if you ever find yourself thinking "i wish i had more ridiculous low-stakes petty hobby drama in my day-to-day life" you need to get a comic book friend
it has to be a friend because if you actually read them yourself it'll stop being ridiculous low-stakes petty hobby drama and instead become horrific emotional terrorism
more people should write alloromantic characters in qprs tbh. i mean more people should write qprs in general in all circumstances but my particular hill to die on tonight is more alloromantic characters in qprs. in qprs with aromantic partners, in qprs with another alloromantic partner, in qprs with other characters where they could technically have compatible orientations romantically but that's not what kind of relationship they have or want anyway.
Currently: the crew are attempting to invade the city of Seoul. Via road trip. In search of demon wraiths. While everyone else goes in for snacks, Miyeong and Minji are in a gas station parking lot discussing exactly what Miyeong might get if Minji canât name anything Miyeong has written.
Miyeongâs first, awful thought is something that would mean as much as Minji doesnât realize this would mean to herâa journalist might own their articles by default, the Chronicleâs exclusivity clause is airtight.
But.
Itâs Minji.
So she makes a face, humming, and tries to find something that will be both clearly selfish and also enjoyable for Minji.
âWell,â she drawls, âyou do keep complaining about the state of my refrigerator. Why donât you make me some breakfast?â
Minji does like cooking, even if she doesnât bother with doing it for herself as often as she might in a different occupation. And doing it for Miyeong absolutely means doing it for herself.
âMm, how about that one you did on the birth rate? âChildbirths soar to seven-year highâ?â Minji offers. âOr that silly puff piece on âHow to survive year-end party season without getting drunkâ you did? I thought that one was sweet.â
Immediately. With barely a thought.
But it makes sense, given that Miyeong wrote those just a few months ago, and she was writing about things Minji knew decently.
âLow-hanging fruit,â she insists. âAnd please, donât tell me you bothered to read those.â
âI read everything you write,â Minji says steadily. âBut what about that series you did on those construction projects in Guryong? I thought it was damn well-researched.â
It was also years ago.
Miyeong felt the same way. Most people who contacted them regarding the articles were either calling her boring or asking why the hell she was opposed to something supposedly cleaning Guryong up, like they hadnât read a word of it. Her editor cut the series short because of it.
Minji snorts; sheâs on a roll now. âOr that one you did right after? About the youtuber with the smuggling case? What was it, âyoutuber accused in government crackdownâ? That one was so funny.â
âI donât write my own headlines,â Miyeong says numbly. She hadnât thought anyone understood that it was as much joke as reporting, not when the joke was her own career and the punchline her audience. âAlmost no reporter does.â
Minji smirks crookedly. âWell, I read it. So I know it.â
Unfortunately, despite hunting through the rest of the impressively-stocked convenience store, they don't find anything more Mira-friendly than the not-really-a-snack bagged jelly.
Zoey has issues with this.
"What kind of convenience store has microwaves but not applesauce?" she grumbles as the cashier yawns out their total and Celine pays with her card. "Everyone has applesauce!" (or, well, everyone in California; maybe that didn't apply here?)
"It is a grave disappointment," Rumi, only acquainted with the food because Celine had bought a jar at the grocery store, nods from where she's loading their purchases into bags (single-use plastic; she'll have to make sure they dispose of them properly).
"Can we just- stop making a thing about it?" Mira mumbles, angling herself away from the cashier. The guy is clearly phoning his shift in, but he's not so checked-out that he doesn't notice the stilted way Mira's talking or the faint sheen of purple on her cheek where the concealer got smudged away during their practice with the shin kal; in between looking fo barcodes he's glancing her way, and Mira is obviously hating it.
The sight hits Zoey like a bullet between the eyes, guilt bleeding from the wound. This is always how it goes, isn't it? A leitmotif to her life. She tries to help, tries to be what the people around her need or want, only to be 'too much' in the end. "Obnoxious" and "overwhelming" and, in the case of her parents, "a lot" (in a sighing, hand-to-the-forehead kind of way).
She wonders which one Mira's thinking of. Probably all three.
She'll be tired of you by the ferry.
The slithery, hissing voice in her head- the one that was living there rent-free before Gwi-Ma popped in- sifts through her, sand through fingers, leaving a gritty trail before piling in her stomach.
Her family, her California classmates, now the hot woman she was going to hunt wraiths with; likely Rumi would be next in line to decide she's had enough of her (not that she seems the type, but Zoey's effect on people can be impressive).
You just can't get anything right.
Shoving her hand int her pocket and cursing to herself when it comes up empty (damn she missed her phone) she reaches behind her and blindly tugs a newspaper free from the rack, a weekly edition of some sorts. The cheap paper cracks in her hands as she snaps it open to a random story.
TikTok Reality Check: Five Influencers Better than Reality TV
It is an excessively dumb article. Still, she skims it anyway, more interested in a distraction than people who live-streamed their dumpster fire dating lives on TikTok. After a moment the hairs on the back of her neck stand up at a sudden presence alongside her, and the paper crumples in her grip as Rumi's breath brushes across her ear.
"Books have certainly changed a great deal."
Zoey glances quick at the cashier, consumed with reloading paper in the register's printer for their receipt. Not that he seemed the type to care about twenty-somethng's talking like they were centuries old, she'd ratherâŠnot deal with that today.
Tugging Rumi towards the relative privacy of the microwaves, she gives her a quick rundown of modern newspapers and magazines.
"There are some really good ones," she finishes. "JustâŠnot this."
Rumi nods her head sagely, committing all Zoey's words to memory (that should not tingle the way it does) and points to the title. "And what is this?"
"TikTok?" Zoey chews her lip. "It'sâŠ" Shoot, had they explained videos to Rumi yet? Really wishing for her phoneâŠ
"It's something people use to murder time," Mira swoops in, coming to join them and motioning towards the door, Celine having finished paying.
(and any warmth she feel at Mira's coming back is doused by the thought that this was just until they finished living an episode of Buffy)
Zoey takes issue with that assessment. But before she can vouch for TikTok's virtues Mira's peering at the article. "Really surprised she writes that stuff; doesn't seem the type."
"What do you mean?" Zoey asks, Rumi making an adorably confused sound. (No! Bad Zoey! No swooning over the pretty girls!
It'll make it harder when they leave)
Mira taps the byline as they step into the parking lot in time to catch the tail end of Minji and Miyeong's conversation.
"âŠAnd that TikTok piece."
"Don'tâŠmy editor insisted on it."
If that wasn't incriminating enough, the look on Miyeong's face when she saw the paper in Zoey's hands- and in Celine's line of sight- left no doubt.
âŠHuh.
But she'd blown enough chances that she can't help grinning like everything was alright when it definitely wasn't. "You know," she says once they're back at the cars. "If you want to write a follow-up, I know some great marine biologists in there."
Rumi does that adorable confused thing again. "What is a marine biologist?"
It's like a switch has been flipped, or more accurately Rumi'smwords unlocked something in her, and she turns to the not-so-ancient-but-old-enough-marine-biology-in-it's-glorious-current-form-wasn't-a-thing hero and beams.
Zoey knows she shouldn't; knows she's probably on thin ice; knows what the best way to alienate people is.
But she has been waiting her whole life for someone to ask that.
Zoey blooms as she starts to speak. It is all Rumi can do to bask in her presence and try to keep up with her increasingly rapid speechâcurse the mainland tongue, and curse Rumi for not being good enough with it.
Apparently, she learns, a marine biologist is one who studies the creatures that live in the ocean. The very first marine biologists lived thousands of years before even Rumiâmen with names like Xenophanes and Herodotus. (Though Zoeyâs opinion of the latter as a whole is not very high, he did write a very funny anecdote about a man being saved from drowning by a dolphin.)
Zoey breezes through Charles Darwin and Charles Wyville Thomsonâperhaps Charles is a title she is unfamiliar with?âand the âtheory of evolutionâ (???) before making a joke about âAAPI solidarityâ (or, at least, it must be, as Mira laughs) and beginning to tell them of the people who live in the seas south and east of Jeju.
Rumiâs head in spinning in the best of ways as they settle onto the ferry and Zoey tugs her and Mira out of the parked car and across the massive, metal deck of the shipâhow does it still float?!?âto watch the waves.
âI⊠sorry,â Zoey says, stuttering to a sudden halt as they look out on the gray, late afternoon waters. âIâve kinda just⊠full bore Zoey, huh? I didnât mean toâŠâ
âDude,â Mira says, leaning on the rail with effortless grace. âItâs cool that you know all this stuff. You should keep going.â
Zoey bites her lip, looking as if this has done the opposite of reassuring her, and flicks her gaze to Rumi, who does her best to rearrange her features from confusion to enthusiasm with a broad smile.
âScholars that would study the deep are a brave group indeed, to not fear any of the monsters that lie below, or even the simpler dangers of drowning,â she says, hopefully encouraging.
Zoey lightens a little. Then pauses.
âWait,â she says, eyes going wide, âare sea monsters real?â
Itâs Miyeong who finds the protein shakes, in the food court, while theyâre waiting for Minji and the others.
âWe should get a good supply,â Celine muses. âThereâs probably something Mira can have for dinner, somewhere in all this, but itâd be good to have some at the hotel, afterward.â
Itâs hard to tell, but Miyeong thinks she seems a little relieved, like the shakes somehow represent something more than just whether a capable adult woman who can probably handle being hungry for a few hours will continue to have to do so.
And Miyeong did that.
She tamps down on the inappropriate pride, again, as they find their seats.
Celine, who confiscated Zoeyâs literary trash at the gate on the argument that sheâd paid for it, after all, plops the offending magazine down on the table between them. âIâd like to read it,â she says, polite and sincere and completely unexpected, âbut you seemed a little upset about us seeing it. We can throw it away, if you prefer.â
Miyeong blinks at her. âThatâsâŠâ
Unbelievably considerate? Impossibly respectful of the privacy of a person whose entire job is to violate everyone elseâs? Yet more proof that Minji is absolutely insane to even be saying Celine and Miyeongâs names in the same breath?
â⊠very kind of you.â
Celine furrows her brow a little, like she doesnât agree, but she doesnât say anything, just waits patiently.
âItâs not the writing itself, exactly. I wonât claim to be good at much, but I know Iâm good at that,â says Miyeong. âItâs more the topic. Forever ago, when I first got into reporting, I used to have this idea that I was going to write about things that matter. Itâs harder to ignore how very much that did not pan out, when people I actually know are reading my trash listicles about TikTok.â
And Minji claims to have read all of it.
Celineâs look turns a little piercing, suddenly. âMiyeong-nim, forgive me if this is too forward, but, are you all right? Youâve seemed to have something heavy, on your mind, since we left the convenience store.â
âYou should probably cut it down at least to -ssi, if youâre going to be reading my listicle trash,â says Miyeong, to cover the odd combination of embarrassment and warmth at Celine noticing her discombobulation.
âAs you like. Miyeong-ssi.â
Oh, that might have been a mistake.
â...Itâs about Minji,â says Miyeong, in lieu of acknowledging that. âI've known her forever, we share a friend group. Well, we did. And she was friendly enough when we were all out together. But just us, one-on-one, our entire relationship has been her kicking me out of the hospital, and chasing me away from her staff, and yelling at me about privacy laws and patient privilege. I wasnât lying before, I've genuinely never really thought she even liked me.
âIf thatâs not true, if it never was, if Iâve actually mattered to her, all this time, I donât⊠I donât know what to do with that.â
Celine makes a sort of noncommittal Iâm listening hum, which is much more polite than calling Miyeong a dumbass. Miyeong appreciates the restraint.
Imagine you're a big wrestling fan. You follow this one really dominant wrestler and you absolutely love her. You keep up with all the drama and you're super invested until one week there's just Bomb after Bomb.
First your fave dominates an event - duh, obviously, she's the best. Then during the part of the show where the announcer is like "anybody in the audience want to challenge her for a fat stack of cash", somebody actually does. (Obviously a tourist.) It's some kid wearing like a beginner outfit from a McDojo... and he actually wins?And gets the cash! And then the event just ends!?
You're buzzing. It's clear that this is like a storyline or something. You can't wait for next week's show. Except that there isn't one, because - as you find out through the gossip mill - your fave was actually the local billionaires' daughter who was competing in secret. And also kayfabe might not exist. And now she's gone and the billionaire is blaming a demigod (who's back from the dead? I guess?) for kidnapping her.
So, how come that means no show this week or possibly ever? Well, the billionaire hired the promoter (and a random McDojo sensei) to go after the demigod to get back his daughter (your fave wrestler!) and the guy just... packed up his entire promotion and left.
Some months later the war that's been going on since your great-grandfathers days ends. You go to a peace parade. And there she is: Toph Beifong, the Blind Bandit, giving the new Fire Lord a noogie.
Tâpel, upon learning that Tuvok is officially missing in action, completely fine: This is troubling news. However, I can sense his katra still, and I know he yet lives. He will return when he is able.
An admiral, four years later, informing Tâpel of the news: Lieutenant Tuvok is trapped in the Delta Quadrant. It is a harrowing situation, but he is alive and has Captain Janewayâs leadership. I am sure they will return.
Tâpel, experiencing visceral flashbacks to all the reckless stunts her husband and his Human Best Friend have gotten up to in the name of duty BEFORE going missing: *eye twitching.* I am. Pleased.
Focusing on how "the Jedi made mistakes/were flawed" is not actually as nuanced of a take as you think it is since it WILDLY misses the point of the destruction of the Jedi.
It doesn't matter if the Jedi made mistakes or were flawed. It truly truly doesn't, it's SO beyond the point of this narrative it's not even funny.
The POINT of the death of the Jedi is that you can do everything right and still lose. And even more so, you can be the most moral, compassionate, selfless person in the galaxy and it won't matter if everyone around you has decided to be selfless and greedy.
The point of the death of the Jedi is that they seem like this group that should be nearly impossible to take down, they're full of powerful people who can do powerful things, they've got laser swords and magic powers and can jump really far and run really fast, and they use all of this to do nothing but HELP PEOPLE all the time, and in the end they all die because no one around them wanted to do the same. Fascism is a group effort, it's not the work of one dude or even two. Yes, Palpatine comes in and abuses the system to do bad things, but his entire plan relies on THOUSANDS of people choosing to do bad things with him. Anakin, yes, but also the corporate alliance and Dooku and Jango and Grievous and Maul and the Geonosians and the Kaminoans and Tarkin and so so so many Senators (enough that a Delegation of 2000 feels like their efforts are likely a shot in the dark). The Jedi are doing EVERYTHING RIGHT, they're heroes who give their lives to save others, but they're surrounded by people who wouldn't do the same, and that's what kills them.
THAT'S the point. The Jedi being flawed completely bypasses that point entirely. Focusing on "mistakes" the Jedi might have made, or flaws they might have, means that you're now completely ignoring the entire message about how fighting BACK against fascism and evil is ALSO a group effort. The Jedi cannot do it alone, and if enough people are not standing up to darkness with them, IT IS GUARANTEED TO WIN. Even the most powerful, most selfless people in the world can't stand up against a galaxy full of people prepared to submit to their own fears.
Too many people gave in to darkness and by doing so, they lost the one thing truly standing between them and tyranny. The loss of the Jedi is SYMBOLIC of the consequences of giving into your fears. That's why the triumph OVER evil is represented by the RETURN OF THE JEDI. There is no real nuance to "but they were flawed, but the made mistakes, but they could have done this, but they could have NOT done that." Truly, there is not. Focusing on the Jedi's "flaws" or "mistakes" just means you're missing the actual point of the story and the Jedi's role in it.
being a writer means there are times where you donât write anything for a week or so, and then there are times where you write 10,000 words in one day
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