#while actually being wrong in every meaningful way

[aturinfortheworse]

being one of those kids who's like "actually it's octopi" is a slippery fucken slope because now i am an adult who hears about cephalopods with some frequency and is still, nonetheless, every single time surprised that the speaker did not say "octopodes"

[giantkillerjack]

Uh-oh! You are like, SOOO awkward!!

You're so awkward that it is occasionally mildly uncomfortable for people!

You're so awkward that sometimes people are confused by you and then there are awkward silences!

You're so awkward ...... that ultimately no one is harmed!!

Oh damn!!! What a vile crime you have committed! What an unforgivable thing it is to make a fellow human briefly confused!

Why, if *I* were ever briefly confused and kind of uncomfortable as a result, I'd be devastated.... by the absolute net zero change in my happiness and health! - From which I might never recover!! Yes indeed! No punishment can ever be enough for you!!

So you better absolutely hate yourself for it.

Better be SO MEAN to yourself about every single missed social cue so you don't forget your horrible crime! Meaner than you'd ever dream of being to someone else for the same thing! This is YOUR responsibility!

You need to show the world that you KNOW you are bad by punishing yourself constantly! After all, think of all the people who BENEFIT from you punishing yourself! - No, really! Think about it! Think about who benefits from your pain.

Think of alllllll the definitely-good people that your definitely-necessary self-torment definitely helps! I mean, you can't just cut off their definitely-life-sustaining supply of your suffering, right?? Sure, everyone else has a breaking point, but you're probably the only person in human history who doesn't, right? Best not to question it probably. Sure, it's a symptom that billions of people with trauma have had, but who knows? You could be a one-in-seven-billion exception. Anything's possible!

Instead, better just accept that idea that bullies carry like guns in holsters - the idea that people who have trouble with social cues deserve to suffer. Better carry on the burden they placed on you until you drop. Aid the cause of the callous by enforcing shame and suffering upon yourself extra hard; try your best to do their work for them. They're very busy.

Better not recognize that you need patience and kindness to heal from your trauma. Better not find out that it was trauma rather than personal weakness filling your head with self-hating thoughts. Better not find out it wasn't your fault.

Better not find out that awkwardness is not inherently harmful or unkind, and, in fact, the people who act like it is *are the ones enacting harm and being cruel.*

Better not get righteously angry when you realize just how much unnecessary damage this has done to you. After all, if you get mad, you might realize you deserve better. You might even feel brave enough to DEMAND better! You might build boundaries that keep you safe! You might make other people think they deserve to feel safe too! And we obviously can't be having that, so...

Better not show yourself even a little kindness a little bit at a time.

Better not make a habit out of it after all that practice.

Better not get confident.

Especially if you can't first wipe out every trace of awkward. (And you probably never will. Because people who experience absolute social certainty at all times tend to be insufferable assholes that enforce the status quo. And you just don't have the stock portfolio for that.)

Better not be confident and awkward because then you might confuse and delight people

- you might accidentally end up making other people feel less shame for their social difficulties

- you might make isolated, traumatized, and shy people feel like they deserve to be included in social situations

- you might even make them feel they can be themselves around you

- you might start loving the effect you have on a room

- you might enjoy conversations more

- you might forgive yourself and bounce back from shame more easily and frequently

- you might come to enjoy some of those moments of harmless confusion you cause because NOBODY expects the Confident Awkward, and that can genuinely be an advantage in social situations

- you might stop apologizing so much.

- you might find that socializing is like a video game: it requires practice but also a safe space for it to be fun and positive.

Or if you can't become assertive and confident, better not remain awkward and shy and quiet, and then love and forgive yourself anyway!

Why, it would be carnage!!

In either scenario, you run the risk of finding out that it's not your fault that safe spaces full of kind people can be really hard to find, create, and nurture. You could end up building a skillset that helps you do those things if you're not careful!

If you start giving yourself even the tiniest amount of grace at a time, you will find that you've accessed a gateway drug with extreme long-term side effects:

- You might realize that it was never your fault that it took so long to like yourself.

- You might realize that you were always worth talking to, even when you didn't like yourself and communication felt impossibly difficult.

- You might realize that you'll still be worth talking to even if communication becomes harder as you age and/or experience disability.

- You might come to know that you deserve to be heard even on bad days when words come slow and blurry.

You might discover that you were always deserving of kindness, first and foremost from yourself.

So. As you can see, it's FAR too much of a risk to start granting your awkward self free pardons for your many heinous and harmless crimes. Better to just leave it there.

[tainbocuailnge]

this is a final fantasy fourteen dawntrail post. it speaks incredibly for the desperation of the people of alexandria in its decline that they both couldn't bear to remember the dead and couldn't bear the thought of the dead no longer being remembered, and thus created this contradictory system where the dead are only remembered by something other than those to whom that memory is meaningful. so crushed by collective trauma and grief that they directed every effort to eradicating awareness of mortality altogether and it's resulted in a paradise where everyone is incredibly blasé about dying because the dead live forever in the cloud until they run out of spare souls and are completely paralyzed with fear of their own mortality.

but even more than desperation it speaks of a naive sincerity that the scientists and officials behind the project just actually genuinely built and maintained this giant memory database to preserve the deceased at increasingly large cost, rather than just lie that they totally did that to a populace who won't remember those deceased anyway. they're not harvesting souls to power the war effort while using a recreation of the beloved princess as puppet figurehead, they completely sincerely recreate the dead from their memories and simulate them living happily ever after, started by a sincere desire to not lose their beloved princess. living memory is an eternal theme park that actively goes out of its way to facilitate letting people who remember each other fondly meet again. it's the manifestation of a childish wish for a world where there are no partings, only reunions. it's a theme park rather than an actual city with a dmv and shit like amaurot was precisely Because it's a childish dream. it's fundamentally an artificial experience, but one which sole motive is to bring joy and relief from everyday sadness.

and sphene is the first and most prominent victim of that naive sincerity. she's the mascot of this theme park, and because she's the mascot in charge of providing this artificial but kind experience she can't ever break character. the people of alexandria couldn't bear the thought of her being forgotten, so they created a memory of her that would last forever, but they also couldn't bear to actually remember sphene, so she's a mascot instead of a person. she loves her people, and they love her, but none of them can possibly understand the weight that love puts on her shoulders. the sphene we meet is fundamentally trapped by other people's deeply limited understanding of her.

it's so so so important to her character that she's a small dainty feminine woman that exists to take care of everyone emotionally and be loved by them for being so nice and sweet and loving, and when she tries to arrange some kind of secure future she ends up with an abusive husband who ignores her wants and needs for his own ambitions, and she is fundamentally unable to act outside this highly gendered framework. sphene reads like the commonplace tragedy of the straight woman to me to the point where making her in lesbians with wuk lamat is like. I can certainly understand wanting to grant sphene the sense of liberation and comfort that many lesbians themselves feel at the realisation that they don't have to marry men, so far be it from me to say anyone is wrong to do so. but it's kinda ignoring part of what her deal is for the sake of that comfort I think.

not that lesbians have never ended up in abusive marriages with men but sphene very explicitly does not have other options, part of the tragedy is that you fundamentally cannot actually grant her that liberation and comfort. cahciua explicitly says there's no way to know what the real living sphene would have done because this sphene is a recreated memory of the beloved princess whose job is to sustain living memory. their darling sphene who will always listen to all their troubles and is always nice to them and will always take care of them. she's literally trapped by the role society assigned her, and that role is essentially to be their tradwife mother. the living sphene may have been into women, but the people who recorded her to create the sphene we meet never even considered the option.

do you guys know that tweet thread where OP describes going to a funeral for a woman they didn't know who'd died young of a heart attack, and the husband spent most of the eulogy talking about himself instead of his recently deceased wife, and by the end of the ceremony OP had learned nothing at all about what this woman was like beyond being a wife and mother? everyone fondly remembers the princess and queen of alexandria, but nobody remembers sphene. and just like all OP could still do for this woman was go to her casket and acknowledge that she too had been a full person in her own right before the stress of swallowing everything about herself killed her, all wuk lamat can really still do for sphene is think of her as the full person she must have been.

we're not told anything about what sphene was like as a leader, what her policies were, how she actually did her work, her vision for the future of her country before she died and was reconstructed. they only tell us everyone loved her so dearly because she was so kind to them. we're shown her dying moments and it's her using her airship to shield a civilian, so we can assume her love for her people was indeed true. but none of sphene's history that we're shown and nothing of how otis (who knew the living sphene) talks about her tells us anything about what she was like outside her role as beloved princess. her memories from after her "revival" are dissonant and corrupted and possibly not even real, and her policy of preserving living memory no matter what is a wish implanted in her by the people who reconstructed her. we don't even get to see what she looked like when alive. the only sphene the people know is the theme park mascot of living memory.

cahciua was exactly as erenville knew her and was true enough to herself to be able to turn against the system, so we're not given reason to believe any of the endless were tampered with. but sphene was already dead by the time they even tried to figure out how to preserve her memory, her actual soul and memories definitely long gone by the time the technology worked. we're explicitly told that nobody in everkeep really cared who or what sphene was as long as she adequately fulfilled this role of loving them all so much. she can't even tell you her favourite food, none of the people who labored so intensely and sincerely to bring her back bothered to write down even her most basic personal preferences when they reconstructed her. she has to deflect the question with "when I think of the people who make the food I can't pick just one" because the only preference she's allowed is loving all her people equally. she's completely thrown off that wuk lamat would even ask.

and it's precisely because she is remembered only as this kind loving woman who gave everything for her people that she is weak and powerless to actually do whatever it takes to keep them safe. she does not have the freedom to assert herself, let alone to be cruel or violent or take extreme actions. society does not give her that freedom, because she is a small dainty woman and (therefore) the only role allowed to her is to be their tradwife mother. so while her desire to protect her people is as real and true as it can be part of her plan to lobotomise herself in order to become someone capable of violence and cruelty also reads to me as that specific female frustration of wanting to destroy the sweet babygirl image of yourself by doing something extreme. like britney spears shaving her head. but in sphene's case destroying the babygirl image amounts to destroying herself completely, because the babygirl image of her is all that comprises her. and so when all is said and done the only fragment of sphene that is restored and lingers just a bit longer after that image is destroyed is the sphene that wuk lamat sincerely wanted to get to know.

[klausysworld]

Hey.. Been having a rough few days mentally.. Is it possible you could write an angst/fluff fic about Klaus saving the reader from death when she tries to unalive herself..? Pills being her poison of choice.. Klaus becoming terrified he lost the one thing that truly made his life meaningful again. He uses his blood to bring her back at just the brink of time. When she's conscious Klaus holds her tightly in relief and its super fluffy at the end..?

(Triggering content‼️)

A Moment of Comfort

Klaus had taken an interest in Y/n from day one.

She was a quiet person in a loud town and it interested him.

Everyone was self absorbed, nosey, invasive and involved but she just didn't seem to care.

At first he thought she might be the sarcastic type, the one that would give little quips that made up for her mostly observant side but she just didn't care. Not about anything. He thought that would bore him but he wanted to know why. He wanted to know what she wanted, what she needed to pull some care and some love, some happiness from within her.

Klaus had watched her a little, wanting to learn about her, to know her. However she wasn't someone you could know from the outside, he needed to understand her mind, her thoughts and her feelings to ever have any idea about who she really was.

Which was how he ended up sat beside her in the grill, tracing little patterns on her arm with his forefinger and chatting her ear off for the entirety of the afternoon. Eventually he had pulled a laugh from her and it made his whole face light up to see the smile that lingered on her delicate face.

She ended up with that same slightly detached look in her eyes when she pulled her hands away and left to walk home. Klaus followed her to keep her safe before going to his own house, wondering about her.

He learnt quickly that there was something mildly wrong. Maybe something sad had happened or maybe it was just the way she had become. There wasn't something wrong per say but there was something about her that made him worry for her. He wanted her to feel safe and secure but it was clear that she didn't always have that. Klaus wanted to be her net to catch her.

But first, he needed her to like him. Just a little bit.

She started to aswell.

She liked talking to him, listening to him. He grounded her when she got lost. After a while he would invite her over to his house and she would get to appreciate the Mikaelson manor. It was void and peaceful, she liked that about his home.

Klaus had bought a new chair just for her, it was round in shape so that she could curl up like he knew she wanted to. It was a protective position, defensive and he would often wonder why she felt so scared sometimes or perhaps just unstable?

He wasn't sure how to offer the security that he had to offer. However he knew that to really protect her, he needed her trust. Their understanding needed to be mutual to build a relationship of sorts. She had to help him help her.

But Y/n didn't really know how to do that. Who does?

Klaus tried though. He would offer her affection and someone to rely on from time to time. He would hold her when he could feel that she wanted that. Sometimes she would be more hesitant but after a little while she got used to his touch and enjoyed being wrapped in his strength, it made her feel shielded from the evil of the world.

Klaus would play with her hair until her eyes got heavy and sleep overtook her sweet mind. Often whens she slept he would just hold her tight and keep her warm, very occasionally he would actually put her into his bed; usually if it was already night or if he knew she was particularly exhausted. Every now and then her eyes would be particularly tired, sometimes he wondered if she was asleep with her eyes still open. He would see her expression go blank and he would try to talk to her, bring her back but every now and then he would accept that she wasn't in with the conversation and he would try to supply a source of comfort.

She was a good girl. Klaus knew that, she was sweet and loving but she reserved it for small moments and for certain people. Klaus became one of those people.

He cared for her, he even started to love her.

She was what he looked forward to when he got home. Whether he got to physically see her (which he did usually) or if it were just a phone call, even a text conversation. Y/n was the highlight of each day and he was hers.

Each week had gotten a little easier since he had started talking to her. He wanted to see her whether she was talkative or not, happy or not. Klaus was always there for her and she loved that, she learnt to love his love and she tried to love him but she wasn't sure that she. could allow herself to.

She was troubled, some would say. Y/n had been in a pattern of lows that would absorb her life more often then she anyone could handle.

It wasn't the first time she had spiralled. Collecting pills had become a habit years ago. She would save them up, had to be enough to actually kill her, she would always worry that she needed more to really cut it.

To be honest, Klaus hadn't even crossed her mind when she twisted the cap off of the once forgotten bottle of tasteless wine that had collected its own coat of dust.

Nothing passed her thoughts, not really. She just knew what she had to do, she had thought about it for too long. The consequences wouldn't be hers, she wouldn't be suffering. That was how she had grown to look at it.

It was only after she had swallowed an uncountable amount of pills that she considered Klaus's reaction. Surely it couldn't affect him that much though, they had only known each other a few months and he was a busy man. He would be able to distract himself after a couple days. He had a family that would support him. He didn't need her.

But he did.

Klaus had been calling her on and off for hours, the first couple times she didn't pick up he thought she might've bene asleep but the fear that something deeper was wrong started to sink in.

He was in his car and at her house after the seventh missed call and he knew something was wrong.

The door was broken in within seconds and he was making his way inside, calling for her.

"Y/n? Love?" He yelled, brows furrowed as he pushed through the rooms to find her room.

Everything stopped moving when he saw her.

On the floor, leant against the side of her bed unconscious, wine spilt and staining the carpet but that didn't concern him. It was the barely beating heart in her chest and the few pills that she must've been too out of it to take.

"No no no no no" He whispered, his legs going weak causing him to crawl toward her, pulling her to him with urgency. "Oh love, it's okay" He uttered, tears welling in his eyes and his throat closing. "It's okay, I got you"

His hands lifted her head but she couldn't hold it up, her eyes wouldn't open and she couldn't breathe. He couldn't get her to breathe.

He bit into his wrist, forcing it to her mouth and tried to have his blood drip down into her system.

"Come on, come on, come on" He begged, cupping her jaw and kissing her forehead.

"Yes" He uttered when she groaned and coughed, spluttering a burst of his blood out. She gagged and he held her up, rubbing the top of her back.

She went heavy in his hold but she was alive and that's all that mattered so he just kept holding onto her. Burying his face into her hair and whispering his prayers.

"It's okay sweetheart, it's alright I have you"

His eyes stung as he clung onto her. He could see her vision returning and cupped her face gently but firmly in his hands.

"Look at me, love." he murmured, hidden desperation behind each word as she senses came to and she glanced around confused. For a split second she wasn't sure what had happened before the memory flooded in and she let out an exhausted cry. She closed her eyes and let her body stay limp, head against his shoulder whilst she breathed shallowly.

Faintly she could hear Klaus's begging whispers, she could feel his soft touch and smell his rich scent. It brought a small sense of comfort but did not stop the silent tears from slipping down the cheeks that his hands held. The press of his lips lingered for a moment on her forehead before she felt his arm slip under her knees and lift her body.

He held her to him whilst his spare hand hurriedly grabbed whatever necessities he could spot. A blanket was tucked against her and to his arm so she was shielded from the wind when they sped outside and through the streets of New Orleans. Within a moments thought they were within the warmth of the abattoir and Klaus's cologne swallowed her. She murmured uneasily as he lay her in his bed and wrapped both the sheets and himself around her, leaving her no opportunity to ever get away from him. Not that she had any desire to pull away from his hold in that moment. Waking up from what was supposed to be her death was only the slightest bit manageable with Klaus at her side.

Silently she thought about apologising but she wasn't sure it would be truthful so she remained quiet as he stroke her hair and pepper the tiniest of kisses across her face as though they were sun-kissed freckles.

"You cannot leave me like this" He whispered, his voice cracking in a way that hurt her heart and made her eyes squeeze shut. She worried he would be angry or upset with her but when his arms held her tighter and his forehead pressed to hers, and he muttered to her "I promise I will do all that I can to make you feel whatever comfort you need so long as you never attempt to leave me again", she didn't feel pressure or weight.

She content in a strange way, she felt a slight feeling of peace overcome her mind for a moment as she put as much trust as she could in his hands.

Klaus would never break that trust, he would never take away her comfort, he would never leave her alone again.

[der7py]

Yandere Radio host x reader

Victor Rodriguez was the most popular radio host there was to date! He had late night talks shows, was always on the evening and morning radio, and was super charismatic! Only problem? He didn't have a co-star. But you'd make a lovely co-star.

Warnings: Mature language, addresses being leaked (only to yandere), stalking, car tampering, hero complex, mentions of abusive households

You swear that Victor was always on the air! Day and night, on every station. You could've sworn nobody listened to radio anymore! But apparently, with this new hotshot, everybody did now.

It's not that you disliked the man. He didn't do anything wrong. Surprisingly, unlike other radio hosts, he wasn't that boastful. But you were just sick of hearing him all the damn time.

Eventually, you tuned in (your friends wanted you to listen to him for once), and you made the mistake of accidentally calling in.

"Hello, this is Victor Rodriguez speaking! Who do I have the pleasure of talking to?" Oh wow, he answered the radio like it was just a normal contact in his phone!

You two had a surprising, really meaningful conversation! He didn't talk over you, poke fun at you for his listeners, and actually remembered things about you in the short time you talked.

You actually emailed him (he has a work email), and he responded back! You two emailed for a bit before exchanging numbers since you had made plans to hang out with him!

_______________________

Shit! You were running late! Your car just wouldn't start, and now you don't even know if he's still there. But before you could call a mechanic, a black car pulled into your driveway, and a very concerned Victor immediately jumped out of his car. "Are you okay? You didn't show up for a while, and I was worried if you got into an accident!" You felt your face heat up and start to turn pink. No man had ever done what he did. Usually, they just got impatient and left at the first minute. But Victor... he actually went looking for you. To make sure you were safe.

"Yeah sorry, my car just won't fucking start." You explained, pointing at your car which was a pretty old model. Victor cocked his head, peering into the car, before looking back at you. "You got tools so we can pop the hood up? Maybe it's the engine." What happened next you had no control over. It was magic even. You opened the hood, grabbed a toolbox out of your garage, and handed it to him. In the next 30 minutes, he had fixed whatever problem your car had.

Victor turned back to look at you with a goofy smile, and you swore your heart was moving a mile too fast. "All done! But the ice cream parlor is probably closing by now. Do you wanna just hang out here?" He asked, and you nodded your head immediately. It was surprisingly a really nice day with him! You both had a cookout, lounged in the sun, and even had a water balloon fight. You were having so much fun, you let one thing slip your mind.

How the hell did he know where you lived.

_______________________

Okay, so maybe he has every caller's address show to him and only him so he can stay safe. It's not his fault! He didn't know if his step-dad was still looking for him.

After he ran away from his abusive household (promising his mother and little siblings, he'd come back and save them from his step-dad's wrath), he immediately got picked up from a small radio station who needed a new radio host after the last one quit.

Clearly, he was better than what he expected because now he had worked his way up to the top radio station and was on nearly every channel!

So when you called in, he just expected a regular old caller, like always. But you... you were different. You actually talked to him. You made him feel alive in a way he didn't know was possible.

So he may have copied your address down just in case he needed to give you a surprise visit, but hey, who's really paying attention? Not him, and apparently not you either cause you did not have a care in the world when he showed up at your house.

You didn't even know that your car was perfectly fine the night before. But it's okay! Because he got to come to the rescue when your car wouldn't start! Even if he was the one who fucked up your engine so he could play hero.

But it's fine! Cause you didn't care, and let him play the hero. You let him be your savior! And that was perfect for him. You were perfect.

Just let him keep playing the hero. You need a hero in this world with someone as perfect as you. Just keep tuning in, and let him save you.

[iz-star]

Some thoughts about Zayne in "Adventure above clouds" event:

Like I've explained here, I've been having a bad feeling about Zayne's fate in the next main story updates, and after finishing Zayne's route in "Adventure above clouds" my feelings of uncertainty are just increasing.

So, I'm going to write down some thoughts I had while playing his route, especially about him wearing Dawnbreaker's variant outfit "Shadowfall dawn", which might be a bit interesting for some.

Disclaimer: I would like to pride myself as a Zayne connossieur but that's actually quite far away from reality. I'm a Zayne main and I devour every piece of info that there is about him, however my interpretations and opinions are my own and can be wrong. I'm someone that sometimes tends to overanalyze so, it's up to you if you agree or no with my takes! I'm also always open to be corrected ❤️

Let's get strated with by saying that in this event, Zayne was undoubtedly and utterly perfect. He's honestly all what he's always been: Sweet, patient, cute, smart, funny, gentle, caring and a lot of other things, the only difference here is that he's more prone to show his affections openly and straightforward which only showcases his development as character. It's like he finally feels at ease by expressing himself, especially around MC. When I say he was perfect, I'm not talking at how lovely he was (he's always been lovely anyway) but more like, he's natural, he feels less stiff, totally happy with MC and himself, smiling most part of the time and showing his love even through words, to the point MC says this:

Since Snowy Serenity he's been more direct at expressing his intimate thoughts towards MC. For example, in previous cards he would always refer to her as "someone" and even refer to him in third person: "Someone thinks it's special treatment" [Drunken Intimacy] "He can't ignore you even if he wants to" [Tranquil Heart] "Recently, a certain someone ocupies my mind. Whether I'm walking, eating or sleeping, I keep picturing myself with her" [Heartstring healer] to mention a few.

It's in Snowy Serenity that we have a clear change in his way of expressing his feelings. He starts with "I don't want the person I like to get hurt", in here he's still using the third person but the message is really straightforward "the person I like" and as the conversation goes by and it becomes more meaningful, deep and intimate, he leaves all his chains behind and says "I need you, I have never denied that". This card is all about communication, even he admits that he's always been bad at saying what others want to hear and still, he's trying.

In Hidden Motive, this behaviour keeps going. When MC says that the lights behind him are beautiful, he looks at her and replies "Indeed, very beautiful". Because his eyes are fixating in her, she clarifies that she's talking about the lights but without hesitation Zayne replies: "I know. I was talking about you"

And I'd like you to recall Drunken Intimacy because this is like a paralel with Hidden Motive, since both cards were made for lovers' day festivities; Drunken intimacy for Valentine's Day and Hidden Motive for Qixi festival which is lovers' day in China. Not only they are like cards that go hand in hand but also showcase Zayne's and MC's character develompment and how their relationship has changed:

See the difference?

In Snowy Serenity and Hidden Motive, there's a focus on improving communication, being honest about their needs and feelings (Zayne saying "I'll survive" at MC's concern and her telling him that he'd better stop talking in Snowy Serenity and MC talking about her "last wishes" before dying and entrusting them to Zayne and he replying that he didn't come all the way here to listen to her talk about that nonsense) and finally, getting both physically and emotionally closer.

In this last event, "Adventure above clouds" it feels like the result of this devlopment is finally paying off all their effort: they're both happy working together to solve the escape room, showing open affection, talking about the future and the past ("Us in 50 years" "Our childhood memories" or how was Zayne's university years without MC and the big difference now that he has someone to watch the falling snow with). They talk about how they're each other's sun, how they keep each other warm. When Zayne says that the snow will show them the way and they both "pray" it kind of reminded me of Master of Fate. They getting at the top of the Ice Palace reminded me of Foreseer.

(It's like we've reached peak, literally lol. Ok, bad joke, that's why I love Zayne).

And once all of this has happened, once they've gone through all this develpment, they've come this far together, even bits of the story reminded me of Zayne's myths, and they've talked about the past and the future, what's next?

Zayne mentions eternity.

Zayne has mentioned eternity a couple of times, like in one of the PV's where he's wearing End of Depths outfit ("As the cosmos dances to the tune of eternity, life will reach the fathomless depths of deepspace") and in some of the texts that show up when you level up your affinity with him ("I want to turn every moment into eternity).

In here, he doesn't mention eternity directly, but it's implied when he says "Every snowflake will rememember your name. As well as our story". Eternity is just another way to refer to death for immortal people. It's like Zayne is saying "Your name and our story will endure in the snow even when we're no longer here". We often talk about the memories we leave behind in this world once we part from it, who will remember us? What are the proofs that we existed and lived in this world once we're gone? Will our story fade away? In here is like Zayne is just promising her that their love won't be forgotten.

Let's remind that one focal point in the story is immortality. We know that MC it's immortal and even in the main story, when Zayne it's explaining things about the protocore in MC's heart, he mentions that he doesn't know too much about it, however he knows that her protocore creates a shield around her when she's attacked and that she will live long enough to discover its misteries (kind of reminds of the Creatio Protocore that Foreseer gave MC but that's another talk for another day).

Whether if Dr Zayne knows about MC's immortality or he doesn't, that's something we don't know yet (altho something tells me that he knows, but I won't be explaning this here, if you're curious about it just ask), however we know two things:

1._ Zayne it's against using protocores in human hearts to reach "immortality". To him, death is still essential to life.

2._ Even knowing this, he also knew in his heart that he would do everything in his power to prevent MC's death and he seems to know that something bad is about to happen.

Master of Fate and Foreseer already proved these points. Master of Fate had to kill MC for the greater good but decided to say "fuck it" and instead chose to seal her powers. Foreseer also broke the rules for her sake and gave her the Creatio Protocore, going against Astra's will in order to cure her illness and extend her life (probably one of the things that caused her immortality?). She's always been the exception to every rule in Zayne's book. Something tells me that things with Dr Zayne won't be the exception.

And now... we have to recall something about Zayne's first PV.

Ever since the beginning, Zayne's route was presented as something with angst. It's interesting to hear these unknown voices saying "Won't you regret it" "She will not come back" "You've paid the price"

This whole PV makes it look like Zayne puts MC to sleep in order to protect her (like with MoF) so she wouldn't "come back" ( revive with the help of her aether core) and then... he loses control of his evol and freezes the whole hospital? Dies in the process? These are just speculations and can be wrong, however we simply know that something bad is happening there and, if we recall them talking in "Adventure above the clouds" and "Us in fifty years"... this PV kinda shatters the hopes for them to have a life as long as that. However, 5* memories and events are not exactly connected to the main story but I think they kind of... interconnect somehow? I'm still wondering how the devs are going to relate each ML route with the Main Story. The announced that they are going to release more "Main Story Branches" from September to December, and I don't know if by saying "Branches" they meant routes? Or simply referencing to the way they've released the main story until now, with each chapter dedicated to each LI? Either way, those are questions for another day.

Now, let's remember this:

"When you and the world wake up, I hope we do not meet again"

A quote that kind of leads us to Zayne's next lifetime: Dawnbreaker.

I've mentioned above that there are bits of Zayne's route in Adventure above clouds that reminded me of MoF and Foreseer, but now it's also time to mention the most obvious thing, the Dawnbreaker reference in this event, of course: "Shadowfall dawn":

There are two things about Zayne's look here:

1._ He's wearing the variant version of Dawnbreaker's outfit.

2._ He also has a halo above his head.

And these two things together create an interesting concept considering that Dawnbreaker Zayne, the serial killer is considered the Grim Reaper, his whole aesthetic is dark, it's even clarified in his anecdotes that his wardrobe was full of black clothes. To see him with a brown variant of his outfit wouldn't make sense at some point... So, of course, Doctor Zayne being his opposite, the one who instead of ending lifes, saves them to the point of exahustion, wears the clear variant outfit, looking like an angel.

Were have we read this before?

Of course, Doctor Zayne is in the opposite role of Dawnbreaker Zayne and even tho Doctor Zayne is always wearing black clothes outside of his lab coat, it's actually wearing his profession's clothes what completes the aesthetic with Dawnbreaker: The Guardian Angel (white) and The Grim Reaper (black).

However in Adventure above clouds, Zayne is not wearing his lab coat cause he is not in his Doctor role. He's just being Zayne, he's being himself, what he is. He's being free, like I commented at the beginning of this post. Still, the fact he's wearing Dawnbreaker's variant with a halo seems a bit supicious considering what I've already pointed out, right? It could also be that I'm simply looking too much into it, but I also believe in the power of foreshadowing, especially considering that we all know that Zayne's birthday is coming next and it kind of connects with Dawnbreaker.

In the story of Adventure above clouds, of course there is a reason as to why everyone is wearing an accessory, in Zayne's case, it's because his role is being "Winter's emissary" just as MC, so she is also wearing one, however we all know that "Winter's emissary" it's more likely to be a fitting title for Zayne than for her. Recalling what it's been previously mentioned here, he says "With Winter's Emissary by your side, every snowflake will remember your name, as well as our story".

Zayne is saying that he'll be by her side in the snow, he is promising her eternity in the snow and with the halo above his head, it is clear that he kinda looks like MC's Guardian Angel, the one who is always going against his duty to ensure her safety, the one who pursued a medical career in order to take care of her heart disease, the one who is always on the lookout for her health and tho stric, still indulges her a lot. Aren't angels emissaries as well?

But you know, in order to become an angel, you first have to die? Doctor Zayne didn't have to die in order to fullfil his role as a doctor, however this one is simply Zayne. Emissaries never stay, they always have to return to the ppl who sent them. Will Zayne return to snow?

What was Zayne's reply to MC's post again?

At the end, all of this are nothing more than supositions that of course, it'd be very happy to get wrong. I wouldn't mind ending up looking like a clown if these theories are wrong and we get to spend a lot of time and precious memories with Zayne. I genuinely just want to see him being happy after all these years of respressed emotions.

[signanothername]

penny for your thoughts on dadmare and more fandom takes??

🪙

Tbh Anon you have to be a bit more specific with what fandom takes you want my opinion on cause I genuinely can’t think of any shshhshshs

But for dadmare… hmmmmmmm

It’s… I have complicated feelings about this trope

Like on one hand, I love the exploration of dadmare as a concept and would genuinely love for it to be explored in a deep meaningful way

On the other hand… the fandom never actually explores it in a deep meaningful way so everytime I come across dadmare a part of me dies inside

Like the fandom immediately settles for “tired generic dad trying to control his rowdy kids” and i’m here like :’)

Like i’d love for dadmare to actually be explored in depth, like the shift for Nightmare from being a bitch to being “dadmare” how does Nightmare deal with MTT in a dadmare way while staying true to his character

How did Nightmare develop and change and how does he feel about being “dadmare”, does he struggle to face the consequences of the abuse he put MTT through and how does he make it up to them? but like also for the love of god you can explore this trope without having MTT act like children, they’re literally +30 old men and you don’t have to infantilize them for the trope to work

Also hot take but everytime MTT call Nightmare “dad” unironically an angel loses its wings, it just ruins the vibes for me, like dadmare is a trope yet people genuinely take it too literally, which again just plays into the infantilization of adult characters

Hell, relationships aren’t one sided, how does MTT feel about Nightmare’s shift, do they trust him or do they take it as an opportunity to escape, do they hate Nightmare but warm up to him or do they not care for his change of heart

Like here’s an example, when people write dadmare, they write his ability to absorb MTT’s negativity to relieve them of their pain right? Ok cool, I LOVE THAT! What I hate tho is the fact every single person in the gang seems to “trust” Nightmare with their life and how all of them react the same way

Basically the MTT are reduced to cardboard cutouts that are literally just duplicates of each other, they all have the exact same reaction to anything Nightmare does, like you’re actually gonna sit here and tell me that Killer trusts Nightmare with his soul????? What did Nightmare do to earn that trust, and Killer isn’t a trusting person to begin with

Hell what did Nightmare do in the first place? Even when the interpretation of Nightmare is that he’s kind from the beginning and that he “saved them”, do you honestly believe that Murder would genuinely feel saved? Are you gonna tell me Horror is gonna stay and live with Nightmare by his own volition and abandon his brother where he only goes back to “visit” him? Since when has Nightmare become more important to Horror than Papyrus?

Hell since when can Murder, Killer and Horror communicate well?? Since when were they super close to each other and since when was Murder ok with Killer’s existence considering his very dangerous Determination and Chara-like nature?

Since when was Killer super emotional in stage 2 and since when was his other stages completely forgotten to fit the perfectly happy and healthy family that the fandom is trying to force onto these obviously unhealthy characters with unhealthy relationships and destructive behaviors

Like don’t get me wrong, people are obviously allowed to explore their fave characters however they like, but my point is, I can’t enjoy the trope of Dadmare even tho i want to, cause the fandom just settles for very straight forward answers to every problem, every little problem is immediately resolved with a snap of a finger

Everything is happy and rainbows and roses and any problems the MTT have they just go to dadmare and suddenly they’re no longer self destructive cause dadmare immediately saves them cause he always has the answer!!!

And i’m here still waiting for an interpretation of dadmare that actually pulls me in and actually interests me like

[paper-mario-wiki]

transfems can be women but you are not, you're an agp

(i actually blocked the original person who sent this and then resent it to myself on anon to keep the presentation fitting since i would like to share my perspective on this anyhow. here's what i would have said to this straw-man argument-haver if they weren't already blocked!)

TL;DR: you're wrong with both of the things you asserted in your statement. 1) i am not an AGP which is because 2) AGP's are exactly as much of a woman as i am.

what meaningful categorization could you put on someone to fit the description of "autogynophile" that precludes them from womanhood without inherently being contradictorily transphobic? "it turns them on to think about being vaginally penetrated" yeah i bet a lot of cishet woman fantasize about that too. "they only changed their identity because they like being a lady so much it helps them get off" okay? and? this is not a categorization which is inherently predatory, so who cares? gender is, irrevocably, an invention. it's a farce. it's nothing, we made it up, that's the whole point of agreeing that people can change it if they say they want to.

drawing a social line by the physical distinctions of "do they have penis or the other one" is as arbitrary as separating people by right handedness and left handedness or the eye color they were born with. the social expectations, behaviors, and woes are a consequence of the fact that everyone has been taught "this is just how it is, and it makes you different in every way, and this is how it's always been, and this is how it'll always be", same as the way people keep using fiat currencies (the US dollar for example), despite them being backed up by no singular tangible thing in any way that matters, aside from the word of the person who controls it.

and sometimes going along with that stuff is fine! i mean not the money, but the other one. the gender one. i like to be called a woman, while also knowing that "woman" is an invention. "pretty" is also an invention, and i love to be called that. "sonic the hedgehog" is an invention that people talk about using the same verbiage they use when describing real, tangible, breathing creatures, despite the fact that sonic the hedgehog exists conceptually and not physically (not including physical representations, which are not the same thing).

i think agp's are also women. if i could read someone's mind and they said "hi im a woman" but i knew they were thinking "im actually a man" i would still say "hello woman" because they might as well have given me their name for all the difference it makes in how we interact moving forward. if someone has no intention or probability to harm themselves or anyone else, i couldn't care less.

all that being said, you're wrong with both of the things you asserted in your statement. 1) i am not an AGP because 2) AGP are exactly as much of a woman as i am. it is a meaningless category coined by bigots and only given credibility by people with bigoted views.

[nomazee]

pry your way in

sebastian (sdv) x gn reader

word count: 4.7k (oh my god)

content: mutual pining, ROMANTIC TENSION, aggressive pining on the reader’s part, do they kiss or do they not, social anxiety (can u TELL), embarrassing situations, comedy (maybe) (hopefully) (maybe you’ll get a little giggle out of this and swing your feet around), so much build up, the slowest burn you could possibly get in under 5k words

notes: oh HEY guys so i went crazy again and i don’t think i’ve ever written so much in one sitting. this is insane. look at what this game has done to me. 

part 1 part 2 (you are here) part 3

<><><><><>

All you need to do is drop off these stupid eggs in Gus’s fridge. That’s it. In and out and then you can go home and pretend that you did not stare at Sebastian for almost an entire straight minute in the doorway of the saloon. 

He’s too busy playing pool, you think, and from the brief (many) glances you’ve taken at them, it looks like he’s pretty close to beating Sam. Your heart goes out to the blonde. One day, for sure, he’ll be able to get more than three balls in an entire game against Sebastian. 

The fridge door is open now. No one notices you except for Emily, who gives you a kind nod and a smile. You don’t know if you should be upset by the fact that no one really talks to you whenever you go to the saloon unless you talk first, or if you should be incredibly relieved. It’s leaning to the latter, because you don’t think you could handle being looked at right now especially by Sebastian because good god the jellyfish thing was so embarrassing and you really hope he’s forgotten about it because oh my god you actually almost puked all over his shoes and what is wrong with you and—

“Farmer!” Oh god. It’s a woman’s voice. It’s Abigail, and despite the fuzz in your mind you can tell by the timbre of her voice and the fact that the shout came from over by the pool table. You managed to get two eggs in the container in the fridge before being ousted. Good job. You hope Gus’ extreme ginormous 24-egg omelet is worth all of this. 

If you tried really hard, you could have played it off as if you didn't hear her at all. But then she’s walking over to you and you hear her footsteps and they’re light, friendly. Unfortunately, that does nothing to stop you from freezing up and feeling every individual cell in your body go taut.

Maybe she’s going to kill you, or something, because maybe you did actually puke all over Sebastian’s sneakers nights before this and your mind just blocked it out. Oh god. Well, this town was nice while it lasted. You hope they’ll bury you in a nice spot out of courtesy. 

Turning to face Abigail, you manage to give her a shaky sort of grin and wave. “Oh. Hey. I didn't know you were here.” You are such a liar. And a bad one, probably. 

“Yeah! Me and Sam and Sebastian.” You nod at that. A pause, and then, “Hey, are you busy tonight? We were wondering if you wanted to join us. We’re playing pool, but— um, it’s mainly just those two playing. They’ve got a rivalry going on.” 

She looks back at them and watches, amused, and you do the same for a moment. Sam is in the middle of making some big joke-y scene, throwing his head back and groaning and swatting at Sebastian while the other man just barely ducks away from his attacks. They’re laughing, and elbowing each other and you look away before either of them notice that you’re watching with the intensity of a wild deer. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Thank you. I don’t want to come if not everyone wants me to join.” 

“Everyone does,” Abigail tells you, and she’s really telling you. With purpose. There is something in her eyes. Something imploring and meaningful and her lips are quirking up in some pretty and teasing smile, and you’re wondering what’s so different about the way Pelican Town people are raised to make them carry so much weight in their eyes. So much weight that it makes you dizzy. And nauseous. And now maybe you’ll puke on Abigail’s shoes, instead.

“Okay.” It comes out as a whisper from your shaky mouth. She only smiles brighter at you. You register that you’re still behind Gus’s counter and there are drinks being shaken and poured just steps behind you. “Okay, I’ll be over in a second.” 

Great, she tells you, and then she’s turning around and walking away with a little jump and you might throw up because why did you agree to this? You did not plan on talking to people this evening. Not at all. And you’re wishing so hard that you had just dropped these eggs off in the morning. This is the type of stuff that happens when you don't just drop eggs off in the morning. Just your luck. 

You shake your head, as if maybe it’ll rattle your senses into being ready to spectate a pool game and talk with people for at least half an hour. And Sebastian. You don’t think you could handle the intensity of just sitting next to him. You might throw up again. All over the pool cues and the fuzzy cloth of the pool table. And maybe Sam’s shoes. Everyone’s shoes are getting thrown up on this week. 

Eventually, you make the walk out from the counter and consider just leaving through the door and telling Abigail later on that you just felt sick and needed to go home. It wouldn’t be a lie. You are a person of half-truths, most definitely. 

But you don’t, because you like Abigail and you want her to like you too. By the look of everything she’s done for you, you’re fairly certain that she does like you, or at least more-than-tolerates you, and you would like to keep it that way instead of burning down all of your Stardew Valley relationships in a slow, painful fire. (And okay, yes, maybe it’s a benefit that she’s friends with Sebastian. So what.) 

You blink. You’re in front of the three of them. Abigail and Sam are smiling at you and Sebastian is giving you a look. What is it with the people in this valley and their looks?! You have yet to be able to decode any of them. This is rough. So rough. You’re falling back into the uncomfortable feeling of otherness. Of just-barely-not-fitting. Like squeezing between a desk and a wall. Every other day you are walking through just fine, and the other days you are squeezing between this town and the people and everything you have yet to learn. 

You might puke. You’re not making it out of this saloon alive. 

“Hey, farmer!” Sam greets you, and your chest is struck with endearment over how everyone calls you farmer. Maybe it’s just because they forgot your name, but you can’t seem to mind it at all. “Are you joining us?” 

“Oh, just for a bit,” you tell him. You can’t help the smile that takes over your face, warmed and sheepish. “And then I should go. But I’m a big fan of watching you guys argue over pool. Really, it’s very captivating.” 

Abigail chortles, taking pleasure in the playful sarcasm you’ve adapted to. When Sam and Sebastian both follow suit in their own little laughs, your defensive habits slip away the slightest bit. And you can’t seem to find it in you to hold onto them. 

“Less of an argument and more of a…” Sebastian pauses with a teasing glance at his friend. Your heart stops for no reason other than you being stupid and in love, and it only chokes you up when he directs his stupid stupid pretty eyes right at you. “More of Sam being a sore loser. It’s an easy win on my part, really.” 

A snicker escapes you, undignified in how easily you let it out and how it threatens to reverberate against the walls of the game room. You’re holding onto yourself for dear life, trying to ground yourself in some attempt to maybe keep some of your dignity before it’s worn away through the course of the evening. 

But Sebastian has this prideful simper on his face and it’s like he’s happy to make you laugh. Maybe it’s the loving delusions running through your head. But you let yourself dream, just for a minute. 

Stupid boy. The urge to kiss him is slowly hurtling its way through your entire system, and it’s starting with your respiratory tract judging by the way you can’t seem to catch a breath. Stupid. Boy. 

“You can sit down, you know,” and he nods his head to the pair of chairs behind him. “Stay a while.” His eyes are filled with a stupid teasing glimmer and you might pull him aside just to kiss that expression right off his face. 

You won’t. Obviously. Because look at what happened last time you let your inhibitions run free. (Absolutely. Nothing.) 

Maybe I will, you want to say, stay a while. Maybe I’ll stay forever. 

You take a seat, and Sebastian is still leaning against the table with his pool cue in hand. He is looking at you, hesitant, with his mouth slightly open like he wants to say something. Before he can, Abigail interrupts. 

“Wait, let me take over for you!” She says, rushing forward to steal the cue from him. “I want to play! You guys, like, totally monopolize the table every time we’re here.” Abigail’s eyes flit to Sebastian, then to you, and she continues, “Next time, let’s just play the two of us. You and me, farmer.” 

There’s another big, stupid smile stretching your face taut and you hope none of them notice your cracked, drying lips. They’re peeling open from how much you’re grinning tonight and how much you’re not moisturizing them. “Of course.” 

Sebastian is left with nothing in his hands once Abigail turns to aim her cue and hit the white ball (poorly) in an attempt to keep up Sebastian’s winning streak. With her and Sam occupied, you are left with the black haired man standing aimless in front of you. Again. And his eyes are trailing you, with purpose and a goal to speak. Again. 

You throw his words back at him with, “Well, sit down. Stay a while.” And he does. And your stupid mind is wondering if maybe him following you so easily means something. Stupid stupid. 

“How’s, um. Your stomach,” he asks, stunted pauses littering his voice as he tries his best to look at you. You don’t know what he’s talking about, and it must show on your face because he’s clarifying, “From the ceremony last week. I haven't seen you since then so I figured you must’ve been sick.” 

Sebastian is prying. Not in his words, but in the way he’s looking at you. Really, really looking, and this feels like a repeat of last week and you are reliving a million and one things that you would rather never relive again. 

Your palms are suddenly cold and you’re avoiding his gaze, body stiff with guilt. You’d been avoiding him for a week and you honestly hadn’t even noticed. It was like a subconscious response to humiliating yourself in front of the pretty boy that you’ve liked for weeks now. You hope he doesn’t blame you for that, somehow. 

“Right. Um, I was fine. I’m fine now, I mean. I turned out fine. Sorry for all of that,” your feet are shuffling against the ground and you drag patterns into your pants to comfort yourself. “It was kind of embarrassing. To have you walk me home and then suddenly get sick. I really am sorry for that.” 

“Don’t even worry about it.” There’s a sureness in his voice. When you find the courage in your lungs to turn and look at him, you’re met with a furrowed brow and steady eyes. It’s overwhelming you with ten different feelings, many of which are yelling at you to KISS HIS STUPID FACE. “Seriously. It wasn’t embarrassing, either. Things happen. I’m just glad you’re okay, now.” 

Sebastian ends it with another one of his chest-aching, brain-melting, palm-sweating smiles and he’s doing that stupid thing with the corners of his mouth. He probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it, and that’s what frustrates you the most. Maybe you should tell him, but he would take it the wrong way and stop doing it and you wouldn’t survive without seeing that stupid smile. As much as it makes you want to tear your hair out if you look at it for too long. 

You give him a firm nod. The rest of the night is easy conversation. You have one drink. Really, you make sure of it, because you haven’t gotten intoxicated in months and you really don’t want to see what drunk-you does in Stardew Valley in front of the sweet townspeople and the stupid pretty man in front of you. Said stupid-pretty-man follows suit, only having a pale ale and indulging in shirley temples for the rest of the night. (You punch yourself for finding it endearing that he likes such a sweet drink. Urgh.) 

It feels like a parallel universe of the Moonlight Jellies celebration of last week. One where you are a much less awkward person (but, really, there’s just barely a difference between now and before), and where you offer to walk him home instead of the other way around. Your stupid infatuated heart skips a stupid beat when you ask him if you can walk him back, but it quells when he gives you an easy smile and agrees. You pointedly ignore the voice in your head telling you that he sounds almost enthusiastic.

Sam and Abigail wish you goodnight, and they’re both beaming at you in a silly way that makes you follow suit. Giggles bubble in your chest and you don’t even know why. You think they must just have those kinds of personalities, and you really couldn't be more happy to seep into it. 

You don’t hold Sebastian’s hand on the way back. Not at all. In fact, you don’t even feel the urge to. You totally, totally don’t look at his hand swaying between you and fight the instinct to grab it and trace your fingers across his palm lines and the dips of his knuckles and all the scars he’s collected in his youth. You. Do not. Feel that way at all. 

It’s easy conversation, yet again. It’s almost impressive how, even with how easily you seem to do the most mortifying, awkward things in front of Sebastian, you still slip into moments with him where you can talk like you’ve known each other forever. God. Something about this town. You can’t tell if you want to catch the next operable bus out of here or stay here forever. You feel that way often, actually. 

Before you know it, you’ve cut through the city and ended up in the mountains and in front of his house. The lights are off. It must be super late, then, if everyone’s dead asleep like that. 

Crickets chirp and buzz in the air. You and Sebastian stop walking in the middle of the large dirt patch that takes up his front yard. Now, you’re looking at each other, and he’s giving you his awkward stupid gorgeous downward grin. You hope that you’re giving him something at least half as pretty, with the way you feel your lips stretch and crack again. You really need to get lip balm from Pierre’s. 

“It’s so late,” you mutter, because you don’t know what else to say and your heart is melting and slipping right out of your chest and onto the soil. “I guess I should go home.” 

You hope—cross-your-fingers-say-a-prayer type of hope—that he hears the hesitancy in your voice. That he realizes you don’t want to leave. That he sees the fondness in your eyes and how you’re trying to soften every defense mechanism you’ve ever learned in order to pry into him, now. And you hope. Cross your fingers and say a prayer. That he wants that, too. 

He hums a thoughtful, quiet sort of hum. Sebastian doesn’t move towards the door, or bid you a goodnight, or nod along and tell you he’ll see you another day. He waits. He is looking at you and prying you open and trying to gauge your reaction. To what, you don’t know, but there’s a static feeling in your head that tells you to wait and find out. 

“Right,” he says finally. His voice and his mouth curl carefully around the word, and it’s there again—the pauses, the hesitancy. You see your habits in him and you are aching with the need to find out what he means. What this all means. And you’re feeling stupid, and so you wait, too. 

“I think I feel bad leaving you to walk home,” Sebastian tells you. He’s speaking slowly, but not in a degrading way. It feels more like he wants the words to float to you and sink into the pores of your skin. And they do. They do, and it’s embarrassing, because now you’re sweating and hoping (again) that it doesn’t show on your face or your hands or the twisting of your fingers. “This is really far from the farm, you know.” 

“I think I would know,” you respond, teasing and lighthearted and acting like there isn’t a saturated yearning weighing down your body right now. “I can manage. I’ve been in the mines, you know. Seen all the monsters down there and everything.” 

He lets out a stupid breathy laugh and shakes his head. You hate how he acts so nonchalant, like it’s not obvious that you’re fighting the instinct to pick him up and shake him around like a bobblehead until his skull pops right off his neck. “Right, because there’s totally monsters down there.” 

“There are! You can come with me one day. I’ll prove it to you.” And it’s risky, to entertain that kind of thing, the concept of you two spending time together alone, where no one can see. Sebastian takes that as a challenge, apparently, because the diffident tilt of his lips turns smug and he’s saying,

“Then maybe you’ll sleep over one day.” 

Stttttupid boy. He’s stupid. The stupidest man you’ve ever met because now you’re really, really holding onto every last shred of your self-control. The thought of you in his house, with you both sleeping in the same twenty-foot-radius of space is making you heat up more than the valley’s summer sun. A frog croaks in a nearby bush. Nausea pools in your intestines. 

And you’re a terrible person, really, because even though you’re sweating and lightheaded from the heat you’re entertaining the thought of you both sleeping in the same bed. And it’s ridiculous. Really. You’re both adults who are perfectly capable of sleeping in the same bed without it meaning anything. Any particle of logic that enters your brain is vaporized by the heat of it. Your stomach is twisting and you swallow around the lump in your throat. 

He’s watching you. Still watching. Waiting for something to happen. The look he’s giving you is bordering on defensive, as if he’s anticipating a rejection. Stupid man. By now, he should realize you’re not prone to giving him rejections, of all people. 

“Maybe I will.” By some grace of whatever higher power is listening, you choke out the last puddles of your strength into a hopefully-confident tone of voice and the last words you have left in you for the night. It’s not a rejection. You hope he understands that. And he does. Oh, he has to understand what you mean by now, because he’s biting his lips and still. Looking at you. And waiting. All he does is wait. And you glance down and see his hands twitching at his sides. And you are going to do something. Something.

Oh, god. You’re thinking, Oh, okay, this is what this is, and he’s doing his stupid smile and the corners of his lips tuck in and you’re staring at them again. Really, really staring at them. You hope he notices. Your fingers are twitching now, too, almost aching with the need to hold something—to hold him and his twitching hands and spin them around in yours like a fingertrap. You want to get stuck and woven together, just for a moment. An aching, hurting, burning, devastating moment. 

It’s all you want. It’s all you’ve wanted for weeks now. And there’s a heat in your chest and your fingers and your head. Fingers twitching, eyes unblinking, and hands sweating; you wait. Wait for him to come closer. For him to do. Something. Soon. 

It’s an impossible task for you. You are not one for initiative. Never have been, not since you left your stupid office job and took up your place on this stupid farm and fell in love with this stupid man. Initiative is a daunting, horrifying, overwhelming concept, and all of your ambition has been drained from you ever since you planted your first parsnip in the ground. 

But but but. And this is how it always goes with you and Sebastian. But but but. There’s something about tonight. Something about tonight and the last week and the week before and the seasons before this that have carved this open wound into the middle of your diaphragm. Without even knowing it, Sebastian has clawed his way between your lungs and made an uneasy home in your heart. It’s disgusting, and maybe you’ll cough up all this adoration right on the doormat of his family’s house. 

How long has it been? How long have you both been standing here like idiots and waiting and breathing and staring? How long? You are asking yourself too many stupid questions. Initiative. You think of it again—and now your hands are on Sebastian’s shoulders and you don’t have half the mind to wonder when you stepped closer. 

You are not slow in your movements. Not at all. You are urgent and desperate and aching, but you give just enough time for him to pull away. In the back of your head, you wish that he’ll pull back and leave you empty and cold. But there is a warmth seeping through the cloth of his hoodie and tonight, you are stupid. 

You’re staring for just a moment before you close your eyes and surge forward slow enough for him to stop you, but fast enough that he won’t get the chance to look at your embarrassing, longing, yearning face before you kiss him. 

Because that’s it. You’re kissing him. You’re kissing him, with your hands gripping his shoulders with bruising strength, and with your feet planted into the ground to stop yourself from either floating or flinging yourself into the lake. You’re kissing him. And he’s not pulling away. And his hands reach to touch your elbows gently. For a moment, you think he’ll shove you down and run away, but his fingers are tapping along your arms, leaving a buzz in your bones and your head and your heart. 

You. Are kissing him. You are. You fucking. Did it. Joy floods your buzzing body and you hope he can’t hear how loud your skull is vibrating, how intensely your chest is rattling. Or how heavy your hands have become on his shoulders and how much you’re pushing back against him to get further, to pull him into you and you into him and pour in everything you’ve ever felt straight to his lungs. You’re kissing him. 

And he’s warm. So warm. Unexpectedly so, and you feel your entire body heat up in innocent adoration and you want his fingers to curl around your forearms and ground you. His hands shift, and for a minute you think he might pull away, but now he’s dragging his fingers in small paths up your arm, above your elbow and brushing your shoulders. Ggggggggod. God. You’re gonna scream into his mouth and slap him. Stupid man. 

In reality it lasts for a second, but the rush of feelings and thoughts and screams and cries that overwhelms your body makes it feel like it’s an hour. (At least ten minutes, maybe.) You wonder how he feels. You wonder if he’s trying to pour everything into you through this, too; or if maybe, he’s a normal fucking human being who is just kissing you to kiss you without all the grandeur and flourish and waxing poetic. Unbothered, you realize you won’t mind regardless of which it is. 

Your eyes are closed, and you hope his still are, too, because if he opens them and sees you you might throw up all over him. For the fortieth time this week. 

“Sebas— oh!” 

And. There’s a voice and a distressed exclamation. It’s Robin. Holy shit. It is his mother. 

The man you just spent an hour kissing (read: five seconds max) takes a moment to realize what just happened. You, on the other hand, have a ridiculous supercomputer in your head and you have long since figured out what just happened. You cannot believe this. This is embarrassing. A trip back to Zuzu City is well deserved now. 

“I’m— so sorry. Oh goodness.” Robin is being way too polite. You’d thought for sure she would’ve yelled at you and banned you from coming to the mountains ever again. You already kissed goodbye to both Sebastian (literally) and your mining career. And half your fishing career.

Sebastian’s face is flooded in color. It’s soaked in red and radiating heat that you can feel even with the ten-foot distance you had placed between yourselves. He’s not looking at you or his mother, eyes instead fixed on the patch of torn up dirt behind you. 

Finally, you process that Robin is the one apologizing to you, which is ridiculous and you wish she would’ve just pushed you into the river and screamed at you instead. You wish these people would’ve been a lot meaner to you already, and then maybe you would have never worked up the gall to kiss the man you’re stupidly in love with and cause this whole ordeal. 

“I’m so sorry,” and you’re the one saying it this time. You turn to look at Robin fully and resist the urge to fall to your knees and beg for her forgiveness. Tonight, you committed a mortal sin—giving her son a big fat heart-stopping kiss on the mouth right in front of their house—and you can only be forgiven by death, and death alone. 

There’s a confused look in her eyes, almost worried, and you think you might be actually shaking enough to launch yourself into the stratosphere like a space cannon. Instead, you channel the energy into completely turning yourself around and running away from the both of them. 

Disastrous. This night has been disastrous. You would’ve rather actually puked on everyone’s shoes instead of going through whatever the hell that was. You’re never going to catch a break in this stupid town with these stupid people and stupid Sebastian and his too-sweet-for-her-own-good mom. 

When you get home, you’re panting in exhaustion from sprinting across the valley, and your nerves and head are still buzzing and your lips are still warm from Sebastian’s being completely and willingly planted on them for about ten whole seconds. Your brain is too fried and melted to even consider the implications of everything you both just did, but you can’t seem to care. 

You’re embarrassed. Wholly and utterly humiliated, and for a moment you cross your fingers and pray to whoever will listen that you won’t be a topic of discussion during Robin and Sebastian’s family dinner with everyone else. 

You take a moment to catch your breath (an impossible thing) and finally collapse into your bed. You’re staring at your ceiling for what feels like hours, but you have a very poor sense of time and don’t trust that judgment at all. Everything settles in your head like mud shaken in a jar of water. And you smile. Dear god. Despite it all, you’re smiling and giddy and laughing to yourself, riding a high of schoolgirl-type-infatuation and post-kiss-adrenaline the weird, cruel excitement of the night. 

You kissed him. You kissed Sebastian. You. Fucking. Did it. 

The rest can be worried about tomorrow. Or maybe the day after that. Maybe even never, because you are absolutely going to avoid everyone and move in with the wizard instead, living in isolation for the rest of your life. But for now. You swing your feet and giggle like a twelve-year-old and replay the kiss in your head. Over and over. Like a sleep aid. You fucking did it.

[gomu-fer]

Red satin and a sundress

Sanji x gardener!reader

Warnings: Fluff, confession, angry reader (just for a moment) fem reader

Word count: 1,944 words

Summary: In which Sanji confesses his love for you but you don’t understand what’s happening. From my gardener!reader series but can be read as a stand alone

˖°𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧.𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

“Are you afraid?” Yo dropped your pencil, turned eyes wide and a gasp escaped your mouth “Robin you scared me half to death!” You collected the pencil from the floor as the woman sat in front of you with a coffee mug in hand “Are you?” You looked at her puzzled “Afraid of what?” Robin motioned her head to where you were once glancing before she made you jump in your seat, the cook serving an afternoon drink to Nami “Sanji?” You laughed “The only man that scares me a little in this ship is probably Zoro” you said while looking back at your notebook “I meant, are you afraid to love, y/n?” Robin asked while pointing at the sketch of the blonde you had made beside your annotations. Red colored your face, hands sweaty “Quite the contrary actually… but him” you glanced at Sanji again as he swooned around the annoyed navigator “I don’t think he likes me the way I do, I just happen to be a woman and he happens to love them” the black haired woman giggled as you looked at her confused once more “If you allowed to open yourself to him, I’m sure you’ll change your mind…”

So you did

You talked and talked to Sanji, spending time together, flirting back every now and then even if it made you mad nervous and making sure he noticed how you’ll treat him differently from the rest, you were patient, understanding and caring. Of course he didn’t stop being a huge flirt with every single woman he’ll stumble upon on, but he did something more meaningful for you , he made you a space in his heart. He would tell you about his dream, his passions, his past and just all about him, parts no one else saw but you, as well as he saw parts of you one else did, and eventually Sanji realized that love wasn’t always loud and over the top, love was looking at your person and feeling safe, warm and at peace. So yeah maybe he would skip and spin while serving Robin a coffee and would make heart eyes whenever Nami addressed him, but with you, he was himself and nothing else.

“Are you coming to the Island?” You were leaning in the door frame of the kitchen, Sanji jumped, he was seated at the counter with a cooking book in hand absolutely lost in thought “Oh Flower! Didn’t see you there” he closed it immediately as he saw you standing in the room “No dear I… I’m staying to keep watch on the ship!” You frowned.

This last week the cook had been acting quite strange, whenever you wanted to initiate a conversation he would cut it short, whenever your hands brushed he would back up, his eyes wouldn’t even cross your way. This was absolutely weird behavior considering you two were considerably more close than anyone in the crew, you hoped to talk to him about the matter during a walk around the Island “But you always restock the fridge” you walked closer which made him flinch “I gave the stupid moss head the list of things we need, I’ll wait here!” a piercing silence filled the room, he felt distant “Sanji what’s wro-“ you were loudly interrupted by Luffy who barged in “Y/n!!! Are you coming or not?”

“Yes, I guess I am”

Did you smell? Did you said or do something wrong? Did you looked uglier? Was there something different? Was he bored of you? He was probably all this time super sweet to you for mere entertainment right? A million questions overwhelmed you, you just couldn’t place what had possibly changed between you two.

“Y/n? Are you even listening?” After buying new plants and seeds for the garden, you decided to join Nami and Robin at the local boutique, you needed a distraction but it seemed you were the one distracting yourself “Is there something wrong?” Robin asked quite worried, you shook your head and tried to brush it off but your hands grew green moss and sharp roses, you couldn’t hide your emotions even if you tried. The two girls shared a look, they respected your decision to not talk about the matter and they were not gonna pressure you to say anything you didn’t want to “How about we find you a new sundress?” Nami smiled your way “Nah, I’m a gardener, dresses are not very practical”

But you underestimated the navigators persuasive abilities, now you had tried 6 dresses already, none of them convincing enough for your friend. You heard Robin’s muffled laugh coming form outside the dresser “I had never seen such a serious hunt for a dress” you sighed “Tell me about it” yet another dress appeared hanging in the door behind you “Ow c’mon you guys this is fun! I’m having fun” Nami defended. You tried on the next dress and for your surprise it planted a smile on your face, it was red and it tied with a delicate bow in the front, giving apace to show all the beautiful jewelry you always wore around your neck, with short princess like puffy sleeves with an opening in the side of your legs that showed a white fabric with red flowers under it. As you came out of the dresser and spinned around for your friends, it was like you had completely forgotten about the cook “I am amazingggg” Robin clapped at Namis incredible styling skills “Are you sure you still want to be a pirate?” You asked her, smile wide “I can be a pirate AND a stylist” she winked

You decided to head back to the Sunny, inevitably insecurity made its way trough your stomach, you still weren’t ready to face Sanji about whatever the hell he had going on. You arrived and to your surprise there was no sight of him, you thought he was keeping an eye on the ship… you payed it no mind and went to your room to cool off for the day. After putting your shopping away, you decided to slip on the red sundress and have a little picnic by yourself, picking the fresh fruit from your garden and reading while sitting in the sunset sounded like a perfect plan for you… but it seemed like someone beat you to it.

As you walked closer to the garden delicious smells filled your senses, it made you close your eyes in enjoyment and took in a big breath, confused but curious you looked for the source of the smell. There standing next to two beautiful plated dinners in a picnic blanket, a rose and a candle in the middle of the food and drinks already poured in was Sanji, who played with nervous hands with the ring you had gifted him that now hanged form his neck. He looked handsomely dressed in coincidentally a red satin shirt, buttons loosened up, sleeves were up showing his strong arms, formal black pants and he had gelled his hair back enough to show both of his ocean blue eyes that enchanted you and most importantly no cigarette in sight! “Sanji? What the hell is happening?” The blonde cook surely didn’t expected you to show up in such a beautiful dress, mouth agape he stuttered “I.. uhm” you got closer and dismissed the book in your hands, now you really could witness how nervous the man was, cheeks and ears red and shaky breath.

You looked… upset? confused? Sanji couldn’t place the look in your face, he was already nervous looking at you and now he felt sick as he witnessed your brows scrunch together at his sight “I made this for you” was all he could let out, but you couldn’t even look at the scenery as you frantically searched for his gaze “Are you serious?” You let out a sarcastic laugh “You really think I’m just gonna ignore the fact you suddenly started to avoid me like the plague and was just overall rude to me just because you did a picnic for me?!” What? “What?” He didn’t understand what was happening, him rude? To you? That sounded atrocious. All around you the plants in the garden grew and surrounded your figure “I am not just one of your lady friends thats gonna fall for your stupid games Sanji. If you really think you can just ignore me because you got bored of me and then try and win me back with a flirty date night you’re out of your mind”

Then everything clicked in the cooks mind, he had indeed messed up. He had been planing this whole thing for so long, down to every last detail that being around you made him nervous and he would’ve quite probably spoiled everything, so he didn’t notice how to you, who had no clue about what was happening, his behavior may have came across as rude. You shook your head, you didn’t even wanted answers anymore “This is stupid” as you tried to turn around and leave, Sanji stopped you by pulling your wrist which made you stumble into his embrace; as he held you close you could listen to his heart and swore you could feel it against your own skin, it was pounding like crazy “It would be impossible for me to treat you like a simple fling my love, for me you’re my forever”

Now the one nervous and embarrassed was you, his voice echoed through his chest as you started to realize what was actually going on, the plants that once surrounded you now gone “I was so busy trying to make this picnic perfect for you that I didn’t notice how I was acting, the mere thought of you made my heart stop” you stepped back a little to look at his face, Oh~ “I’m really really stupid aren’t I?” You whispered as your face matched the color of both your garments, your head had played terrible tricks on you, the blonde just laughed “Sunlight, were both stupid” time seemed to had stopped around you, Sanji had positioned one hand in your lower back while the other held your face, yours intertwined with his chest. Suddenly everything seemed to make sense, you were supposed to he right there right in that moment; In the Sunny that held your dearest memories and favorite people, with waves that crashed in like an old tune, in your sacred garden your safe place, sunset shining from behind the man you had poured your heart out to making him look like a being of light and warmth, you had dreamt of this “You know what would be pretty stupid of us?” your lips brushed as you stand on your tip toes “If we didn’t kissed” you said before closing the space between you.

And finally you kissed him, like a so long awaited promise you had made yourselves finally coming true, your hands traveled to the back of his neck to deepened the kiss, as if you didn’t wanted him to run away. Your breaths danced with the breeze of the ocean as your hearts felt finally full, flowers bloomed from your head and hands inter-wining Sanji with you. You gasped for air and broke the kiss, your eyes immediately looking for one another, comfortable silence and sweet smiles in front of the sunset was all that could be heard, before Sanji spoke “Could you please break this spell you’ve casted upon me, and please be mine?”

“Yes, yes I can”

And finally you could confidently say that you are not afraid to love, as long as it’s him

˖°𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧.𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Omg I wrote this like 3 different times but here it is they finally said it WOOO. Like always feel free to suggest scenarios for these two idiots and correct me if I made any mistakes English is not my first language 🫶🏻

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

The worst opening ceremony ever

That’s because you’re looking at it all wrong. The opening ceremonies are incomparable, for a whole list of reasons:

The economic and financial situations, both in the country that’s hosting and for the entire world.

The country hosts

The creative and production teams involved in putting on the shows.

Geopolitical tensions and issues of the times

The athletes involved

You’re expecting 2008 production value in a 2024 world that’s dealing with different economic crises, two very significant wars with WW3 breakout potential, and a rising far-right/return to dictatorship. It’s incomparable.

You have to look at the opening ceremonies as their own standalone unit. And when you consider last night’s spectacle that way, it was actually a tremendous success:

Arson shut down most of the French trains and there were enormous fears of what it meant for the ceremony, but it went off without a hitch.

It rained the whole time, but all the performers still made good performances, no one was injured, and everyone made it.

Celine Dion made her first major public singing appearance while dealing with a huge medical condition. If you don’t know the significance of Celine Dion to the French or the song that she performed, then just be awed by her commitment to turn up, IN THE FREAKING RAIN, on TOP of the Eiffel Tower to perform. Who cares if she lip-synced? It was raining! She showed up anyway, with every right to demand the performance be relocated to the flat ground under cover.

The athletes all had a good time and were excited.

The cityscapes during the torch relay showed off Paris’s incredible architecture and skyline. Name any other city that can do that and have it be so meaningful.

The bells of Notre Dame rang for the first time in 5 years, they gave credit to all the workers and trades/crafts that have been restoring and repairing the cathedral, and gave an homage to the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

There was a lady in a croissant costume. A CROISSANT costume!

They had a choir of headless Marie Antoinettes accompanying a heavy metal band that was performing AT the very same prison she was held captive at.

They lit a piano on FIRE and floated it down the Seine while performing “Imagine.”

They acknowledged France’s bloody, violent history without it being preachy or sentimental. (Watch the LA 2028 ceremony ignore the US’s bloody history - I guarantee you it’ll highlight our melting pot culture but it won’t even touch on the oppression, slavery, Civil Rights era, or how indigenous peoples were treated, much like the London 2012 ceremony didn’t acknowledge Britain’s bloody history.)

They highlighted all the ways that French culture contributed to the global community; music, literature, love, fashion and Coco Chanel pink, Louis Vuitton, the Eiffel Tower, croissants, the minions, and French people’s contributions to modern sport (as well as foreign success in French sport).

The homage to Assassin’s Creed, the Phantom of the Opera, and other famous masked French figures in the torch relay and flag-bearers.

They had an opera singer dressed as the French flag singing the national anthem from a sloped rooftop over the stadium in the rain. I had literal chills, y’all. It can’t get more patriotic than that.

Organizers made statues of important French women to display during the ceremony and they’re DONATING all of them to Paris after the Olympics! I don’t know if you caught it, but the male-to-female representation in Paris’s statues is 4.5:1 (over 200 male statues, just 40ish female statues). It’s an incredible start towards gender equality in Parisian and French history that a lot of countries could take a note from.

Les Mis! Who doesn’t love a good musical interlude?! Especially one introducing a segment paying tribute to the French Revolution. (And I must admit, I’m now kinda expecting LA 2028 to have a Hamilton nod.)

The image of Assassin’s Creed with the dove wings behind her as she walked up.

All the athletes running together for the final torch relay - more chills! (Usually that doesn’t happen.)

Raising the Olympic cauldron by hot air balloon so everyone could see.

That amazing light show from the Eiffel Tower.

and so much more.

Yeah, the can-can line was sloppy and the audio quality was poor, the parade of nations took forever (they always take forever though) and no one understood the order they were coming in (because it wasn’t explained until *after* the ceremony that the upcoming hosts are also at the end) and there’s a ton people offended by the threesome and the drag queens on the grounds of religious morality (you can see my reaction to that criticism in the earlier post below), but overall, all things considered? Considering the entire 4-5 hour show, in the spectacle that is Paris, with a terrible weather forecast, in the unprecedented geopolitical times we’re in?

It was a kick-ass opening ceremony.

[pinksatinsashes]

The Dream Girl's Guide to Setting and Achieving Goals

If there's one thing that I am insanely good at, it's planning and setting goals.

However I have not always been great at achieving them.

Call it laziness, lack of self discipline or being over ambitious, you can take your pick. But every year I would set goals and every year I would never achieve them.

This year I was, and am determined to transform. I'm tired of putting it off. I've tried a completely different method (read about that here) and it's finally working out, I cant't wait to share it with you.

Why is Setting and Achieving Goals Important?

Setting and achieving goals will forever be important, no matter what stage of life you're in if you don't want time to pass while you stay in the same place.

If you're happy staying exactly as you are, looking the same way, doing the same thing everyday, making the same money, dating the same guy or having the same conversations, year after year after year. Then this post simply isn't for you.

But for the rest of us, who want more, who understand that wanting something different means that you have to do something different, who want to grow, learn and develop and that who understand that time is the most valuable thing that we have; setting and achieving things, day after day, month after month and year after year is insanely important.

If you are one of us, I'm sure you already knew that, the issue might be actually following through.

You're good at setting goals, not so much with actually achieving them?

Maybe it's not your fault, maybe you're just doing it wrong.

------------- How To Set Goals -------------

How many of us start the new year, or the random day that we decide we need to be better by writing a list of Goals?

Maybe that list looks something like this.

Lose 10lbs

Grow Hair Longer

Dress Better

Save Money

Get 1000 followers on X platform

Can you see the problem here? My STEM girlies are yelling at the screen saying that the goals aren't SMART (Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Timely).

The real problem?

All of these goals are end products.

And to eliminate this problem, and make these goals better, we have to turn them into habits.

-------- How to turn Goals into Habits --------

Let's go through our list again.

Lose 10lbs -> Workout 4 times a week, do one form of excerise a day and eat at a caloric deficit.

Grow Hair Longer -> Keep hair in protective styles, use hair growth oils daily, only brush hair when in conditioner

Dress Better -> Sell the clothes I don't like to buy clothes I do like, do a closet clear out once a month, only buy things that are high quality

Save Money -> Budget all money once a month, unsubscribe from things I no longer use, declutter and sell things I no longer need once a month.

Get 1000 followers on X platform -> Post 3 times a week, create meaningful content, reply to all comments left on posts daily, interact with posts from others in the sam niche every day

Can you see the difference?

By changing your goals from the end product to the process these goals suddenly mean more. They're more helpful and seem much more achievable.

End goals cannot always be controlled, you can do everything right, post 3 times a week, reply to all your comments and your following count may still not change for months... then all of a sudden something goes viral and they'll call you an overnight success.

By shifting your focus to the things you can control, rather than the end product, your sense of achievement comes from your consistency and hard work, allowing you to keep going even when you don't see any changes.

This prevents you from giving up when success could be just around the corner.

-------- How To Achieve Your Goals --------

Now that we've gone through how to set Goals, lets talk about how to achieve them.

A lot of people just stop at the first part and never think about the things that they can do to ensure that their goals are met.

Never stop at the list.

Why?

You have no initiative to ever look at this list again so you'll most likely forget you even wrote them down in a few weeks

You haven't factored how your life may make achieving these goals a priority.

The answer to this problem?

Turning your Habits into Routines.

It's all well and good setting goals, even setting good goals. But you also need to make sure that you're creating an environment that's conducive to the goals you want to achieve, the habits you want to keep, and the life you want to create.

------- How to turn Habits into Routines ------

We've written down all our goals, turned them into habits and now it's time of the most important part, turning them into routines.

This is important because consistency is key, always. Instead of saying that you'll do something 3 times a week and leaving at that, let's go deeper.

Which days of the week will you do it? What time? For how long?

Leaving it up to chance is risky. What if you forget?

We need to create consistent routines.

Pick which days to do your habits

Pick what time you'll do your habits

Pick how long you'll do them for

Pick what you'll do before and after.

Try to make this as consistent as possible, for example, same time every day, same day every week.

Make sure that every single hour is accounted for, even if it's just set as free time.

Its easy to convince yourself you don't have enough time to do things, let's put all the things you have to do into a spreadsheet with how long it'll take and when you'll do it. Better yet we can use a calendar app or website.

See all the free time you've got?

Now creating routine is so much more than writing it down and doing it everyday or every week. At first you may have to check the app every five seconds to see what you're meant to be doing but if you stay consistent, after a few weeks it'll become second nature.

------------ Removing Distractions ----------

Organising your time and creating a routine is really eye-opening because it gives you a chance to wonder what the f*** you've been spending your time doing.

Nothing productive probably. Take a look at your screentime, what apps are you spending your time on? How long are you spending? Is this part of the life you'd like to build for yourself?

It might be time for a break.

I am being so honest when I said that getting rid of every single distraction that could be keeping me from my goal was the single most important decision I could've made when planning 2024.

I went full on, no Netflix, no YouTube, no music, no games, no social media. No distractions. For at least the first month of my new routine and I plan on only adding everything back slowly.

I advise you do the same.

Remove the things that you can see could distract you from your goals. What's keeping you from going to bed early? What would you rather do than going to the gym?

I'm telling you, I haven't stopped working on myself, because I genuinely have nothing better to do. I've cut all the distractions out. Going on my one hour walk is now what I look forward to all day. The gym is the best part of my day.

My days currently consist of self improvement, wellness podcasts, reading Jane Austen, being active, cleaning my spaces, skincare and early nights.

But it feels like I'm living my dream life? Whenever I think of my ideal day it's never included 4 hours of mindless scrolling or spending 2 hours down a YouTube rabbit hole.

When I think of my dream life it's always been home cooked meals, reading and fancy skincare routines. I couldn't be happier and I really don't feel like I'm missing out on anything.

TRY IT.

This is probably the most important step because the power that distractions have on us is so real.

You can do all the planning and have the best intentions but if your want to play games, scroll mindlessly on social media, text a guy that doesn't care about you or engage in celebrity drama is greater than your want to be better? Good Luck Charlie.

---- Making Your Goal Your Obsession ----

This is actually the fun part.

All I do is listen to podcasts about my goal, read books about my goals, make pinterest boards about my goals and talk to myself about my goals. I'm so obsessed.

Make a reading list, find some podcasts that align with your goals, follow blogs with the same mindset, talk to those of your friends that will get it.

This makes sure that nothing can distract you, and you can't just 'forget' to work towards your goal.

However, you must not let your time obsessing over your goal be more than your time actually working on your goal. Do not forget that.

------------- Books that could help ------------

Atomic Habits by James Clear

Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport

----- May the odds be ever in your favour.. -----

[cafejulii]

I was scrolling through instagram and came across that one scene of Kurapika repeatedly punching Chrollo while on route to make the trade off with the phantom troupe, a scene that though is not canon in the manga nor 2011 anime, is in hxh 1999. I went to the comments to see what others had to say on this addition, and was disheartened to find many fans unanimously coming to the agreement, especially because of this particular scene, that the main difference between Kurapika's characterization in 1999 vs. 2011 is that he's fundamentally "more childish" or "isn't able to keep his anger repressed as well"; rhetoric that I personally couldn’t disagree with more, respectfully.

I must say, they are correct about one thing though, in my opinion; Kurapika in the 1999 version is indeed characterized differently. All of the main four are. Its actually one of the main reasons why I prefer hxh 1999 despite not it not being fully accurate to cannon with the addition of several non-canonical scenes and dialogues. Such scenarios looked upon the original narrative given, estimated what would be the missing pieces in between in order to get to the current picture, and then used a combination of both the filler and original cannon to create characters who are consequently much more dynamic than their original counterparts. All the creators have done was really just set off on a proper set of chain of events in the plot to follow their development.

(In short, hxh 1999 is akin to a very well written, cannon compliant, fanficton with a very specific focus on character study through its additional scenes)

This is one of the many reasons why I find this scene particularly meaningful, as it serves as a direct expansion on Kurapika's characterization. Kurapika is the sort to scrutinize every action he makes based on his self imposed moral structure. We see this aspect of him made clear in the hunter exam, in which Leorio asks him if he's really willing to go to the depths it would take to become a blacklist hunter, knowing this fact about him just simply from the way he talked about hunters, and why, he found becoming a hunter just for the money, unjust. Kurapika, in response, assures him, that he will do anything, no matter if he deems it morally impermissible, if it meant to find and enact his revenge on the Spiders. However, when it came time to follow through with his statement, there is an inherent hesitation made or a flat out failure to act upon it. The very first instance of this is seen when it came time for him to kill the prisoner in trick tower so that he may advance past the third phase of the exam, resulting in a further advancement to his goal as quickly as possible.

He flat out refused to do so, despite it being the easiest most logical thing to do. The man was knocked out unconscious after all. And of course, Kurapika did state that he'd be willing to do anything. So then, why didn't he do it?

Because to him, killing in any circumstance is wrong. He creates a moral paradox for himself:

Cause of Revenge= morality->guilt-> duty

Execution of revenge= duty-> abandonment of morality-> guilt

And moreover, he is horribly self aware of this fact. He knows that discarding pieces of morality for the sake of his mission will fundamentally change him. His duty will never bring him peace and he knows it. In fact, it is the opposite, for he knows it will torment him relentlessly to the point in which he either breaks, or instead, he will become apathetic to it all. The later is the result he strives for though, as to follow through with his mission, he needs to be complicit in the face of evil.

But throughout the narrative, time and time again, it is evident that such moral sentiments never leave him. Sure, he works as a body guard for some of the most notorious criminals in the underworld, so rotten that Melody even goes as far to describe them as "devils", but fails to abandon his paradox. For Christ's sake, he even said in this particular version, that he found the sounds of pain Uvogin made while dying to be so abhorrent to the point, he couldn’t fathom how Uvo does it does it at; nonetheless without feeling any form of remorse. Kurapika loathes violence so greatly that he feels revolted in partaking in it, even if it is towards the person in which inflicted violence on him first. This displays that, to an extent, he held pity for Uvo, not in the sense that he regrets his actions but in the sense they had to be done at all, yet bares this sin for the sake of his brethren. But at the heart of it, especially since so little was gained for his overall mission, he falls to the gripping weight of his actions due to the breach of morality and it overtakes him for a brief moment.

But afterwards, he must carry on regardless if he likes it or not. He must continue up until the point in which he feels indifference to every morally abhorrent thing he has to do for the sake of his mission. Yet of course, he is not there yet, and because of this it only rightfully expected that his anger would boil over due to his moral turmoil, only for him to retreat in a sort of shame directly after doing so, realizing this part of the cycle he signed up for.

And this is why he rages at Chrollo. It's simply a part of this said cycle.

He punches him repeatedly, not only for the murder of his people, but the choices that he had to make as a result of the slaughter; that he was forced to create this paradox and resort to vengeful duty in which can only be fulfilled by measures of violence. The repeated punches, to me, are not done for the sake of incapacitation or for killing Chrollo (after all he couldn't have as that would mean that Gon and Killua's lives would be lost and it's apparent he'd never allow that) but as to give the biggest "fuck you for being so senselessly violent and cruel that in order for me to enact a properly weighted vengeance for my people that I must become just as senselessly violent, just as senselessly cruel, as you are."

Utilizing violence to mourn against the use of violence; this act is the pinnacle of it. A genius, visual representation of his profound moral conflict created for the audience. This is why this scene was so impactful. This is why this scene was needed.

[tobi-smp]

you know, I think the reason why there's a lot of strange takes about c!wilbur is that not enough people in this fandom have kids (be that actually being a parent or just being responsible for someone younger than you in some way).

"wilbur had absolutely no obligation to take care of tommy/fundy/tubbo, and in fact it's a Good thing that he left them because he's mentally ill"

is a take that Always reads as strange, but instantly drives off a cliff when you actually take care of kids.

don't get me wrong, I relate to wilbur a Lot. he's an extremely important character to me.

but what's being described here is called Child Neglect. fundy is wilbur's actual son, tommy and wilbur both consider each other brothers, and tubbo is Tommy's brother while wilbur considers himself responsible for him in some way.

All wilburians recognize that wilbur felt responsible for the people in l'manberg and pogtopia, how he agonized over not feeling good enough. and that's Extremely relatable As someone who is mentally ill and in charge of a child.

taking care of a child At All is hard, double so when you're mentally ill. when you're struggling to take care of Yourself but still feel responsible for the lives of other people. when you have to meet needs for somebody else that you can't meet for yourself.

but you can't just like. choose not to take care of your children anymore and have that just be neutral.

sometimes you need to make Choices, you need to rest, you need to take care of yourself. that is all true. but you can't fully disengage from Being a parent without it fucking up your kids.

he Can leave certainly, but he can't do that without it affecting his relationships. he can't do that without it hurting people. and Realistically he can't do that without hurting himself, considering he's cutting himself off from every support he has and going to work minimum wage where nobody knows him.

which simply would not help my mental health if it were me.

and I think some people who see themselves in wilbur don't like that, because it doesn't feel Fair. to have responsibilities for other people when you're barely scraping by. to feel like a bad person for trying to take care of yourself. but that's why having kids is Hard. it's not for everybody, though you don't always get the choice.

and it's exactly Because of that that I think wilbur is extremely interesting representation for mental health, And exactly why I don't like boundless sands as an ending.

because that position that wilbur represents is Real. spiraling over feeling like you can't be what you need to be while Knowing that you Have to be there anyways is an Extremely common thing with mentally ill parents. l'manberg as a Family is real and has always been real.

and the fact that it's Difficult and Complex is the point ! wilbur hurt the people who love him most, and yet those people still love him, still need him, still Want him.

yes wilbur is representation of a mentally ill person, but more than that he is representation of a mentally ill Parent. and that distinction is Meaningful. I also think that distinction isn't as relatable to the very much so younger audience of the dream smp.

of course, that take is Also blanket weird as hell because unlike real life (I hope) the people that wilbur left behind were being hunted by a serial killer and then exploded. it's not a good move for his mental health on account of his entire family did very much so explode and die.

[drdemonprince]

In reading your latest piece, I think I've stumbled onto something akin to a personal epiphany. You describe transition as an act of "want" (Chu's longing for gossip and yours for the life of an eternal bachelor) and I've realized that I think as a consequence of growing up autistic, I've obliterated the concept of personal want. I don't know if I truly ever want anything? How do I even know what I truly want (versus what other people tell me I should want)? Is there an opposite of resentment I can tune into so I can tell what I want when my conscious mind is unable to provide me an answer?

I think the place is to start with what you don't want. What I describe as "wanting the bachelor life forever" in my piece is actually a desire born out of negation: I don't want kids, I don't want marriage, I don't want responsible adulthood and the weight that that carries, I want to feel free-roaming and open to random experiences. What i knew most viscerally for myself was what felt wrong, and owning up to those feelings no matter how socially inconvenient they might be was what made it possible for me to articulate what I proactively did find desirable.

I recommend rejecting a lot of things, disappointing a lot of people, being disobedient, setting boundaries, all of that stuff that I have been writing about for a very long time (check out the pieces on those subjects if you haven't already, but from the sound of it you probably have). And then when it comes to positively desiring things, you've got to start small. Find a little thing to look forward to every day, or every week. In my household, Wednesdays and Fridays are Dunkin Donuts days. Instead of making coffee at home, you get a little treat. That makes getting a coffee out of the house still feel precious and special while also making it attainable, and gives the work week a little horizon to peak over at its mid point.

I so look forward to the weekly streams on Friday with @testdevice, too. Afterward I usually get a meal somewhere and then go out for some kind of weekend activity -- drinking and watching Drag Race at Roscoe's, a movie, dancing, whatever. I make forming plans for the weekend a task I set out for myself at the top of every week. I find street festivals, concerts, craft fairs, protests, little things to do that I know will be meaningful to me. Small pleasures parceled out on a regular schedule provide a pleasing structure to life. It makes the forward march of time feel more exciting and keeps daily life from being defined by obligation and drudgery. Sometimes it's something like playing a video game at home or meeting up at a friend's house for a movie night and snacks. However you can swing it, you gotta have little things to look forward to, I think, in order to enjoy being alive and to get into the habit of thinking more expansively about what you want. you can making finding things that you want to do a regular project, a practice.

A lot of life is experimenting with new experiences and relationships with other people to find out what you actually like. It's not some profound act of introspection. People block themselves off from a lot of meaningful aspects of life by thinking the answers come from plumbing the depths of their soul and finding their true calling or true desire divorced from everything else. There is no self outside of experience and social connection.

And so the best way to find out what you want is to try a lot of different things. Go watch your friend at their competitive poker tournament. Volunteer to clean litter off the beach. Foster a bunny rabbit. Make a casserole. Darn a sock. Buy some handmade jewelry. Visit a museum with a coworker you kinda might like the company of. Invite someone over for dinner. How it plays out and how you feel about it is all data about the kind of person you are becoming.

I also wouldn't get too bogged down in the idea that wants can only come from the pursuit of happiness. I got a few really well intentioned asks this week that I never answered about what brings me joy, what makes me happy. Truth is, I'm not someone who experiences happiness easily and i might never be. That is okay. I still have a life that holds meaning because I AM very good at finding things interesting. i like talking to people, learning from them, watching things play out in real time.

You don't have to feel some kind of abiding soul connection to an activity or sense that a way of life will absolutely make you happy in order for it to interest you, help you grow, bring your life meaning. Other people might not want to read long history books about genocide and the social construction of race in order to bring their life pleasure, but those activities engage my mind and make me feel more firmly rooted in the actual world. they're interesting and rewarding to study, and so i do it. i say yes to a lot of invitations purely because i've never seen what horse racing is like or because i want to see if i'll still get nauseated if i ride a boat now as an adult. it's interesting. it might not make me happy or be fun. but i like a life better with those experiences. those are the things i gravitate to and want. and you can find what you want, too, and it will always keep changing probably.

[caxyanalysis]

Thinking about how Homelander is actually so fucking tragic.

Raised to be the symbol of patriotism. Won the superpower lottery. Durable enough that a nuclear bomb wouldn't kill him, fast enough that nothing can outpace him, full freedom from gravity because of flight, laser vision that he can control the strength of to such a fine degree that he could cook popcorn or cauterize your brain in half and it's not even hard for him to do.

All of this, together, make him a god among men.

And it's so.

Fucking.

Boring.

And it's tragic, too.

It is.

I know, I know, "he's a fascist!!!" I get it, and you're right.

But look at what he's been through.

He was raised in a lab. No parents besides the scientists that studied him to figure out what he could and couldn't survive, what would and wouldn't hurt him, what he was capable of and how he could be useful.

At every turn, he was denied human connection in any meaningful way. His father was never in the picture, his mother was dead, he existed solely as a test subject, and as soon as he was old enough to be on TV, they wheeled him out like a shiny new toy and said "Look! It's the embodiment of America! The peak of human evolution!"

He has never, EVER known anything except two concepts: Fear and Blind Adoration.

The people who love him don't love HIM, they love the idea he represents. The people who know him fear him with all they have.

Spoilers for The Boys below

He finally meets someone who doesn't fear him, and claims to love him, and it's Stillwell. She doesn't fear him. But he doesn't realize the reason she doesn't fear him is because she thinks she has him under control. A little mommy-play here, a little milk there, and he's docile. She thinks she has him in her pocket.

But then she slips up. And out comes the truth. She's never loved him. Ever. She has always, always hated him, always been afraid of him. And suddenly all those happy memories of the only mother-figure he's ever known are tainted, ruined by the idea that she would have rather had him be dead than ever touch her, but she did what she felt she had to do so he would be a good boy.

And he doesn't understand. He was a good boy, wasn't he? His heart was in the right place, wasn't it? He only did what he thought would make her happy, and he tried to be have his best when she asked, didn't he? So why did she hate him so much? Why was she so afraid of him?

And it tears him up inside. It destroys him. He feels hurt, and angry, and scared, and it burns him up until that heat has nowhere to go but out.

And he kills her. And it kills him.

It's with Stillwell's death we see him truly change. He stops being the boy scout, in his own eyes. He just killed someone who meant everything to him. He killed someone he thought genuinely cared about him, saw him as good, and loved.

We watch him die right alongside her, and in that moment he performs one last act of kindness as he loses the final shred of hope in his heart: he saves Billy Butcher and makes sure that Stillwell's baby survives as well.

We see another kick in the head when he visits his "creator", the man in charge of the Homelander experiment that gave birth to him. And this man says he is nothing but a failure. A living embodiment of all that man did wrong, and all that man failed to achieve. He says that Homelander is nothing but one big failed experiment, and is his greatest regret in life.

Flash ahead. He's unchained, mostly. Edgar is still in control of him, but Edgar doesn't care enough to tug the leash. He expects Homelander to tie his own chain, and if he doesn't, then Edgar will yank it and choke the bastard for all he's worth until he sits, heels, like a good little attack dog.

And for the most part this works. Homelander stays under Edgar's radar, his descent hardly noticed, because he doesn't do anything that Vaught can track that he wouldn't have done before Stillwell's death.

All the while, mourning the loss of the only person to ever even pretend to care about him.

And then we meet Ryan, and realize who he is.

And when Homelander learns he has a son, we see something special, something that, until now, didn't seem possible.

We see the light come back into his eyes.

We see him start to hope again.

A son. The perfect opportunity to do better, to prove he is, in fact, a good man. If he can just do right by Ryan, if he can raise him right, be a good dad to him, show him the love, and compassion, and care that he never knew, then Ryan could grow up happy. Well-adjusted. We see that Homelander fully recognizes how broken and mangled a man he is.

Homelander wants Ryan to turn out better than him. He wants Ryan to turn out happier than him.

And we watch Stormfront ruin that pure, beautiful desire.

Stormfront corrupts him. He's vulnerable, he's weak-minded, after Stillwell. He knows what he wants, but he doesn't know how to do it or why, he knows what he desires, but he can't have it. And then Stormfront gives it to him. A supe who can not only take what he can dish out, but give it back just as well. A supe who sees him as good. A supe who seems to love him, truly.

She doesn't.

She, like all of his fans, loves WHAT he is, loves the IDEA of him, not Homelander himself.

He's blond, blue-eyed, white, and an omnipotent powerhouse.

And Stormfront is a nazi. How could she not love what he is and what he represents?

She manipulates him, turns him against his own idea of wanting to be good and convinces him that this brattiness, this pettiness, this immature need to be better than everyone is not a flaw, it's his birthright.

And Ryan is the product of that birthright. Ryan does not need to be better than Homelander, Ryan needs to learn from Homelander, learn to rule, to subjugate, because Homelander is a God, one who should rule the Earth, and Ryan is his Prince, destined to take over one day.

All of this is instilled into Homelander through Stormfront's manipulations. And on the one day every year that he's allowed to be treated like a person, the one day every year he gets a taste of humanity...

She does the one thing that would guarantee her lies stick like glue.

She dies.

She rips away the last person he ever thought he would have to live without, on the one day he never expected to be hurt on.

And we see that light, the one Ryan reignited, flicker.

He gets angry. He gets bitter. He realizes that, aside from Ryan, he is entirely peerless. Alone.

And Ryan must be nurtured, yes? Guided, right? Stormfront wanted the world for Ryan, and Homelander wants the best for his son, and so the world is exactly what Ryan will get. Homelander no longer cares about himself. He doesn't.

Homelander cannot be selfish past this point; he could drop dead then and there and as long as Ryan has the world in his palm, Homelander would die happy.

But he can't die. He won't die. Ryan needs him. Ryan deserves a father. Ryan deserves Homelander's life, his attention, his dedication.

And we see spots of vanity, yes. The preening, the pruning of grey hairs, the bitterness over his noticeable aging.

But these are not the same as selfishness. These are things integral to Homelander. He's supposed to be a God. God's don't age, why is he aging? It's so disgustingly human. That's what he thinks.

But it gives him a sense of urgency. He doesn't know how long he has. A year? Ten? Twenty? A hundred? Two hundred? More? Nobody knows, with supes. Some don't age at all, others age too fast, others age slowly, and Homelander is already a one-in-a-million fluke. Who's to say he won't suddenly age fifty years in the span of the next ten? Who's to say he'll ever age beyond what he is now?

He doesn't know. And he can't control it. He can't fight it. He can't change it. He has to prepare for the possibility he hates most.

He has to prepare for his death.

But then he learns who his father is. He learns that his father is alive, even. Soldier Boy, the idea that inspired Homelander. And he has to meet the man, has to introduce Ryan to his grandfather. We see that light in his eyes grow, because now he doesn't just have a son, he has a father.

The father he needed.

And when he finally meets him, finally gets face-to-face with the man who could so easily give him everything he ever wanted, the man who could fix him, show him what it means to be a parent...

He's rejected.

Soldier Boy tells him that he's pathetic, that he's nothing, that he's hardly even a man. Even the suit Homelander is so proud of isn't free from insult, with Soldier Boy saying "Look at you...You're wearing a goddamn cape..."

He has nothing but disappointment for what Homelander is, and resentment for the way Homelander was raised, but sees him as too far gone, too broken, too weak to fix. The only cure is death.

And once again, we see that light flicker.

He needs to be better than this man, DO better than this man.

And that means securing Ryan's place atop the world. This is why he calls in Sister Sage. Sister Sage is so incredibly intelligent, so beautifully smart, she can guarantee things he would never even figure out are possible. And, begrudgingly, he accepts her help.

But her help isn't giving him what he really wants most, because while putting Ryan atop the pyramid is his end goal, he wants Ryan's love just as badly. He wants to see the fruits of his efforts, to know that what he's doing is good and right, that it's best for Ryan.

And Ryan is showing him, at every turn, that it's not right.

Homelander kills for Ryan, and Ryan doesn't like it.

Homelander makes Ryan the object of public adoration, and Ryan doesn't like it.

Homelander is glad Billy's dying, and Ryan doesn't like it.

Everything Homelander does for Ryan, every effort he makes, is torn apart by the fact that Ryan doesn't want any of it. He wants a dad, not a coach, he wants a parent, not an instructor.

He wants a life, not godhood.

And Homelander has been so corrupted, so broken, so destroyed by every single person in his life that he cannot understand that.

To him, godhood and life are one and the same. Being alive is not a right, in his eyes, it is something that is deserved, earned, a reward, and he is the man to impress, he is the man to earn it from, and one day that man will be Ryan, and why can't Ryan see any of that?

None of this is in defense of Homelander. But I can't see one side of anything without seeing every other side of it.

And in Homelander's mind, he has done everything he can to be loved, to be appreciated, to be known and cared about...

And every single time, his power has caused people to hate him, to fear him. The only love he's ever known is that of the public and that of his son, and with every outburst, every conflict of interests, he is slowly losing that more and more.

And every time Ryan runs away from him, every time Ryan cries because of him, every time Ryan frowns over something Homelander has done, every human Ryan mourns, is a slap in the face. Water on the fire.

And we see that light drain from his eyes a little more each time.

I don't believe anything Homelander has done is justified.

But I do believe that, in his shoes, with his life, under all of the same circumstances...

I believe most of us would be no different than he is.

Broken.

Betrayed.

Abused.

Lashing out at every reminder of the pains of our existence.

A scared, angry child, with the power of a god, who was never shown that a better way does exist.

A wounded animal conditioned from birth to hate humans for what they did to it.

Homelander is tragic.

And I feel so very sorry for him.