t know a single queer jjk fan who doesn’t love mitski we literally owe her everything? jokes aside it actually took me some time to warm up to her songs, at first i only loved her lyrics but eventually i saw The Light. her songs have this specific melancholic vibe that i’ve never found in anything else and i eat it up every single time ….. i adore her instrumentals and her voice and obv her lyrics !! i resonate a lot with them AND i associate them w lots of jjk characters (especially sugu wbk he’s a mitski girlie).. i just really love her !! she’s Mother always and forever :)

my favorite songs of hers are goodbye, my danish sweetheart / a pearl / i’m your man !! :33

4/ ricky montgomery

RICKYYY MY ANGEL ON THIS EARTH i love him so bad. :( he makes me happy. his songs are so comfy so cozy so lovely i just adore them……. they’re very winter-y but also very summer-y i just love them a lot!! and i think his interactions w the jjk/sk8 fandoms are so funny he’s my emotional support artist i think i would probably kill if he asked me to

my favorite songs of his are cabo / california / line without a hook !! :3

5/ beabadobee

what can i even say abt her…. she’s my goddess i think. beabadobee is like mitski in that her songs just have this specific Vibe that nothing else has and it makes me yearn so bad… sooo nostalgic and vibrant i just think she’s so ridiculously good !!! her songs never fail to make me lose it entirely i listen to them often while writing too !!! they’re soooo catchy and wonderful <333

my favorite songs of hers are don’t get the deal / apple cider / cologne !! :3

[alittlextrathatway]

Only bought this dress so you could take it off + living room

Final part of the Football AU I started. You can find the other parts here: part one | part two | part three

***

Matt's been back in practices and games for two weeks when he finally approaches Sylvie about a date. He takes her out for dinner and a concert. Their special teams coach is in a Rush cover band and tonight was their last gig until after New Years. It was important to Mouch that they show up.

Afterward, they go out to dinner at Swift and Sons.

Sylvie calls it the best dinner she'd ever had and declares before they've even had dessert that Swift and Sons is her new favorite restaurant. To say Matt feels as if the date is going well is an understatement.

The two of them seem to have the same priorities and similar tastes. She loved spending their date supporting Mouch. Since she joined the team, Sylvie and Mouch have developed a close bond. He dotes on her as if she's the daughter he never had and Sylvie enjoys listening to him tell however many stories he wants. She appreciates his humor and his wisdom.

Watching Sylvie bond with someone who's been a mentor to him his entire career means more to him than Sylvie knows.

She cherishes the people in her life to the same degree Matt always has. To him, it speaks to her character and leaves him in more awe of her than ever.

"I can't believe you've never listened to Rush," he teases, shaking his head at her after he directs his driver to take them to Sylvie's condo.

Not one to simply sit back and take it, she dishes the teasing right back. "You'll have to forgive me for not being of a certain age."

"Did you just call me old?" Matt asks, feigning outrage. "I am not old!"

"No, but you have to admit you have suspiciously old taste in music," she says, chuckling through her words.

"Because I don't listen to Taylor Swift all the time, that means I'm old?"

"I don't listen to Taylor Swift all the time."

"No, that's true. Sometimes you listen to boybands."

"Hey! There is nothing wrong with a good boyband! We would be missing out on some truly iconic songs without them," she says, playfully smacking his shoulder.

"Okay, sure."

"Oh, I will get you to take that back eventually. Mark my words, Quarterback."

The car stops indicating they've arrived. Sylvie glances out the window but doesn't reach for the door handle. She briefly bites her bottom lip and then aims a beseeching smile at him. "Would you like to come up for a cup of coffee?"

Yes. He would like that very much. "As long as there's decaf," he jokes. "Or else I'm gonna be up all night."

She laughs and rolls her eyes at him. "Maybe being up all night might be worth it, did you think of that?"

Oh, he did. More than once. "I guess there's a chance it might, yeah."

She steps out of the car first, giving him the perfect view of her dress. It's black and backless with a halter neck. The knot holding it up rests on the nape of her neck. The minute she opened the door, he imagined what would happen if that knot came undone. He has no expectation of finding out tonight. They may have known each other for weeks now, but this is still their first date. Whatever happens, happens, but he won't put unnecessary pressure on her. Not about intimacy, physical or emotional. He knows better than most that if it's not freely given then it means nothing. Trying to force someone to do what you want them to do will always drive people further apart.

Once he's out of the car, she grabs his hand and laces their fingers together. Waving at her doorman as they pass, she makes a beeline for the elevator. Within a few minutes, that pass strangely quickly, they're standing in her living room as she drops her keys on to her coffee table.

Her condo is relatively small, but extremely cozy. She's filled it with soothing colors and personal memories. It's not just a place to live, it's a home. His condo is nowhere near this comfortable. He just never knows what to do with all the space. Aside from Football, he doesn't have many good memories to put in picture frames and use for decoration.

"I like your place," he offers, glancing around with a small wistful smile.

"Yeah, right," she says with a scoff. "It's tiny compared to your penthouse."

"More expensive isn't always better," Matt tells her. "I have a lot of space but it's all empty so it doesn't do me much good."

"Well, you can come and share my space anytime you want," Sylvie offers as she crosses the living room and heads for the kitchen. She starts a pot of coffee as she continues. "Honestly, most of the time I feel pretty isolated when I'm home. Being in a new city and not knowing very many people is lonely sometimes."

"You should call me when you need some company. I have no social life," he says with a self deprecating smirk. "You won't be interrupting anything."

“If you’re waiting for me to call and I’m waiting for you to come over then no wonder we’re both still so lonely all these weeks after meeting,” she says, laughing softly.

“I don’t want to disrupt your life any more than I already have,” he explains. It’s the first time that night that either of them have referenced their recent popularity in the press. Their affection for each other made it into Page Six and ever since the public has kept an eye on them, looking for any signs of their burgeoning relationship. “So, I’m trying to let you set the pace.”

“I appreciate that,” Sylvie says, looping her arms around his shoulders. “Most guys wouldn’t even think about that. Trust me, I know.”

His hands find her waist, pulling her closer and closer until her chest rests against his. “Yeah, well, I have a feeling you’re as private as I am. I had a hard time adjusting to life in the public eye early on in my career. I’d like to make that easier for you, if I can.”

“That’s a lot of thinking for a guy who hasn’t even kissed me yet.”

His stare roams her face and he finds a playful smile on her lips and a challenging gleam in her eyes. If he’s letting her behavior be his guide, then he’s long overdue on taking them to the next level. It’s a good thing he still has time to correct himself.

“It’s been nice to have a friend, Matt,” Sylvie tells him, letting one of her hands drift into the short hairs on the back of his head. “Especially while settling in. So, thank you for that.” He tenses for a second, afraid she might be letting him down easy, but then her eyes drift down to his lips as she keeps talking. ”But I’m all settled in now and I’d like to be more than just your friend. If that’s okay with you?”

He chuckles, holding her tighter and resting his forehead against hers. “That’s more than okay with me. Honestly, I’ve been waiting for this moment from the first minute that we met.”

She looks skeptical, unsure if he’s flattering her or being truthful, but before she can ask he swoops in and slants his mouth over hers -- sealing them together. A startled noise escapes her throat, but as her lips part and the kiss intensifies it deepens into a moan. She tries to press herself closer, but they’re as close as they can possibly be while standing up. Matt backs her up toward the sofa, pressing her down onto it once the backs of her legs hit the couch.

He’s not sure what she’s feeling but he knows for certain he’s never felt kisses like these. They’re drugging and exhilarating all at once. Goosebumps raise all over his skin and he feels overheated everywhere he hands wander. He can already tell she’s going to be an addiction he’ll never be able to quit.

This is a once in a lifetime moment and he plans to commit every bit of it to memory. The textures, the tastes, the sounds -- not a bit of it will fade no matter how long he lives.

As his kisses trail down her neck, Sylvie gently pushes against his shoulder, indicating she wants his attention. When he looks up at her, she’s grinning wickedly.

“I don’t know where you see this night going or how far you want to take this, but you should know…I bought this dress with the intention of it ending up on the floor.”His fantasy of untying that delicate bow resting on the nape of her neck comes roaring back to him as he smiles slowly and crookedly. She’s already making his wildest dreams come true and he has a feeling she’ll bring many more of them to life in the future. This isn’t just any date, it’s the date. He knows in his bones that this is the last first date he’ll ever have.

[redsrandomrants]

Let Me Tell You Why Dr Horrible's Sing-Along Blog Has Aged Badly

With the current writing strike going on I remembered how good this was and hoped this strike will produce a sequel but… man, this aged badly. When I was a teenager and I first saw it I loved it, I loved that dichotomy and harmony of My Eyes and I thought Billy was sympathetic and his fall tragic. Um yeah, that’s not the case anymore. 

Billy gives off major incel vibes. He stalks this girl, doesn’t know a thing about her, and the things he finds out he doesn’t like but lies to her and pretends he does literally to get in her pants. He scoffs at the things she's passionate about, creeps on her dates with Hammer, says the actual line “Penny doesn’t seem to care that soon the dark in me is all that will remain” as if it’s Penny’s concern what he does with his life. She doesn’t even know him; she bumped on him on the street once, he was a dismissive ass about her petition, and that’s it. They’ve had ONE conversation that lasted two minutes, and she’s supposed to care about this rude stranger? What I thought as a teen was really cool about their duet I now see as a woman living her best life and some creep trying to claim ownership of her. 

The emotional core of the story is the connection between Penny and Billy, and it’s just done very poorly. Why does he care about her? He doesn’t know her. She looks pretty and that’s it. Penny is the epitome of woman in the fridge trope, just someone who’s there for the men to fight over and dies to further a man’s development. What pushed Billy to murder is not that Hammer was treating Penny badly (he wasn’t) but that he’s gonna have sex with her and “take” what Billy wants. Forget the fact that Penny might want to sleep with the guy, what do the thoughts and feelings of the object matter, am I right. It’s not that Billy is sad Penny has feelings for Hammer and not him, no, no. It’s that she will be claimed by someone else, how dare we think it might be about Penny and what she feels.  In addition to that, the framing of Hammer is that he’s only doing the hero thing about the attention and he doesn’t really care, but does he? Sure he taunts Billy in the laundromat, but he didn’t date Penny just to spite him -- he started dating her before he knew that that they knew each other. Penny is “not his usual, but nice”, he discards the cue cards he could have easily just read from and talks about how Penny is helping him flex “the deltoids of compassion and the abs of being kind”. If we must have a story about a woman being emotional support and making a man better, why can’t it be about a guy who is already doing good for the wrong reasons and she helps him be a more fundamentally compassionate person? Why must it be about the incel who wants anarchy without even knowing what that is? “Anarchy! That I run! It's Dr. Horrible's turn!” — that’s not how that works, Billy.

The music is great, and all the actors are so charming, and I really think the third act works in isolation, but the relationships in the first and second are too toxic to build a good foundation to that. Maybe instead of Billy having a song about how he’s obsessing over a girl he’s never met, it could have been about this girl he does know and what he actually likes about her? Maybe instead of getting mad that Hammer is taking something that “he wants” he gets mad that Hammer is abusing her? Or like just any legit reason to get mad that’s about her and not his own feelings of inadequacy? Maybe instead of him lamenting that “Penny doesn’t seem to care” about a guy she doesn’t know, he laments how she seems to be falling for Hammer’s lies while he, let’s say, checks out other women on their dates? 

I know this was made in 2008 but man. It could really use a rewrite to make the core relationships a little stronger.