From the commentary, apparently Jubilee’s the fashionable team vampire mom, Morph is the resident Sad Boy, Hindsight’s the new half Korean character (like writer Christina Strain herself) who has psychometric powers and loves vintage clothing, Bling is struggling to find herself and fit in her diamond skin, and Naturegirls going to have a hard time connecting with the others because she understands nature better then people. There wasn’t info for Eyeboy and Quentin, but the art is from Christina Strain’s twitter. Strain chose artist Amilcar Pina to be the penciller bc of his alternative and modern style. Check both of them out on Twitter! Issue 1 of Generation X is coming out in May!
Sometimes I remind myself that I almost skipped the party, that I almost went to a different college, that the whim of a minute could have changed everything and everyone. Our lives, so settled, so specific, are built on happenstance.
21 People On What They Would Tell Their 19-Year-Old Selves
There is no such thing as “the only one”. You will meet lots of “the ones”. Only commit when the timing is right for the both of you – that can take years for some, and that’s okay.
Deodorant does not count as a shower, and that haircut only looked good on Bon Jovi.
Make the conscious decision to be happy, and then stick with it. Society will do everything in its power to convince you that your personal happiness is dependent on something external – beauty, success, wealth, etc. – it isn’t.
60% of the things you think are important now won’t matter a whit to you by the time you reach 50. The trick is to figure out the important 40% and work it.
He doesn’t love you, and you will be okay.
Don’t let anything stand in your way of taking part (or all) of your junior year abroad. You’ll never again have quite the same opportunity to experience a foreign land, for an extended period of time, in your youth. It is destined to be one of the most memorable aspects of your life.
Talk less. Listen more.
There’s a huge difference between who you want to be and who everyone around you wants you to be. Figure out which is which.
Always remember: when falling off a horse, pull your tongue in.
No one knows anything for sure. They’re all just doing the best they can with what they have, just like you.
You’ll never have all the answers, so make every question count.
You don’t have to grow up to be the dad you never had.
Make the most out of college. You will never again be at a place where your only goal is to learn. Learn a lot, learn often, and learn with reckless abandon.
Women love to laugh.
Drugs are not beautiful, glamorous or opulent. They are not a remedy, a solution, a cure-all, or a cure-anything.
You miss so much life when you sleep until 3 PM. Wake up to see sunrises; they are the most stunning of nature’s masterpieces.
Eating two pints of ice cream won’t make you happy. Neither will sprinting 10 miles. Be nice to yourself.
Don’t forget to ask that girl in the Oberlin library what kind of perfume she’s wearing. You’ll buy it for her in 20 years.
Don’t be afraid to be yourself. Those that get you will love you, those that don’t, well, their loss. Just remember: Wherever you are, it’s a party.
I hope you’re awesome. And be nice to girls.
Should you come upon some time for prompts or feel like answering one, a Hindsight one came to me: Robin describes their child from the sonogram to Regina and Roland eavesdrops because he wants to know what the baby will look like too!
So I strayed a bit from your prompt, but I hope you like the result. :) This is dedicated to you, dear nonnie, and my precious friend @repellomuggletum15 who requested more Hindsight for her birthday–back in February. Sorry for the delay! I can only hope it was worth the wait. :)
“Oh my God.”
The hitch in his breathing stilled her heart, and she squeezed his hand, needing to know exactly what he was seeing.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, cursing her blindness a million ways at once as her hand moved to the top of her growing belly. She shifted on the table, hating the crunch of paper rustling beneath her. “Is the baby–?”
“Beautiful,” Robin interrupted, his tone as raspy as his beard. “Our baby is beautiful, Regina.”
He drew her hand to his lips, and she sighed at the familiar texture now damp with fresh tears.
“Tell me,” she breathed. “Please.”
Her mind sought images denied her, filling itself with expectation and wonder to the point that she almost couldn’t breathe.
Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run, but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant.
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (Hunter S. Thompson)