#and like i said even if you tried to reason with them you can't because you can't reason with the unreasonable

[kneelbeforeclefairy]

HI HI ITS ME HI! I have been diagnosed with both of those! I think I do have both. The sleep doctor said I can't have both but it's possible I have a hybrid of the two? And they gave me the initial diagnosis of non24 but then another doctor said he didn't believe I had that because largely blind people had it but I was like HI I CAN BE THE EXCEPTION TO THE RULE it does occur it sighted people.

And boy if it's not apnea they have no idea what to do. I did a sleep study and apparently I had some minor apnea but not even enough to qualify as sleep apnea,but all they wanted to talk about was a CPAP or a night guard and I'm like. Guys. When I'm not hooked up to 1001 machines once I sleep I sleep well. Can you listen to that and focus on my actual sleep issues. Barely. Also I had to fill out a sleep log for two weeks or whatever and thank God it was during covid so it did show some of my "natural sleep" but because it wasn't even every day the doctor didn't think I had non24. Well of course it wasn't and even 2 hours later every day. I FIGHT It. I've learned how to fight it. Also like. I didn't have steady work but I had shit to do so some times I had to get up at a certain time.

And when I tried to get them to focus on the sleep disorder weather it was delayed sleep phase or non24 I got told basically. All you can do is control your light intake. Can I put a light box at my desk? Nope. Don't have a desk also i was an early childhood teacher so I sit in the dark for an hour twice a day while babies nap. Oh that's unfortunate. Try micro dosing melatonin. Honestly haven't given that the old college try because melatonin has such a ??? Effect on me that I have been too scared to give it a shot again because I have to get up for work the next day

I think it's just such a fucking awful way to live. I like having a "name" for it. Nice knowing what's going on. But there's still no answers as to how to help. But between that and ADHD it makes time SO difficult to understand and use effectively. And I'm constantly tired. Constantly. Because even if I get eight hours of sleep the delayed sleep phase means I don't feel rested if it's too early. And even if I fall asleep at a reasonable time and get up early for work the next day and I'm fine, within a day or two or three depending on how good I'm fighting it, I'll start going to be a little later. I think my "day" is 26 hours. I'm programed for about eight hours sleep and 18 hours awake, give or take a little. And that....that doesn't work with the real worlds 24 hour day and work schedules that start the same time every day.

Part of me thinks I'm kind of a mild case because I've learned how to live with it and I can hold down jobs it's just harder. But finishing school? School when first period was at 750 ? It's not THE reason I didn't finish high school but it's one of them. But also I've had this since I was a baby. My mother didn't know much from babies, but Ive worked with them for years now and now I know. No. It is not normal for your five month old to not fall asleep until 11pm-midnignt. I still slept the same AMOUNT of hours. But mom could start putting me to bed when I was eight pm and she'd just be rocking me for four hours and I'd fall asleep at 12 anyway, or just start the routine at 10pm and hope. My entire life was fighting my sleep cycle.

I didn't know there were so many of us.

one of the most enlightening realizations ive had was finding out that non-24 hour circadian rhythm people were a pretty large group and most of us have oddly similar cycles of usually around 28hr internal "days" and this masquerades as "insomnia" but if allowed to sleep and wake naturally we will just advance forward through time an extra 2-4 hours a day at a relatively stable pace. we can't go to school or jobs or even run errands on normal schedules without massive pharmacological and behavioral intervention. most of the people who have been diagnosed or figured it out themselves will report horrific, life-ruining disruption in their professional lives and terrible health from accrued lack of sleep. this disorder is most common in vision-impaired people which seems to suggest it's related to light cues. anyway just thinking about this as extremely loud yard work woke me up at 8am for the second day in a row

[colorlessjay]

In season 16, whenever Dean remembers the whole “Cas was not truly happy for YEARS before he cashed in his deal” he goes a little feral and attempts to smotherspoil him with love and attention even tho Cas is like…? with most of the extra attempts (man’s pretty simple with his wants and needs at this point and Dean fulfills them all like all the time now)

But Cas has learned Dean cannot be dissuaded from his course of action when he gets all “my beautiful wife was secretly unhappy (and maybe still is secretly sometimes!!!) and I must make up for it 😭😭!!!”

Bonus: S16 KNOWS S6 Cas is hiding stuff and is stressed and unhappy for those reasons but he’s like 😢😢 u don’t even know u want hugs rn and aren’t getting them either way

Guilt is a powerful thing ya know? It may not make us do things, but it makes us think and feel in a way that provokes action, be it good or bad

Neither Dean nor Cas, or even Sam are absolved of their crimes. All three of them have said and done things they all feel guilty for, and that guilt has made them act. Castiel, for most of his time on earth, has only ever acted because he feels guilt.

Guilt for sitting by and doing nothing for centuries, guilt for his doubt, guilt for the angels he's killed, guilt for never trusting Sam and Dean with his angel problems. Guilt for the leviathans, Mary's death, the angels' fall, for letting Dean down...

And yet, I believe Cas is able to pull himself out of that guilt after everything ha subsided. I believe Cas is able to forgive himself because he's learned that punishment does not absolve you of crimes. Cas tries to make up for his transgressions not through self punishment and banishment, but through self improvement and aiding others. It's why I think he had such a hand in New Heaven's creation with Jack

I don't think Dean is able to forgive himself. I think many people have forgiven him. But I don't think Dean will ever be able to let that guilt go, cause he's shackled to it

I can forgive Cas, but he can't forgive himself

So I like to think think that my version of S16 Dean would spend his time making up for it. He may not be able to forgive himself, but he can damn well try. He has years ahead of him, an eternity in heaven with the people he loves to look forward to (Cas made sure he knew he was going upstairs when the lights go out), and people he loves to keep loving.

So yeah, long winded way of saying:

I think Dean has an underlining fear that his husband is unhappy, both past and present. I think Dean would make up for it instinctively, pouring his efforts into his love and making sure Cas knows that Dean is gonna stick by him, think and thin

In sickness and in health

Through heaven, hell, and purgatory

-----------

anyways, ka-chaw

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

(Kind of want Lilith/Lucifer/Adam)

Au Idea that when Adam was made, he was just to be the prototype. To see if they could actually make something like him to begin with. Lucifer didn't even know about him. Adam wasn't made to be anything special. Almost like a default skin. Plain to look at. Accept for his eyes, a brilliant gold, nothing else stood out.

They cheered at their creation but decided Adam had played his part and stuffed him in a remote part of the Garden where they could forget all about him. Adam didn't know how to do anything. He didn't even know how to talk and then the strange beings grabbed him and left him alone in some small part of the Garden he couldn't leave. Maybe the beings would come back. Maybe they wouldn't. Adam was made to be Subservient to anyone, the Angels wanted something that could worship them, but being alone made him stagnate.

Then Steve and Lilith were made. Steve, a more dominant and controlling person made Lilith's life miserable and she wanted out. Why couldn't she be in charge? Why did she always have to spread her legs for this man who always seemed to push her down, ignore her ideas, and slap her around if she said no?

Lucifer tried to get Steve to see reason but he hated the fact that Lucifer so easily charmed Lilith when he couldn't. Why was that dumb angel so special? Steve was perfect. Lilith should listen to him and only him. If she won't do it willingly, then he'll make her.

One day, while Lucifer was busy with his jobs, Lilith ran away to hide from Steve who once again trying to procreate with her. Disgusted, she kicked him in the groin and ran as fast as possible away from him. While running, she came across and enclosed part of the Garden she had never been in before. Tall trees stood close together, almost like a wall with how they were tangled with each other, and, curious, climbed them to see what was on the other side.

Adam was watching a snail in fascination when he heard rustling from above him. He didn't pay any attention to it because he had no idea what the concept of danger was. Lilith grunted but finally climbed to the top to peer down. She nearly fell out of the tree in shock. Another human. Another human.

She and Steve were not the only ones here in the Garden.

OOOOU!!!

Lilith thought that it was only her and that...... Brute they call her husband. But this, guy? He looks like a man, he doesn't have the body type that she does so another man?

Hopefully better than Steve.

She got down and walked over, gently placing her hand on his shoulder once she was close enough.

Lilith: Excuse me?

Adam jumped at the contact and voice, he looked at this lady, she was beautiful with long blonde hair and violet eyes that shimmered like amuthst. Who was she? He wasn't alone?

Lilith gasped when she saw his eyes, they were so bright they put the sun to shame.

Lilith: My name is Lilith, who are you?

Adam titled his head to the side, he knew his name but he didn't know how to tell her. How was she making those sounds?

She saw the confused look on his face and sighed, he probably didn't know how to talk. This could be a problem.

Lilith: You can't talk..... That's okay, maybe Luci can help with that when he comes down.

Adam was confused, who was this Luci?

Hours passed and Lilith stayed with Adam, she talked to him just to fill the silence and they watched the snails together.

The familiar flap of wings got her attention and she went to get him.

Lilith: Luci! Over here! I have something incredible to show you!

Lucifer smiled, he wondered what it could be. New plant maybe? Though, he wasn't accustomed to this part of the garden.

Lucifer: What is it Lily?

He went over and that's when he saw Adam.

Lilith: I found him here all alone, why would he be here? Why wouldn't they have him in the rest of the garden? Why can't he talk?

[hufflepuffsthunderdome]

Never Easy

Schlatt x gender neutral!reader Summary: Based on this request. Schlatt runs into an old friend at the bar and high school tensions come back to the surface. Teenage feelings come to the surface again as the pair realise their feelings never changed. Warnings: Use of the nickname 'tiny' instead of Y/N a few times, swearing, making out - will be a part 2 with smut

"What the fuck?" a voice somewhere behind Schlatt says as he sits at the bar. He pays no mind to it, chatting happily with his friends until he hears his name called, "schlatt?"

He tenses up as he hears his name, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep sigh as he braces himself to come face to face with the camera of a fan shoved in his face the second he turns around.

"Schlatt?" the voice repeats excitedly, a hand placed on his shoulder to get his attention. He turns in his chair and looks down at the person in front of him, still slightly taller than them even sitting down.

"Hi?" he asks, forcing a smile on his face as he watches you observe him. He tries to be nice, even if the last thing he wants tonight is to be stolen from his friends by fans, he doesn't want some bad interaction someone has with him being plastered over reddit even more.

"Holy shit it is you?" you laugh as you look at him, your hand still on his tense shoulder as you examine him, "Beth said it was you but I couldn't believe it. From the back you look just like any other tall guy with a -"

"Do I know you?" he interrupts, as his eyes scan you, taking you in. Your face is filled with excitement and clear recognition, something about the way your eyes watch his makes it feel like you're seeing into his soul and opening him up from the inside. It's unnerving, to be looked at with such familiarity that he just can't place.

"You don't remember me?" you ask, retracting your hand from his shoulder, the excited smile dropping to a forced one as you keep your gaze locked on him, "it hasn't been that long has it? I would've hoped -"

"Tiny?" he says in surprise as his eyes widen, the name falling so naturally out of his mouth after all this time. He doesn't know where it came from but something about that soft smile you gave him pulls the years of memories back to the front of his brain as he looks at you.

"Ugh still with that nickname," you groan, before giggling excitedly as Schlatt all but tackles you in a hug.

"Holy fuck this is insane," he laughs giddily as he engulfs you in his arms, you two standing there embracing for the longest time. It's been years since you've seen each other, you've both changed so much it's almost impossible to think that you were even able to recognise each other.

One of his friends coughing from the bar behind him and shooting him a teasing look is all it takes to make him retract from the hug and put his guard back up. He sits back down in his seat with a grumble as he blushes, "Tiny, these are my college friends. Lads, Tiny."

"We're really sticking with that nickname huh?" you say as you roll your eyes, introducing yourself to his group of friends as they make idle small talk.

Schlatt can't help but admire you as you talk to his friends, so effortlessly sliding into the group as if you've known his friends longer than he has. You were always good at that, all through school. Half the reason he had a social life was because he would get dragged around everywhere with you, as this little bottle rocket would effortlessly charm anyone they met, dragging the socially awkward giant along with them.

You've changed so much, it's not surprising he barely recognised you. You look different, new hair, new piercings, new glasses, shedding the awkward, shaggy high school look for a more refined one. You held yourself with new sense of confidence, the kind earnestness in your smile still evident, clearly having never left.

You moved after school, shedding the cold east coast snow for the sunny west coast beaches, which has clearly done wonders for you. It's almost like you brought the sun back with you, as you stand in the dimly lit bar nearly glowing as you beam and laugh at something his friend says. You brought the sun back to him.

He feels a pit begin to form in his stomach. A bottomless chasm that makes his stomach sink as he watches his friend make you laugh, a feeling he hasn't felt since high school. He thought he shed that feeling when he went to college, maturing. Maybe, he's starting to think, he just never met another person like you.

You turn and look at him, meeting his eyes as you smile brightly, laughing happily in almost disbelief at the fact that you stumbled on each other like this. He feels his heart catch in his chest as the blood rushes to his cheeks and for a split second he feels like he's back in maths class, being paired up together for a project for the first time.

The small thud next to him jolts him from his day dreaming as he looks at the bag on the desk next to him, tattered, torn messenger bag being held together by hope and tape.

"Hey," your sweet voice above him says as you sit down next to him, casting him a bright, smile, mouth full of metal. He stares for a second as you sit before he just nods, eying you cautiously as you grab your notebooks out.

"I hope you're good at maths," you say, barely noticing his lack of acknowledgement as you laugh to yourself, "cause I am not!"

"What?" he asks confused as he watches you turn and meet his gaze again, their wild hair falling in front of their face before you shake it out. He hasn't been paying any attention.

"Oh don't worry," you say as you begin copying work down from the board, "I'm not a total drop kick, you won't have to carry too hard."

"I'll be back," you say as you turn to look at your friend group standing on the other side of the room stealing glances over at you, "I should go tell my friends they can leave without me... I'm stealing you when I come back," you say over your shoulder to Schlatt as you walk away.

All he can do is nod as he stares at you as you walk off, feeling like a school kid again as his high school crush saunters their way back into his life.

"But anyway I heard that they actually ended up getting divorced!" Schlatt says as he sips his drink, laughing as he looks at you next to him in the booth, "serves the bitch right failing me on my ancient Egypt essay," he scoffs as he downs the last of his drink.

"Surely you're not still cut up on that?" you laugh as you lean back against the booth, looking over at him as you watch him go into a delightedly animated rant on how much your old ancient history teacher screwed him over.

It feels like no time has passed at all since you last saw each other, the two of you immediately fall into a familiar conversation as you reminisce and talk about life.

"I'm gonna scream," he says angrily as he pushes through the crowds, dragging you behind him through the halls as you head towards the doors leading out of the school towards the football fields.

You run along behind him as you weave through people, yelling apologies over your shoulder as you chase after your friend, "you gotta slow down I can't keep up."

He lets out a frustrated sigh, raking his hand through his hair as he pushes open the doors, holding them open for you to catch up with him. You pant as you run to catch up with him, bending over to put your hands on your knees to catch your breath. He laughs as he looks down at you, hands shoved in his pocket, "you're so unfit."

"We can't all have 10 meter strides," you grumble as you nudge him and straighten up, walking down the steps and onto the football fields, "you gonna tell me what's wrong?"

He digs around in his backpack, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper that he thrusts into your hands, "53," he says as he throws his hands up in the air in frustration. You uncrumple the paper and glance across the writing, 'Technological development in ancient Egypt.'

"Shiiiitt," you say as you grimace, "she's really got it out for you huh?"

"Don't I know it," he sighs, looking dejectedly down at the ground as he walks across the field. You can almost hear the doubt in his brain as he walks.

"What do you have next period?"

"PE?" he says as he looks down at you next to him as you walk.

"Wanna grab a slushy instead?" you ask, as you shove the failed assignment into your pocket, forgotten.

"You're an angel you know that?"

"You look beautiful," he says as he rests his arm on the booth behind your head, a dazed look in his eyes as he gazes down at you, "you were always beautiful" he mumbles softly, seemingly absent mindedly, "but I mean... wow."

You stare up at him, surprised at the gentle tone in his voice, something about the way he says it, and the way he's gazing down at you, his expression filled with nothing but love and innocence, it fills your chest with butterflies.

He notices your shock and brings his already empty glass up to his lips, taking a drink of nothing as he attempts to distract himself from what he just said. "I'm getting another" he grumbles as he realises how unnatural he looks with the empty glass, sliding out of the booth and making his way to the bar.

You can't help but admire him as he moves across the bar, he still holds himself the same way he did in high school, slouched, lumbering, folding in on himself, as if he's trying to make his 6'3 frame vanish from everyone's view.

He stops by his group of friends that are still congregating near the bar, chatting with them for a while as he orders another drink. He runs his hand through his hair as he nods at something someone says and you can't help the way your mouth goes dry.

He's filled out since you last saw him a few years ago. He's broader, softer, you can't help but imagine how nice it would feel to run your hands along his shoulders, slip them under his shirt.

You always thought he was a handsome guy, all the time you knew him. There's something about this new look he has that just does it for you. He looks rugged, more mature, a far cry from the lanky boy you once knew. His jeans and thrift shop button ups replaced with shorts and jackets that make him look put together, so much more like a man and less like a kid. You never even considered how handsome mutton chops could look on someone.

"You've gotta hold still if you wanna keep your ear," you laugh as you hold his head in place, falling apart in a fit of giggles as he shrieks when the cold water from the spray bottle hits the back of his neck.

"I don't think I'm talented enough to justify van goughing it," he says as he laughs along with you, taking a sip of his beer as his eyes stay glued to yours through the reflection in the mirror as he adjusts the towel around his shoulders.

"I reckon you're plenty talented," you hum thoughtfully as you run the comb through his hair, "hopefully not insane enough."

He laughs as he tilts his head down, a pleasant shiver running up his spine at the feeling of hand in his hair as you position his head where you want it, the sound of the scissors distracting him from the sound of his heart beat in his ears.

"Don't fuck my head up yeah?" he says as he finishes off his beer, tossing it in the bin along with the other bottles that were emptied before this dumb decision was made, "I'd look ugly if i had to shave it all."

"Don't be silly," you hum as your tongue pokes out your lips in concentration, "you'll always be good looking."

You see the red blush creep up the back of his neck as you trim his hair, pausing to look up and meet his eyes in the reflection. He's staring back at you, face red with a blush as he eyes dart across your face, yours staying glued to his. You both just stare, through the reflection, neither of you daring to move, neither of you brave enough to speak.

He walks back over and places a drink down in front of you, grumbling to himself about how expensive it was, "you're lucky I'm rich now doll cause damn they're trying to milk me dry with these cocktails you're drinking."

You just watch him as he sips his drink, his hand resting on the back of the booth as he crosses his foot over his leg and leans back. He looks so different now, better, you think as you admire him. He turns to face you, catching your eye with a puzzled expression as he catches you staring.

"What?" he asks as he places his drink down, chuckling nervously under your gaze.

You shake your head and shrug as you smile up at him, "you look really good Jay."

It's drizzling down by the time you get outside, the wet ground making your already wobbly legs slip slightly as you walk down the street. Schlatt chases after you, steading you with a firm hand around your waist when he catches up, "don't go running off now."

"I'm tired" you giggle drunkenly as you lean against him as you walk, "I'm gonna head home."

The rain patters around you, making both of you damp as you walk down the sidewalk, "hold on I'll get an uber," Schlatt says ignoring your groan of protest.

"No no no i can walk," you slur as you tilt your head up to look at the rain, "it's only like 40 minutes from here."

"40 minutes are you insane?" he says as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you back towards him when he thinks you're gonna try to wander off again, "I'm not letting you walk home in the rain let alone at night drunk."

You go to protest but he's already walking you under an awning as he pulls out his phone, "don't be stubborn."

You huff childishly as you rest your head against his arm, closing your eyes as you sigh happily at the calming feeling of his warmth against you. You wrap your hands around his arm, clinging to him as you wait for him to order a lift, smiling to yourself when he bends down awkwardly to rest his head against yours, relishing in the comforting weight of him against you.

"Can you stop being a dick for like two seconds?" you sigh as you sit down on his back patio step, burying your head in your hands, "aren't you meant to be helping me not making me feel worse?"

"I told you he was a dick from the start," he says as he stands in front of you, hands in his pockets as he looks down at you. He hates seeing you like this, so dejected. He hates himself even more for the excitement he had to push down when you told him you were broken up with.

"Making me feel so much better," you say, your voice shaking as you scrunch your eyes tight.

"I'm sorry I'm being a dick," he sighs as he sits down next to you, leaking back on the porch as he stretches his long legs out on the steps below him, "but you're better off." When you don't reply he continues, "you were too good for him. You're too good for anyone at school."

"If I'm so good why do they break up with me," you say as you finally look up and meet his eyes, his heart breaking as he watches the tears well up in your eyes.

"They just couldn't see a good thing when they had it," He pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arm around your waist as he lets you burry your head in his shoulder and cry. He rests his head on yours as he rubs your arm, trying to sooth you, trying to ignore the way his heart aches as you sob, "even when it was right in front of them."

The uber drive is quiet as you rest your head against the window, watching the bright city lights as you drive past, eyes struggling to focus on any one thing for very long.

Schlatt can't help but stare, it's all he's been able to do since you got in the uber. You look angelic, the artificial yellow of the street lights illuminating your features and making you glow like you were sent down from heaven.

This whole night has pulled up nostalgic memories of your relationship throughout the years, memories that, in your absence he would think back on fondly, missing the good old days. When things were easy.

Now, as you sit beside him, and he thinks back to the awkward kid he knew when he was in school, the friend he tried to ignore his feelings for, the beauty before him he's still in love with, he doesn't think your relationship has ever been easy.

He doesn't know what good deed he's being rewarded for, or what deal he made with the devil that led him back to you, but by god he's not letting his second chance slip by this time.

"I've missed you," he whispers as he moves closer to you, his breath shallow when he feels your hand move to rest on the seat next to him as you turn to face him, "so much."

You stare up at him, eyes big and shiny in the light from the city as you admire the man next to you. You shift your hand along the seat, gently slipping your palm over his, "I've missed you too."

Neither of you are sure who moves first, all you know is it feels like a dream. Your lips crash against each other in a passionate kiss as years of yearning and pining bubble to the surface.

Your lips meld together as your hands desperately grip onto each other. Yours wrap around his neck as you twist your body against the seatbelt to face him, throwing your legs over his thigh as he wraps his arms around your waist. He groans into your mouth as he desperately attempts to pull you closer, tongue gently parting your lips as you moan against his in return.

His tongue slides against yours, exploring your mouth as you move your lips against each other. His facial hair is rough against your face, a contrast to his soft lips dancing against yours.

You pull away to catch your breath and immediately nudge his head to the side, sucking gently as you kiss down his neck, biting at any skin you can touch in a desperate attempt to get closer to him.

"Come back to mine?" he breathes in a hot pant against your temple as he tucks his face in your neck, all you can do is nod.

[chiasaaa]

— mean it || part i

itoshi sae x f! reader

summary: loving someone as cruel as itoshi sae has to be the worst thing that ever happened to a hopeless romantic like you. years of pining over your childhood crush finally comes to an end, or does it?

warning: english is not my first language. apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors.

— when itoshi sae left japan, he not only left his family and a broken promise with his little brother. no, he left a person that carved a huge hole in his heart when he did so. who would have known that japan's pride and joy had fallen for your charm? certainly not you, because you have been vocal about your interest to the auburn-haired boy since you were six, and he never bothered reciprocating your feelings. whenever you ask him how he feels about you, he never answers and would very much rather deadpan instead. his one true love is football, and there is nothing that will stop him from reaching his dreams. he will do whatever it takes to become the greatest; shifting his dream from being the world's greatest striker to the world's greatest midfielder is proof of that dedication. he didn't care what he has to do to get there. sae will continue playing football even after his legs break.

it was something you admired greatly about him. it was natural for both of you to become friends when you've met, given that you share the same interest. at some point, you both also shared the same dream of becoming the world's best striker.

it seems like only one of you has reached such doors of opportunity as you were finally scouted by re al madrid's women's division as a striker—a centre forward to be specific. you were seventeen when you were scouted, and through the one year you've worked with re al, you have never once caught a glimpse of itoshi sae. even so, you didn't mind. you were there for your dream, not to catch up to sae. it was one of the things that he came to admire about you.

since he was a kid, he had always known about your childish feelings for him. at first, he thought it was annoying and considered cutting you off if you prove to be a hindrance. he tried to see just how far you'll go for him—to please him. however, when he realized that you don't use your feelings as a reason to excuse his bad behavior, he couldn't help but feel gravitated towards you. it began to scare him, how you suddenly have control over his actions and plagued his thoughts, so he left.

it wasn't until your match against wc barcha that your paths have decided to reunite you two. the championship game for nationals is today, and the same stadium was used for both men's and women's games. right after sae took a shower and freshened up, their team captain informed them that they will be watching the women's match. though, it wasn't needed. the fact that it's the championship game and their team is in the game for the first time in five years was enough for the reigning champions of the men's division to watch.

that was how he ended up sitting with the rest of his team at the very front of the stadium, eyes wide by the slightest inch at the sight of you standing proud within the starting lineup as the match began its opening ceremony.

you have certainly changed. your previous long raven hair now had streaks of auburn in them and seemed longer than ever. contrary to how you used to tie your hair in french braids, you now tie it securely in a single high ponytail. you have grown taller, though he still towers over your figure. your clean nails that you religiously took care of now had gel polish in them.

and most importantly, the hideous neon pink cleats you used to play with are now replaced by a powder blue shade—your favorite. he would be lying if he said it didn't bother him, knowing fully well that those neon pink cleats were a gift from him, but he fooled himself to think that your shoe size simply changed over time and you can't use them anymore.

still, why did you have to change the color if you once said that neon pink reminds you of him?

throughout the entire match, his eyes remained on you. the fact that you're playing in a completely different level now made him feel like he never knew who you were at all. you have exceeded most strikers already, even within the male's division. playing against guys your entire life proved advantageous in the pro league because it certainly shows when you're put up with the rest of the lukewarm idiots. they all seemed like headless chickens compared to you.

you were graceful, yet destructive. that addictive yet terrifying feeling began to creep in from behind again, and it made him feel nauseous. you're one terrifying being, with that way you're able to win over people's hearts so effortlessly.

"and re al's shooting star delivered the decisive goal! for the first time in five years, re al has reclaimed the throne as spain's champions!"

having both teams win called for a big celebration for the entire re al team. it didn't help sae when you were invited as the opening speaker for the party. throughout your speech, his eyes never left your figure. a sense of pride welled in his chest now that he sees you holding three golden trophies you've most definitely earned. it was proof of your hard work. you were madrid's shooting star—the one person they needed to finally win and snatch the crown back to represent spain in the international league.

it wasn't until the end of your speech that your eyes have finally spotted sae in the crowd, your breathe caught up in your throat the moment you realized it was him. leonardo luna even had to assist you down the stage, mainly due to your long evening gown, for you to finally snap back into reality.

he is here.

quite funny how you first had to win nationals just for you to get a glimpse of him. now that he really is in the same room as you, you don't know how to react anymore.

should you hug him? wait, he might not even remember you. maybe a hello would do and not scare him away. what if he doesn't remember you, though?

you've been thinking about it too much at the balcony with a glass of wine twirling between your fingers that you failed to notice how you accidentally manifested said man by your side.

"finally decided to show up, huh?"

it took you by surprise, feeling his gentle breath against your ear as he spoke. you jumped back in slight surprise, and it was thanks to his quick reflexes that he avoided an unwanted accident by catching the glass you just dropped. he hands it back to you with a slight chuckle, finding it amusing that behind the new you is the same clumsy girl he once played football with.

"sae," you utter in disbelief. "f-funny seeing you here."

"huh? you know i play for re al."

"really? couldn't have known! haha..."

then, it was awkwardly silent. you quietly sipped on your drink as you actively avoided his gaze, finding interest in the pitch black emptiness they call the sky.

"i was waiting for you." he finally said, breaking the silence like shattered glass. "i knew you could do it."

"it took awhile," you slowly relaxed into the conversation until you're comfortable enough to start talking about your journey—how you always had him in your thoughts whenever you train. he painfully reminded you of your silly antics as a child crushing over him. how you promised to him that you'll one day go down on one knee at the centre of the football stadium to ask for his hand in marriage.

you couldn't help but feel hopeful now that he's mentioned all of it in one night, finding that maybe itoshi sae isn't completely against the idea of being yours. what else could it mean, right? he was the first to approach and congratulate you for reaching this milestone. he was the first to strike up a conversation for the both of you to finally catch up. he was the first to stir the storytelling to the silly romances you both shared before.

the feeling only intensified when he asked you to ditch the party with him and go someplace instead, hiding your adventures into the mystery of the night.

maybe, just maybe, itoshi sae wants you just as much as you've been wanting him all these years.

[cawslew]

bonus anon rambling: to me, atsushi is kind of in the best position to give dazai something he's most likely to keep. i feel like dazai plays into what others perceive of him, but he fully believes that being "evil" or "bad" is something deeply embedded in him, which is why his time in the port mafia ends up making him miserably empty, even with what companionship he found there. regardless of his morality, i don't think he wants to be rejected by those he cares about, but the main people he cares for in the port mafia, he played a role in bringing them there. i feel like he can't reject atsushi because he pulled atsushi into a better place, going against what negative opinions he has of himself. dazai got a special soft spot for atsushi, specifically, because he sometimes seems like he's nervous about showing any morally dubious side of him to atsushi, so like how could be directly reject a gift without getting into his insecurities? it amuses me because the vibes i get from atsushi is that, while he is a bit simplistic, he isn't blind to the effort people put in for the greater good. i think he can distinguish those fine lines, especially because he notes the headmaster had a worse past than him and may have had good intentions during his time in the orphanage, but he doesn't really forgive the headmaster at all. to me, he believes dazai is good because dazai put in the effort to support him rather than a blind faith that dazai is good because he is his savior. canon dazai and atsushi's relationship just feels like one of those self-supporting ones because the people in it serve to bolster each other up. its kind of funny that i yapped this far given all this started because i just thought dazai probably has a lifeless room and he should decorate it.

I do love the yapping tho! Always love a good excuse to chat about the faves! But you’re definitely spot on when it comes to Dazai’s internal struggle and the self-image with Atsushi’s ability to see the effort and somewhat of a nuance in other people.

Dazai as a whole has problems with his own morality (which does make me love him for the amount of struggle he goes through). As you said, he does see himself as inherently evil, or you could even say broken. He loathes himself, and that fact always colors everything he does. Even when he DOES do good, he always brushes it off as calculating and manipulative rather than genuine care (He even helps the agency, yet when prompted about them being his friends, he is never able to admit it). Port Mafia shaped him that way in some way. It reinforced him to be like that, and even while he had people he obviously cared/cares about (Oda and Chuuya, for one), they were always shaped by the violence and systems he himself also perpetuated. So I do think he might feel like any love or care he receives might be BECAUSE of his utility or performance.

But then there’s Atsushi, who ABSOLUTELY doesn’t work that way, and Dazai knows it. Atsushi has this almost resilience and huge sense of justice that literally stagnated from his own suffering, abuse, and straight-up torture (Headmaster, when I get you—Headmaster, when I GET YOU—). Like you said, he doesn’t forgive the headmaster because he can see the harm he has done. He’s able to differentiate between someone who’s actively harmful and someone who’s putting in the work to do good. He’s seen the work and effort Dazai puts in, and he values it, even when Dazai doesn’t value it himself (though there’s also a fact that at the end of the day, in Atsushi’s mind, Dazai IS his savior. Someone who saved him from the streets. It’s a point I don’t see people often tackle when it comes to their relationship). Nevertheless, it’s not blind faith but a recognition for genuine care and an ultimate reason why Atsushi is actually suited to have an effect on Dazai as a whole. We all also know that Dazai puts on a facade, and he tries to seem better around Atsushi the most as he wants to keep Atsushi thinking of him as a better person than he is (Atsushi is obviously not blind; he knows WHAT Dazai used to be or what he’s doing, as in manipulative acts, etc. He might not know the scope, but he is well aware of Dazai not being a saint. Nonetheless, he thinks of him as a good person). So, ye, partially rejecting Atsushi’s gifts would feel like rejecting that trust, and Dazai could not bring himself to do so in the end, unless he would be able to actually weasel his way out by honey tongue (Is that phrase in ENG even? I will explain it then to make sure: it’s a phrase that refers to someone who speaks sweetly, persuasively, or in a flattering manner, usually in the context of charming or pleasing someone to the point of being manipulative or insincere. Basically, someone who uses smooth or sugary words to win others over). Rejecting that trust ultimately could mean on a personal level that it would unravel all the progress he’s made in the ADA, and THAT, RIGHT THERE, it would hit right at his insecurities. It’s so personal.

The self-supporting dynamic is such a great way to describe their relationship. Atsushi is someone Dazai can see as proof that his efforts to save people matter, while Dazai is someone Atsushi can look up to as well (Or at the very least someone who pushes him to do better. Not over the fact that after he stopped hallucinating the Headmaster, instead he hallucinates Dazai OR EVEN Akutagawa when he needs that push to do better...). Atsushi doesn’t idealize Dazai, but he appreciates him in a way that’s authentic, and that is probably why Dazai would hold onto every little thing Atsushi gives him at the end of the day.

Dazai’s lifeless, borderline ascetic room would just slowly be overtaken by those small thoughtful gifts from Atsushi. Like Atsushi giving him a tiny potted plant because "It’ll brighten the place up," and now Dazai has this ridiculous little plant on his desk, and he has to water it or feel guilty. Or even Atsushi giving him a picture frame with a group photo of the ADA, and now Dazai has an undeniable, physical proof of his connections sitting right there. And he can’t just put that stuff on any cabinet or any other place, they’re filled up by now with other stuff that Atsushi gave him. No matter where he looks, there’s always SOMETHING that was given to him.

Atsushi probably doesn’t even have any idea how deeply that affects Dazai. He was just trying to be nice and reciprocate, while Dazai is being forced to confront the fact that someone, in fact, CARES for him in a way that he couldn’t fully justify or deflect.

[romiswired]

Cara Noir vs. Effy (GCW Live in London 2025)

Yes, I have subjected myself to this.

Effy is the worst cancer that you shall never get rid of. He is what people think a "gay" wrestler is because he has not made any effort in being good and being a good representative of the LGBT+ community in wrestling. In the past I thought he was there for the vibes, you know, as an act rather than a wrestler, but time passed, and he even decided to try and become more than what people perceived him to be. He tried to be taken seriously, but he just couldn't escape his own perception of himself. He couldn't leave the thing that made him famous and infamous for that matter: he couldn't stop *being* Effy.

And what is Effy? Notice I've said "what" and not "who" because to me Effy is no longer an act for the vibes, but the representation of what pushes down LGBT+ wrestlers to a road of mediocrity. He is everything wrong with wrestling, in the sense he's not looking for people to appreciate wrestlers in the community for more than the fetishization he brings to the table.

There are so many great examples of LGBT+ wrestlers that are fantastic or at least try to put the effort. Even if I don't particularly like some of them, in a world where Effy tries to be the norm and the thing people think IS an LGBT+ wrestler, Mike Bailey and Nyla Rose stand out to me as great examples of the opposite. As a proud member of the community, I'm sick and tired of Effy being *our* main representative in the wrestling scene because he does not represent *us* at all but what people think we can give.

When you see Effy, you can't take him seriously because he's just *gay* and that's the joke. He's weird, he's quirky, he's wicked, and he's disgusting because THAT's what gay people should be in wrestling, right? They all shall be freaks of nature, but what Effy fails to understand or does not want to recognize is that WRESTLING is a sport for the freaks. The wrestlers are not normal individuals, so there's no necessity in highlighting your wickedness only because you're a gay man if the sport welcomes even more wicked concepts.

And to be honest, what is *wicked* about a gay man? He's just gay, that's it. We have passed the need for Effy in the wrestling world because he's just a reminder of what LGBT+ wrestlers shouldn't be. They shouldn't be compiled and compressed into one-trick ponies that people can't take seriously. They should strive for more.

The worst thing about Effy is that even when being criticized by members of the community he says he represents, he can't acknowledge the damage he's doing in terms of perception and how the common public views LGBT+ wrestlers. His head is so far to his ass, he stands in the middle of the ring and acts like a moral compass of what wrestling should be.

He proudly claims he's a bold man, but you shouldn't confuse boldness with straight out ego, and an undeserving one. Effy does not understand the reason we criticize him is not because we hate him, but because he should understand the position he's in and should look for ways to make people accept LGBT+ wrestlers for more than the jokes he pulls out.

Enter Cara Noir, a wrestler who even if you don't like him has made the effort to go onto something more special and unique in wrestling. His rivalry with Ilja Dragunov, while extremely melodramatic and silly, tried to be something else than what Effy does. Dragunov and Noir tried to tell you a love story by fighting and highlighting the performative art wrestling can be because of its variety.

Even if you don't stand for that perspective of wrestling, you can at least appreciate the attempt to strive for more, to live as something more than who you may think Noir is. In Noir also lied tragedy, sadness, melancholy. He was not just a Black Swan-inspired gimmick. He was not just a gimmick, or a joke. Noir existed as something else, a manifestation of what the community could strive to be in terms of how they approach wrestling.

Noir vs Dragunov even in his theatrical nature had a brutality and a sense of wickedness not brought by the idea they were kissing or showing signs of love, but because of the battles they went through. My issue with Effy lies in the idea he NEVER treats his identity as something that he should live with, but highlights it over and over and over and over to hide his most obvious mistakes.

Yes, he's gay, and yes, he's a maniac, but the idea of Effy highlights the gay part more than the maniac one, so you sit and think "oh well he's a maniac because he's gay, and gays are weeeeeeird". That's the joke, that's the punchline, there's nothing else hidden or brought by Effy that could awaken something more than cringe and disappointment, AND THAT'S WHERE THE ISSUES LIE.

If the main representative of the LGBT+ community in wrestling brings his contemporaries to a level of mediocrity so high, people constantly said he and his peers shouldn't be included in wrestling, where does that leave all the other members of the community? Why are we stuck doing 2018 Pride Parade bullshit when people of our community around the world continue to be harassed and killed? Why can't wrestling think of the LGBT+ community as more than an accessory? Why can't we have serious and heartfelt stories told by LGBT+ wrestlers?

Who said Monomoth can't be a bloody and beautiful underdog fighting for a world title? What is our end goal in wrestling if the focus of the community continues to be on someone like Effy that not only does not understand the damage he's doing, but surrounds himself around ass-kissers that will NEVER doubt anything he does? Is the LGBT+ community stuck and subject to continue doing jokes with our sexuality, or can we think and dream of a future where our own people stop receiving comments doubting the importance of LGBT+ representation in wrestling?

Because I don't know about you, but I'm tired of celebrating Effy, because I'm not proud and neither I feel represented.

[bamf-prongsminiprongs]

My take on the Marauders

I'm a Marauders era fan. MY take on what it should be

Sirius Black- is the tallest (Well over 6 foot), maybe one or two tattoos, black hair above his shoulders, doesn't simp over Remus and can't do anything without him, one of the smartest in the school, hell of a dark humor, dark looks, VERY popular, has many flaws, but is still the best, prefers James over anyone, one of the hottest in the school, reckless

James Potter- not as tall as over 6 foot, like 5,10 or 5,11 (Like Harry), one of the smartest in the school, popular, not constantly asking Lily out or assaulting her

Remus Lupin- quiet, coward, tries to keep to himself, good at quidditch, but doesn't play, isn't the school's Casanova, not the hottest guy, a bit below average or such, not over 6 foot, not the smartest in the school (Like average or just above), doesn't swear like a sailor, doesn't have anger issues, isn't an asshole, not a tattoo type of guy

Peter Pettigrew- most likely more popular than Remus, is included, not hated by his friends, not a bitch to his friends, doesn't act like his adult self

Lily Evans- isn't Hermione 2.0, she does swear occasionally, is able to beat someone's ass, rightfully hates Snape and the other Slytherins or blood supremacists, strong, smart (Not as much as James and Sirius though

Regulus Black- not a twink, isn't a crybaby who constantly cries about Sirius (They probably threaten each other and use death threats until Pandora and James are like 'Oi, wtf'), tall, not as much as Sirius, but probably James' height and maybe taller

Walburga Black- doesn't use unforgivable curses on her kids, doesn't physically abuse them. I hope you guys know that emotion abuse exists. DOES spoil her kids, puts expectations on them, but does praise them about being the Black heir, she's the reason they're so bloody hot

The others aren't so bad (But they still have bad characterization)

The Slytherins are not softies. It was the 70's, LGBT wasn't s respected, though there could be a few gay kisses and other stuff. They don't have so many tattoos that it covers their whole body, there's nothing wrong with that, it's just that there's pure bloods and they're still in Hogwarts. Sirius is TALL. He has dark humor, is capable of doing stuff himself, did NOT regret the prank.

The Prank- Sirius openly said (And to Remus) that Snape got what was coming to him for the prank, I bet there wasn't a whole angst thing where they ignored Sirius. James would NEVER do that. Remus was a coward; he probably forgave Sirius very easily (Though he couldn't trust him), they probably laughed about it in the dorms.

Wolfstar- It's one of the biggest ships. I don't ship it or see the appeal. Though I'm not going to hate or tell anyone to stop, but there's so much evidence that Remus and Peter were toxic to each other (I'm going to say it all in a different post). Sirius and Remus can live without each other perfectly fine. It was James that Sirius couldn't live without. Though you guys can ship whatever you want (But please no pro-ships), but also. ATYD is NOT canon. The writing is brilliant, it must've taken a god long time, it's great. BUT. The characterization is completely off, the girls are barely there, even Snape is wrong (Still hate his guts though).

Also, I know SOME fans are going to come to my house with pitch forks. THOSE FANS, you can come and suck my nonexistent DIC- (I'm a woman). ALSO, I'm not homophobic for saying stuff about gay not being as active in the marauder's era, there were probably SOME, but I'm lesbian, so I can't be homophobic. And to THOSE fans, I know it's not real, but I don't have a life, and I like being a part of the marauder's era, but it's the characterization

Also, everyone says "Canon? What's canon", but the only reason the marauders era exists is because of canon. It's like me making Sirius a blonde, and I go "Canon? Never heard of her"

[remyxjameson]

he could tell julian wasn't really listening, zoned out in his own world. he tried not to take it personally because he knew it wasn't; it was this place, the reason they were here. . . it was enough to distract even the best of them. remy wasn't stupid enough to think that they would all remember why they were friends in the first place and constantly stay in touch with each other after this, but he'd be lying to himself if he said he hadn't been holding out a little bit of hope that maybe this could be the thing that brought the two together again, closer again.

"you're going to freeze without your jacket. do you want to head back?" remy wasn't ready to, but he wasn't going to let julian freeze here just so he could stay warm because he was dumb enough to not bring a jacket out. he could always come out here later with his own jacket if he wanted to. "you're in a world of your own, hm? understandable. it's. . . a lot, being back here." if julian chose to read his book when they all got home, then that was fine by him; he assumed he would certainly never hear from him again after that, though. "full disclosure? it's not just the one book, but i won't hold it against you if you read one and not the rest of the series." he bumped his shoulder into julian's playfully, smiling up at him.

"yeah i just. . . i was scared of the social aspect of california, i guess. seems dumb now, seems like exposure therapy would've just been what i needed. maybe when we leave here, i'll look into it. always liked the idea of santa monica, palo alto, hell maybe even long beach. harper tried to get me to move once, said it would be good for me. maybe it's time i start actually listening." remy murmured, chewing on his lower lip as he looked back out to the lake.

he should have moved when harper suggested it, been close to her, been able to visit her or she visit him. he should have done it, and got the hell out of minnesota. "i just can't stay here anymore. oregon and minnesota have both officially made it onto my list of states to avoid, and maybe i can put myself out there more, like she wanted. hopefully before i turn thirty." that felt weird to say, because he still felt like that kid back in college, like time had stopped and he hadn't changed. but if time had stopped, harper would still be here.

"what do you think? think i'll survive cali?"

julian nodded solemnly, a silent acknowledgment at remy’s offer, even though he knew he wouldn’t take him up on it. the second he and ellie leave this place, he’ll forget about everyone here the same way that they’ll probably never cross his mind again. harper was gone; the last remaining thread holding their lives together had been snipped off. this weekend wasn’t just a goodbye for harper, but it was goodbye for everybody. goodbye, good riddance, yippee-ki-yay.

still, with what time they had left, julian appreciated seeing remy again and getting to talk to him, even briefly, even if they never speak again for the next few days. hell, he and ellie could leave once they get through the whole ceremony tomorrow, if there was even going to be one. he didn’t know how these things worked. were they meant to just dump harper’s remains into the water or do it gradually, by the fistful, pigeon-feeding style?

no, that was fucked up. that was a fucked up thing to think about his friend, his very good friend, his ex. 

julian took in a deep breath, head tilting slightly up towards the cloudless sky, his leg continuing to bounce restlessly as remy kept rambling. “uh-huh…” he muttered absent-mindedly when remy mentioned something about cigarettes and doordash and… paying him for doordash? he’d learned, in the few years that he’d known remy back in school, to filter out some of the things he said. the guy had this habit of either saying too little or saying too much. which was strange, for the latter, because he was usually so quiet around everybody else. julian was given to understand that this was because remy was comfortable with him in some capacity, however, it has been eight years and julian was a different person then than he was now. their relationship should have been different, comfort levels reverting to their original state—that is to say, politely detached with a reasonable amount of awkwardness. right? 

he glanced at remy again when he mentioned the possibility of being put off by his book, quirking a brow but thinking nothing more of it. he’d forgotten about that conversation he had with noah a few years ago, how he’d brought up the names of the characters, how closely they resembled julian’s and the author’s knowing that they did go to school together. he was curious to know what julian’s relationship with remy was. the implication was so ridiculous; he hadn’t thought about remy in literal years until harper had brought him and his book up. it didn’t occur to him now that that might’ve been what remy was referring to. again, he just didn’t think about those things. 

“you? california?” that had grabbed julian’s attention well enough, earning a small, amused smile from him. there were enough authors and aspiring screenwriters in california, did it really need one more? still, julian was curious: “well, why didn’t you?”

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

So with Clementine Book Two coming out in October, I decided to do another reread of Book One. Though, I'll be honest, the bigger reason for this reread was out of spite; I follow Tillie Walden on instagram, and while I don't go on there often, I usually check her page when I do so I can see any new artwork or Clementine updates. Her latest post is from one of her other graphic novels, and I guess I just... don't get it.

I don't understand why people are like this:

This is on a post that has nothing to do with the Clementine comics. As for ones that are about Clementine-

Those are just a handful from a few Clementine-related posts, but there's so much of this all over Tillie's posts and I don't understand.

What does this accomplish? Other than making you look like an asshole? Like... no one is impressed by this. No one is applauding you for repeatedly commenting "lol we didn't want a forced gay romance ew," which by the way? Repeating that in every single paragraph you comment? Tell me you're homophobic without saying you're homophobic, y'know?

There are legit criticisms to be had of Clementine Book One- The pacing is all over the place where it starts very slow and then goes into whiplash mode after Amos dies. Georgia as a villain is a weak point in the story. Clementine naming her leg after Kenny is a bit icky considering in canon, he physically and verbally abused a disabled person with a brace on his leg in S2. I don't think there was much thought behind that decision past "Hey, the fans like Kenny," and I think that's worth pointing out as "Hey... maybe don't?"

Some of the dialogue is a bit stilted, but some of it is actually pretty good. My personal favorite is when Clementine and Amos are fixing a roof-

Amos: Lord, this roof is... Clementine: ...fucked? Amos: SHH, don't say that! It's... troubled.

I'm sorry- that's funny! And it actually says a lot about who these characters are and the kind of friendship they have.

And yeah, Ricca is just okay. She's clearly the love interest, and I'm hoping we get more development of her character. And yes, the "baby" thing is still weird.

There's a lot about the art style that I'm not crazy about, specifically Clementine's face and expressions, and I hope to see an improvement in that for Book Two.

And then the obvious: Clementine leaving because she was unhappy and felt everyone thought she was a liability doesn't match up with the end of TFS.

I don't think it's mean to say that Tillie wasn't the best fit for this project, but that's on Skybound. They're the ones who reached out to her and hired her. I think Tillie's a great artist and her graphic novels have great queer, wlw representation in them. Just because she wasn't the perfect fit for Clementine that doesn't mean she's bad, it means that maybe she should've been considered for a different project.

And honestly...? Y'all, Book One isn't THAT bad. It's not great or anything, but the comics can't take the games away from you. If you want to say canon ends with the TFS, then that's where it ends. That's where it ends for me; these comics are more of a "what if" scenario than anything.

No one is forcing you to accept this as canon, and if you're so pathetically butt hurt over the existence of a comic that you feel like you have to go on Tillie's instagram, the artist who is only doing the job she's obligated to do, and comment shit like this on every. single. post-

Maybe, just maybe, you need to go outside. I'm serious.

This isn't the only comment about grooming on Tillie's posts, or that I've seen on reddit. Like... do you understand what grooming actually is and how serious it is? Or are you just using it as a buzzword that you know is bad and triggering as a means of insult and convincing others that she's bad, too?

Also, I don't think you really understand how creativity and writing work. Maybe it's just me, though I doubt it, but when I create characters or write already established characters in my fanfiction, they all have a piece of me that's apart of them. My life experiences and who I am as a person influences everything I write, and that bleeds into the characters, for better or worse.

What, you think Louis having a random pillow collecting problem was something I just pulled out of my ass? No, it's because I have a pillow collecting problem! Do you know why I've always had a such a hard time writing for Violet? It's because I see a lot of myself in her and that scares me and I'd rather just not unpack all of that, okay?

I mean, how many times on this hellsite have you come across someone saying, "lol my otp is just Person A is my type and Person B is the one I project onto" and it has thousands of notes because, on some level, we all get it.

Tillie has talked about Ricca before and like most creative people, she's drawn from her own life to create her characters. Ricca isn't some self-insert character just because they both wear glasses, I'm-

You are just being an asshole! I just- I'm getting pissed off because this shouldn't even be a thing. WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS? WHO HURT ALL OF YOU?

I love Clementine, too! She's important to me! I have replayed TWDG more times than I can count! I was pissed about the comics in the beginning! You can go back on my blog and I probably said stupid shit, too!

But Clementine isn't real. She's a fictional video game character. She isn't going to reward your bullying or white-knighting because she doesn't exist. You're not doing this because you're a "true fan" that loves Clementine. Honestly, if you were a true fan, you would know that if Clementine was real, she would find you and this behavior disgusting. Tillie Walden is a real person and I don't give a flying fuck if you hate her work. By all means, hate the comic! Criticize the comic and Skybound for continuing the series, but leave Tillie out of it.

And I think the part that sucks the most is it doesn't matter what I say, you can't rationalize with irrational people intent on being assholes so they're not going to stop.

I guess what I'm trying to show with all of this is when Book Two comes out, and y'all start reading it and making posts... please don't be these people.

Whatever you may feel about Clementine Book Two, try to remember that Tillie Walden is a real person and she's just doing the job that Skybound hired her for. Tillie's an artist just trying to live her life in Vermont with her wife and their cats, and she's gotta deal with all of these people harassing her posts. She can't even post something non-Clementine related without a bunch of #notmyclementine shit in the comments.

I don't even know what else to say... Uhm, I guess if anyone from those screenshots sees this, then... I don't feel that bad about calling you an asshole. We all learned in kindergarten to treat others the way we want to be treated, but maybe you were sick that day, I don't know. Go outside. Get your life together. We have a short time on this planet and maybe you should try to actually accomplish something while you're here. Eat a kitkat or something👍

[unhonestlymirror]

Gojo Satoru is an awesome person, and people clearly don't value him enough

[nonuggetshere]

So they didn't become void, they were "born" that way

In FaaF there are different species and kinds of higher beings (still a MASSIVE work in progress tbh, trying to figure out how these cunts work, but for now I'm thinking they're extremely rare species with far greater abilities and lifespans than a normal bug's that have a chance to ascend to true godhood (but even if they don't ascend that doesn't stop mortals from worshipping them as they're already very god-like from a normal bug's perspective)), "pale beings" being one of these kinds/mutations.

Well, there was also a different kind once, "void beings", but they all went extinct a very long time ago by the beginning of the story. Shade Lord was one, and last, of them and it lost its life in a fight with Radiance - the same fight that drove her to make her permanent residence in the dream realm out of her new-found fear of death (which backfired spectacularly ngl). Its body was buried in the Abyss, where it broke apart and decayed, or decayed as much as a non-living thing can, before it was unearthed many ages later by the pale wyrm.

Not much is known about them since they've been gone for so long, and the vessels are the only void beings remaining, but since they're not "pure" void beings it'd be foolish of anyone to assume that the ancient extinct species behaved the same way as these ones do. But they were generally greatly feared thanks to the void's freaky, dangerous properties, which partly lead to their extinction as some of the other higher beings purposefully attacked and killed them whenever they stumbled across one out of fear. Now the only thing remaining of them are the rare void sources, where their former bodies still refuse to fully die.

Shade Lord does get accidentally resurrected in the story bc of all the tomfoolery happening with its body before almost immediately getting killed again by Ghost who inherits its title and reign. Don't ask me how that works, haven't figured that out yet. Magic god shit or something idk LMAO

[earlgreytea68]

Okay. It's time for an AI rant.

My nephew is 13 years old. Whenever he writes a paper for school, I check it over and fix all of his mistakes for him. He said to me, "Maybe I'll proofread your paper for you in exchange," meaning one of the scholarly articles I write for work. I said, "Cool," and gave him the file. And he said, "Well, this is full of errors! See, you always say you have a lot to correct on my stuff, and look at all the stuff you got wrong!" And I said, surprised, "What? Where?" Because I'm sure there are typos in the draft I sent him, but not, like, that many.

And then he pointed to the screen and said, "Look at all the blue and red lines you have."

And I said, "Yeah, but those are wrong. Like, those are blue and red lines I'm ignoring because the computer is wrong." And then I paused and added, "You know you can't proofread a paper by just looking at the red and blue lines, right?" And he gave me the blankest look, because that clearly is EXACTLY what he thinks. And it became even clearer suddenly why, whenever I correct something on his paper, his immediate reaction is, "It didn't have a blue or red line."

There's a very good reason for that: THAT'S BECAUSE THE COMPUTER ISN'T SMART ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT IT WAS WRONG.

I am so tired of being sold the idea that computers are better than humans and so we should just outsource everything to them, which is clearly the lesson my nephew is absorbing in U.S. middle school. COMPUTERS ARE NOT BETTER THAN HUMANS. Like, maybe they are better at humans at crawling through rubble to find people trapped inside. They are also better at preserving things in a searchable format. Things like that. Very limited circumstances.

I don't want to sound alarmist but everything I hear about people using generative AI freaks me out. It's not just that I'm freaked out by people being like, "I use it to write novels!" (Although I don't see how they do, I have tried to have it write fiction for me and the output was truly terrible.) But I recognize my bias around creative writing and so no one needs to credit my views on artificial writing. But! Other things are alarming, too! "I use it to brainstorm x, y, or z." But...why? Why not just...use your own brain...to...brain...storm? The computer doesn't even have a brain to brainstorm with! And you might be like, "But it comes up with things that my brain would never think of!" So would other people! You could also brainstorm with other people! Or even through Google to see what other people have thought before you (not AI). Please don't belittle the wonder of thinking.

I just feel like the marketing around generative AI boils down to "Wouldn't it be easier not to use your own brain to think about things?" Everyone. No. It would not be. Please just trust me on this. I'm not just an old person who is out of touch with technology or something. I promise. USE YOUR BRAINS. IT WILL BE OKAY.

[inazuma-fulgur]

I will also defend trans men here, I see vitriol about both just by different people.

Men, and women keeping proximity to men in media/political circles, target trans women for being predators and for mutilating themselves

Same for trans men actually, just by women and men keeping a proximity to those women. This one is a little weird though, because trans men post transition are predators and trans men pre transition are always victims who are tricked into mutilating themselves.

This isn't just on tv, this is stuff my neighbors and coworkers tell me. Austensibly, in my experience, cis women are negative towards trans men and largely neutral or positive towards trans women, whereass cis men are negative towards both

Non binary people don't even exist because they don't touch on the framework people use to understand themselves, so they can just be denied and don't require any arguments beyond "lmao silly"

[bladeofthestars]

.

[writersdrug]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:

In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."

Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.

Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.

Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.

Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.

Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.

Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.

Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.