#I'm not feeling that great the last few weeks
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voxofthevoid · 2 days ago
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*banging pots and pans together* Goyuu gremlins, come get y'all fucking juice.
I say this as if I'm not inundating you in goyuu every week, but Gojou has been conspicuously absent from my current WIP for...10 chapters and over 70k words. A major character and one half of the endgame ship, and he shows up halfway through the story—JJK has got me making more and more novel (in terms of my writing) narrative choices with each fic.
Gotta say, it feels great to get back into writing Gojou. Last time I tackled him was at the end of September, for the fem!Gojou no-powers oneshot. The necrofic from October beginning has a lot of Gojou, sure, but he's a...well, a corpse. Sinking back into goyuu banter and interactions felt like coming home.
Now, here's Demon/Hunter Horror Wednesday #9, featuring Gojou Sluttoru Satoru in the flesh.
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There’s a man on the platform.
It’s the height that startles Yuuji first. He’s freakishly tall. The tallest person Yuuji’s seen—unless he counts Sukuna, which he won’t. Besides, this guy’s all legs, and it’s weirdly fascinating how they move, smooth and graceful under shiny pants reflecting the platform lights. They eat up the platform with long, languid strides, getting closer and closer and—
Yuuji blinks, dragging his eyes from the man’s legs to a face that’s a lot closer than he expects, even though he has to crane his neck to make eye contact—kind of. The man’s wearing sunglasses, those thick black ones that show nothing of what’s underneath, so Yuuji just ends up staring at his own distorted reflection.
His eyes are wide, his mouth a little open. Yuuji closes it, his teeth clicking together.
The height isn’t the only startling thing about the man. His hair is a shock of white, messy strands covering his forehead and even falling over the sunglasses. And Yuuji’s got no leg to stand on when it comes to people with eye-catching coloring, but there’s still something about this man that makes it hard to look away.
“Hi?” he offers warily.
“Hello,” comes the answer, immediate and cheerful. “You a local?”
“Uh, yeah? I guess.”
A tilt of the head. Those snowy strands shift with mesmerizing motions. “That’s not very reassuring.”
“Why…am I reassuring you?”
The man claps, once. “Good point! You’re not a serial killer, are you?”
Yuuji’s so confused. “No?”
“Hmm, you don’t sound very sure about that either.” The man leans closer, which involves a lot of bending. Yuuji blinks at his reflection in the glasses, which blinks right back. “Nah, you’re too cute to be a serial killer.”
“Thanks, I think. Who are you?”
“Gojou Satoru!” The man declares, straightening up and sticking out an arm. “And who are you, my young, uncertain friend?”
Yuuji takes the proffered hand. It’s big, almost swallowing his whole hand when it closes around it. There’s warmth too, seeping boldly into his flesh.
“Itadori Yuuji,” he introduces himself. “I’m very confused.”
“I did get that impression.”
“No, I mean, you’re—” Yuuji shakes his head. “Never mind. Why are you asking weird questions?”
“Hey now,” the man says, his lips pressing into a pout. They’re very shiny. And pink. “Those were very sensible questions. There’s no point asking for directions from a non-local, is there? And it’d be very unwise of me to put myself in the maw of a murderer.”
“Well,” Yuuji says, slightly less confused, “I’m not a murderer. And I do live here. Moved here a few months back. Pretty sure I can give you directions. To where?”
“A recent transplant. I see,” Gojou murmurs, his head still tilted slightly down. Despite the opaque glasses, Yuuji has the distinct sense of being looked at. “Would you happen to know the way to the Fushiguro household, Itadori Yuuji-kun?”
“Fushiguro?” Yuuji repeats. “You know him? Or are you here for Tōji-san?”
“Both,” Gojou says, his smile widening. The glossy gleam of his lips doesn’t hide how sharp the expression is, and for the first time, Yuuji really takes in the rest of his face—the chiseled jaw, the straight nose, the prominent cheekbones. A sharp face, but pretty too. Like Fushiguro’s, except that while Fushiguro’s soft around the edges, this man looks like he’ll cut if touched. “—to me?”
Yuuji blinks back to himself, trying and failing to make sense of what Gojou just said. “Huh?”
That smile grows even bigger, flashing a hint of very white teeth. “I asked if you’re listening to me?”
“Oh. No,” Yuuji admits. “Sorry?”
Gojou hums, tilting his head like a curious cat. “I don’t think you are. But I’ll forgive it if you’re a good boy and take me to the Fushiguros.”
Yuuji swallows, his throat very dry. “I could, but…”
“But?”
“How do I know you’re not a serial killer, Gojou-san?”
Gojou snorts. It’s an ugly sound, rough and nasal. Something inside Yuuji unclenches, like that’s the proof he needed that this guy is human and not some abnormally pretty dream he conjured up. It’d be a kinder dream than usual, but Yuuji can’t trust his imagination anymore.
“I’m too handsome for that, don’t you think?” Gojou asks, his grin grown lopsided.
“Yeah, but—” Yuuji makes a sweeping gesture with his free arm, covering Gojou as well as the rest of the platform. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“So there is a brain under all that pink fluff,” Gojou says, his tone weirdly approving.
“I don’t think you get to talk about anyone’s hair,” Yuuji points out, eyeing Gojou’s snow-white strands again.
But Gojou just tosses his hair like he’s in a shampoo commercial. “It’s all natural.”
“So is mine,” Yuuji says drily. “Not the point.”
“Oh? What is your point then?”
“Serial killing. I think.” Yuuji shakes his head. “Whatever. Yeah, I’ll take you to the Fushiguros’ place. Do anything weird and I’ll punch you.”
“Careful,” Gojou purrs. “I might be into that.”
Yuuji just looks at him for a moment, before taking in the rest of the platform with half a mind to foist this guy off on someone else. There’s no one, obviously. It’s not like this place is bustling even during what was the rush hour back at Sendai. Nanami and Yuuji were alone the entire time they waited, and he’s pretty sure no one but Gojou got off from the train.
Plus, he probably shouldn’t inflict this guy on anyone else. Yuuji doesn’t think he’s a bad person or anything, but he’s kinda weird. And Yuuji’s pretty immune to stranger danger.
Except when he walks into cursed churches.
“Come on then,” Yuuji says. “It’s getting late, and Tōji-san usually turns in early.”
Gojou’s lips and cheeks do something very weird. “Fushiguro Tōji has a bedtime.”
“Uh, not exactly—”
Yuuji’s cut off by demented laughter—full-on cackling, filling up the open air of the empty platform. All he can do is watch, nonplussed, until Gojou calms down, and even that’s startlingly abrupt, the noise stopping so suddenly that the resulting silence seems to boom.
“Sorry, sorry,” Gojou says, not sounding all that sincere. “That was just too funny. Guess the single dad life suits him.”
Yuuji thinks of what Fushiguro sounds like every time he has to talk about his dad. “I…wouldn’t say that. Anyway, you coming?”
“Sure,” Gojou says easily. “You going to let me go first, or are we holding hands the whole way?”
“What’re you—”
Yuuji realizes the answer before he even finishes the question, blinking down at his own hand—still clasped firmly around Gojou’s bigger one. He lets go quickly, snatching it back. For a moment, he doesn’t know what to do with it. Wiping it on his pants would be rude. And it’s not like Gojou’s palm was sweaty or anything. It was just warm, and Yuuji’s whole hand sparks like it’s stolen that heat for itself. He settles for folding his arms across his chest. 
Gojou looks entirely too amused. “Pity.”
“Don’t tease me,” Yuuji grumbles, hoping the heat on his face doesn’t actually show on the skin; he knows his odds though, and they’re not good. He’s about to march off, leaving Gojou to choose whether to follow, when something occurs to him. “Wait, are you…”
“Yes?” Gojou prods after a moment, that curling grin still in place.
Yuuji squints up at him, specifically the sunglasses. He doesn’t think Gojou’s blind. People wear sunglasses all the time, though he’s rarely seen ones so dark. And Gojou navigated the platform pretty easily earlier, no cane or anything. Still, the thought won’t leave his head, and Yuuji’s mind refuses to accept the vague sense of being watched as enough proof, so he asks, “Are you blind?”
“How blunt,” is Gojou’s response. “I like that in people.”
“That’s not—”
—an answer, Yuuji doesn’t say because Gojou proceeds to give him an answer, raising one long-fingered hand to pluck his sunglasses off.
A maelstrom of blue slams into Yuuji.
He’s seen blue eyes more than a few times. People he knew, people he passed in the street. Bright ones, dark ones. Then there’s Fushiguro, whose eyes act like some deep-sea trench, shifting from dark green to depthless blue based on the lighting and his mood.
But he’s never seen eyes like these.
It’s not just one shade of blue, but every blue, all at once. Thin threads of shuddering color, spreading out from pupils that swallow all light. It’s breathtakingly bright, like the colors are reaching out of the eyes to claw at the air. Or maybe they’re just swirling inside, chasing each other inside the confines of those irises.
A part of Yuuji knows that he’s imagining it, that Gojou’s eyes aren’t actually nuclear ghosts. But that logic doesn’t quite penetrate the blue haze in his head.
Gojou blinks, cutting off that stream of color, and Yuuji sucks in a breath like a drowning man.
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edwinspaynes · 2 days ago
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I've spent most of my writing time working on chapter 3 of Now We're at the Starting Line (I Did My Time) this month. The good news is that the chapter will be out on the 15th as planned! The bad news is that I didn't write anything for Crystal week.
Luckily, this chapter has a Crystal-and-Edwin scene in it that I'm extremely proud of! I'm posting it independently a few days before the chapter for @crystal-week, because I love our little psychic so much and want to post something for her.
Starting Line spoilers under the cut!
CONTEXT: After getting home from an awful meeting with her mother, Crystal finds herself crying on the stairway of the Agency building. Edwin, after a rather emotional moment with Charles, ascends the stairs and sees her there.
-
Crystal should go home. She knew that she should – her bed would be a great distraction right now, and the promise of a night sleeping beside Niko’s ghostly form was a comfort. But she didn’t want to go home to Niko a crying mess, so she sat on the stairs between the parking lot and the Agency above with her knees pulled to her chest.
Her mom really didn’t care about her. She didn’t give two shits what happened to her daughter. It had never been clearer to Crystal than it was today, and it had already been pretty fucking clear.
You have twelve minutes, she had said.
This conversation has been a perfect waste of time.
Crystal, I’ve let you have your little delusion for long enough.
She should be beyond sadness. She shouldn’t be such a baby. She was Crystal Palace Surname Von-Hoverkraft, and she’d always been a force to be reckoned with. Not just psychic, not just magical, but strong. Emotionally sturdy. Reliable.
Even if her memories didn’t feel like her own, she recalled feeling that way. Powerful.
And, apparently, she couldn’t catch a break. Not even to have a good long humiliating cry on her own. Because the last voice she wanted to hear sounded behind her, echoing through the rickety stairwell louder than she’d ever wanted it to. “Crystal?” Edwin sounded weirdly worried. “Are you… crying?”
“No,” she said. “Someone’s fucking chopping onions.”
Edwin sat down beside Crystal gingerly, lowering himself with his hands awkwardly. He cocked his head to the side and hummed. “I can in fact recognize when you are being sarcastic,” he said. “You are not particularly subtle.”
Crystal snorted. “Did you think I was trying to be?”
“I do sometimes,” Edwin said lightly. “Perhaps not now, though, as you seem rather… tense.” He paused. When he finally spoke, his voice was oddly stiff. “Would you like to… discuss your particular malady?”
Crystal touched the buns in her hair, one after the next. She was already crying, and Edwin knew it. She might as well talk to him. What was the worst he could do?
And, as much as she hated admitting it, somewhere deep inside her she knew that she and Edwin were birds of a feather. Crystal might as well talk to him, right? Besides, she didn’t really care what he thought about her. He’d see her, and he’d be honest. Maybe that was all she needed right now. So she took a breath and said, with absolutely no prelude, “it was my mother.”
Edwin’s response was short, and his voice was light. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” Crystal said, grateful for his brevity. It made her feel like she could go on. “When Charles and I met up with her today, she was… I don’t know. A real asshole, honestly. But I hate saying that. She’s my mom, even if she was super clear that she didn’t want to see me.” She paused. “Did you know that she only gave me a fifteen-minute appointment? I’m her daughter, and she gave me a fifteen-minute scheduling block.”
“That is… less than positive,” Edwin agreed in an oddly sympathetic voice.
“That’s very British of you,” Crystal told him, and he smirked. She did, too, but felt her face fall again after a few seconds. “Just… and, like, I don’t want to bitch and moan about it, even if I’m speaking to the world record holder for bitching and moaning.”
“Now you are just needlessly instigating,” Edwin said, but there was an undercurrent of laughter in his voice. “A well-known facet of your personality, to be sure, but unnecessary right now.”
Crystal rolled her eyes. “Well, like I was saying, I don’t want to gripe too much, but like… she didn’t care that I was missing. She didn’t even fucking notice, and neither did my dad. What kind of parent doesn’t even notice when their child is missing? What kind of parent doesn’t even give it a second thought when they learned that their kid was a literal missing person?”
She was angry. She was indignant. But Edwin was looking off into the distance, his expression calm and contemplative. He looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding back for some reason.
Which sucked, because one of the reasons that she liked Edwin – though, ugh, why would she think that – was that he never bit his tongue. But his face was careful now, even if his eyes shone with some unidentifiable emotion.
“What is it?”
Edwin turned his head toward her, his shoulders rolling. He assessed her with an almost practiced nonchalance before speaking. His voice was kind, but there was an undercurrent of anger in it that Crystal didn’t understand.
Not yet, anyway.
“I do actually know something of that,” Edwin said. “Believe it or not.”
Crystal blinked. “What does that mean?”
Edwin paused. He opened his mouth once, shut it, and shook his head quickly. “When I went to Hell - ”
“God, Edwin,” Crystal said. “I know that what’s happened to me isn’t as bad as literal Hell. You don’t always have to compare.”
“I’m not,” Edwin said. His fists clenched and pressed together on his lap. “I am very sorry that I have given you reason to believe that I am.”
All the fight went out of Crystal then. “It’s fine,” she said.
“Might I go on now?”
“Fine.”
“When I went to Hell,” Edwin continued, “my disappearance was labeled an Act of God. I believe I have told you that, but… well, I have had decades to contemplate the implications of that, and to research precisely what the declaration entailed.” He paused. “One facet of such a statement is that I was not looked for. Not by anyone. Society at large, to be sure, but I do not care much for the opinions of that lot. I do, however, care that my family abandoned my search.”
“Jesus,” Crystal said.
“Yes, I do believe that is a likely reason that no one searched for me.” Edwin’s voice was saucy, but Crystal sensed an undertone of real hurt. “They did not even start, in fact. I was an Act of God from the day I went missing. To this day, my death is what Charles calls a ‘cold case.’ I remain unburied, and my mother and father could not even be bothered to purchase an empty casket for me despite their abundance of money.”
“That sucks,” Crystal said sympathetically.
“Yes,” Edwin agreed. “It is not an ideal outcome. And I know that you think me unemotional, or cold. But remembering that no one around me cared to search for me – it is the only time that I remember that I was once a person.” He cocked his head. “But this is not about me. It is about the truth that you are far from alone in your sentiments, and-” Edwin made a vibrating sound with his lips, his eyes wide. “Well. That is rather enough emotion for one sitting. I daresay that I had far too many feelings after… well. I shall have to find a way to cleanse myself of it.”
Crystal snorted, and in that moment, she felt a bit herself again.
Then, to bring the mood back to something adjacent to normal, she turned toward Edwin. “Did you know that when I was born my mom signed my forehead?”
Edwin gave her an odd look. “With one of those… magical markers? Whyever would she do that?”
Crystal laughed slightly. “No, it was a temporary tattoo of her signature. It was like I was an art piece they were curating. They wanted to make some weird statement online.”
“Your internet is indeed an odd place. A wealth of knowledge, but also a wealth of independent publications waiting to be ridiculed.”
Edwin sidled off the stair next to her wordlessly and walked away, up the stairs and toward the comfort of his books and notes. Crystal watched him go, and he never turned back.
And she knew what she had to do.
She couldn’t give up, not for herself. Not just for her own sake, though that would have been a pretty damn good reason in itself. She had to understand her powers for Charles, for Edwin… and for Niko, who had been lighting her up inside in a weirdass way lately that she didn’t even understand. She had to know who she was, even beyond her memories, and if Maddy Surname wasn’t going to help her…
Well, fuck her.
Aicha, she thought, are you there?
Her eyes went white as Aicha responded.
Always, my sweet child.
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gruesomejack · 12 hours ago
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The lack of response stung, to say the least. Mostly, it left him worried that the invitation was too bold. He hadn't meant it as anything more than it was! He did want to talk to Charlie; it'd been all he wanted since he'd left his home.
Vi tried his best not to look so deflated as they started to pick up and leave-- It'd been a good night! A great one, and even if Charlie didn't want to see him, he still had the memory of the way he felt out there.
------
He'd scrubbed his face three times, but there were still traces of glitter stuck to his skin and in his hair. It was fairly normal since he'd started the tour, and if everything else was off and he was clean, that was all that mattered. Digging through his overnight bag, he tugged on a pair of sweats and a shirt before ruffling a hand through his damp hair. His eyes found the mirror on the wall and his cheeks puffed out with air, his face warming. He'd forgotten he'd packed that shirt-- A well worn band tee, stained with bleach, dye, and paint, cropped right below the midriff. It was the last time Cane Corso had been on tour; he'd gone with his brother and bought the shirt on the way out. The material was soft, and it ended up in regular rotation until he'd ruined it with too much love. Still, he couldn't quite get himself to part with it yet, shifting it to pajamas rather than tossing it out.
The urge was there to take it off. Charlie still hadn't responded, and it was starting to make him feel like a fool for thinking he would.
Vi scratched at his jaw and moved towards the kitchenette to pull a glass from the cabinet and bottle of wine from the fridge. He'd started to wrestle with the cork when he was startled by the knock on his door. As much as he was grateful for Nick traveling with him this stretch, he wasn't exactly sure he wanted to hang out tonight. His plans were as followed: get mildly drunk, and toss and turn in a too-cushy hotel bed until they had to leave again.
Vi set the bottle aside and padded towards the door. Unlocking it, he pulled it open, a tired pout already poised on his lips. However, the face behind it had his own quickly shifting to a bright surprised. Before he could say anything at all, he was grinning, his arms out to tug the man into a tight hug. "I wasn't sure you were coming!" He said and pulled him inside, closing the door behind them before his giddiness could attract any attention. Clinging onto Charlie's hand, he squeezed it and smiled for him. "I was so happy to see you out there! I would've had you ride with us, but I didn't want to accidentally get you cornered." He said, babbling a little out of his excitement. "Were you there the whole time? I would've given you tickets if you asked me."
Vi hummed, tugging him back towards the kitchenette with him. Finally letting him go, he grabbed another glass and went back to trying to dig the cork out of his drink. "I-I'm sorry I haven't been in touch the last few weeks, I-..." He didn't really have an excuse, other than his nerves. "I've been pretty busy." He tried and frowned at himself, "How are you?"
Victory checked his phone again, opening the messaging app and confirming for the hundredth time this was the right spot. He'd pulled off some kind of miracle in the last month, not only getting in contact with one of his favorite artists, but managing to keep it going almost regularly. And now he was standing outside of an unfamiliar building on an unfamiliar street in the middle of Appalachian nowhere, getting ready to meet him in person.
He'd dressed down for the occasion, mostly for his own sake, but for Charlie's too. His own success was leading to more and more people clocking him while he was out, and he doubted dressing like Elton John would help him blend in in a place like this. The bleached hair he'd been sporting recently was tucked nicely under a baseball cap, his extensive ink work covered by a baggy sweatshirt. He'd even taken his earrings out in a rush, storing them in his pocket when he realized he'd forgotten to leave them in his hotel room. The last thing Charlie needed was to be bombarded because he agreed to meet him.
In the middle of using his phone screen as a mirror, his eyes widened as it lit up with a text. Vi quickly shoved it in his pocket and gave a quick sweep of the area. He frowned for a moment, but before he could pull out his phone again, his eyes landed on a familiar face, his own quickly brightening into a grin. Bouncing on his feet, he laughed as he waved his arms to usher his pen pal over.
Charlie Reimes. Cane Corso had been a staple on his playlists for years, and here was the frontman in the flesh. -- All because he'd gotten drunk and too bold, sending him what was an embarrassing DM expressing his admiration. It was a testament to maybe not all of his questionable choices led to questionable outcomes.
Beaming, he practically hopped the rest of the way over to him, his smile toothy, cheeks pink, and his eyes crinkled. "I can't believe it! I don't think you understand how massive this is to me." He said, babbling a little in his excitement. "I can't even begin to thank you. You've been such an inspiration to me forever and-" Oh! Oh, shit. Face flooding with color, he lifted his hands to wave off the starstruck gibberish, and instead offered him his palm. "I-I'm Vi." He managed, "It's nice to see you in person."
@purposefully-lost
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mysticalcats · 5 months ago
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good morning
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lupismaris · 5 months ago
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Happy Baltimore Pride, the parade starts in 3 and a half hours and I'm already exhausted
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stabbyfoxandrew · 5 months ago
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i want to crawl under my desk and go to sleep
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magentagalaxies · 6 months ago
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vent incoming:
got my grades back for my courses last semester and most of it was to be expected, mostly A's, maybe an A-, etc. but i honestly can't get over the fact that my independent study (the buddy cole documentary) was for some reason given a B. like sure getting a B isn't bad per se, I usually get at least one B every semester and i honestly don't really care about what my exact gpa is as long as i can graduate, but come on. this school put me through months of psychological torment over this project and didn't even have the nerve to give me a B+??? i'm still coping with the self-doubt they forced on me and this bullshit is not helping!!
#honestly it's kind of hilarious ngl. especially bc i also got my documentary work counted as an independent study the previous semester#and the previous semester even tho i barely worked on the doc itself#(mostly just planning and putting together the crowdfunding which was still a lot of work but like compare it to the past few months)#they were willing to give me an A (my school doesn't do A+ so this is the highest mark possible)#vs this semester. like i'll admit my final assignment was late and could have been more polished#but i was literally on tour in documentary-mode 24/7 for several weeks. i filmed an entire comedy special! i put together a live interview!#not to mention having to fucking negotiate with my own college censoring the footage they'd promised me of an event i put together#and play nice with a professor who literally outed me on twitter in an attempt to cancel one of my best friends#at this point the ''B'' feels more like a petty grudge than anything else#like ok we can't get away with *actually* fucking over jessamine's grades bc clearly ze did do the work. but let's just give zir a B#like i will admit the audio quality in my final isn't great. and i could have used more polished footage in some sections#but counterpoint: 100+ students were arrested at a protest while i was editing and i was having a mental breakdown#the fact that i finished *anything* is goddamn impressive especially after they essentially conditioned me to hate myself any time i was#working on a project i loved!!!#due to the aforementioned student arrests my college did put out an option where we could change any letter grade this semester to pass/fai#so anything passing wouldn't impact our gpa if we didn't want it to. so i could just change the B to a ''pass''#but really what's the point. ''B'' is still a good grade and my GPA is fine (3.65 on a 4.0 grading scale. 2.0 is required to graduate)#it just sucks that after what i went through last semester i feel like nobody takes it seriously#i was reminiscing earlier about how it's honestly kind of funny how after that professor outed me on twitter#i was at the hotel with scott like an hour later sobbing and having an existential crisis about my relationship to gender#and scott was so supportive but also awkwardly being like#''i know i should offer the crying child a tissue but where the fuck are the tissues in this room what do i do''#and he just handed me a full-on towel instead like oh my god he was trying his best but also so clearly out of his depth#but of course i then had to remember how when i told that story to a different professor to be like ''this is how much scott cares about me#this guy called me fucking UNPROFESSIONAL for crying in front of the subject of my documentary?????????#like yeah maybe so but how DARE you call me unprofessional when a different professor tweeted my full name and gender without my consent#in an attempt to fucking cancel one of my friends for ''misgendering'' me for using pronouns i'm fine with him using!!!#i don't think i'm ever going to be able to forgive my college and i don't know how i'll be able to get through one more semester#that experience genuinely changed things about my psychology that i'm not proud of and i need to work through#so if i have to miss a goddamn kids in the hall event because i have class this november i am going to set something on fire
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vampimull3t · 3 months ago
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i am ill :(
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camellia-thea · 4 months ago
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initially this post had some commentary about interests right now. and then it turned into a ramble about personal healing in the tags. so the interest post is going separately.
#i have been possessed by my fourteen year old self.#except now i am *way* less ashamed of my interests#<- oh wow when you're in a place where all your interests that are unique to you are shamed constantly you stop enjoying them#there were so many things i hoarded as ''just mine'' because i was scared that they'd be stolen from me in one way or another#because either it'd be co-opted and i'd have to confirm to their view of said interest. or i'd be shamed and belittled for enjoying it#there are so many little things now (even wider than like. media interests. like literal aspects of myself) that feel wrong to share becaus#the only way to keep it safe was to keep it close to my chest#there are a few names i'd love to go by but as soon as i think about actually telling someone it i feel like i might#(and sometimes do) have a panic attack about it#which is stupid!!! the people around me now love me!!!! and i love them!!!!!#all that to say. being able to post about armand and dm is kind of like. a rebellion i guess#tvc and specifically armand were so important to me because back then i kind of saw myself in him? v. jaded and disconnected with the world#and seeking someone to bring them forward and into a new space to try and reinvent themself#and wanting someone to love them hard enough that it encompassed everything#i wanted to be what daniel was to armand and what armand was to daniel#<- very healthy way to think about the world and relationships btw <3 i was so normal and fine and this was not a sign something was wrong#god this turned into a bit of a vent thing huh.#i'm not like. feeling big feelings i should clarify. i feel like i'm examining them from a distance and taking notes like a scientist lol#it's a thing of like. knowing how unhealthy everything was and acknowledging that i'm healing. slowly; sure. but i am healing#i got to play a game one of them had tainted last week. it was hard and fun and i had big feelings when i was playing#because it was a little triggering. but i did it. i managed. i felt better for it.#i told my partner about one of my favourite bands back in 2021 and now they listen to them too and that's a little bit of joy#because it was one of the things that was deemed ''bad'' and that i can share that with someone now and feel safe to love it is good#and being able to be as obsessive and hyperfixated as i am right now without it being unsafe is really really lovely#and it is making me lean into it! i can engage with this without guilt! i want to fuck that old man!#it's silly and difficult and big and great and awful and complicated. but it's allowed to be. i'm allowed to be.
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bunnygirl678 · 11 months ago
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wild-at-mind · 1 year ago
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Being in a long distance relationship long term is so fucked up. For context for people in bigger countries I'm not talking flying distance from each other, I'm talking about 3 hrs apart on the train, so not that far arguably. But still far enough that our lives are almost completely separate in the practical sense, no matter how much we talk on the phone or meet halfway. When one of us stays over at the other's place we are still guests in each other's homes. I still don't know what cohabiting would be like and what a comfortable normalicy of being in each other's lives in person every day would be like. We're coming up to our 11th anniversary. I don't want to break up with him!!!! I love him deeply and I've never met someone I'm as compatible with as him. I've never been in love like this and I'm not easy to know, and yet he does know me and likes what he sees. I just feel I am stuck and I am frustrated that my sex life is like once every 3 months. I still don't even know how often we would have sex if we lived together, we haven't had the chance to find that rhythm. When we see each other there's no time to do any more involved stuff it's just getting off. Basically everytthing we've talked about has to stay in the realm of fantasy because there's never any fucking time.
I am trying I said to him- you need to do covering letters and things, you can't just send your CV that has never worked. He's the one who wants out of his current job, and out of his town, but applying for jobs is so fucking hard when you're working full time and trying to do things you love to not get fucking depressed. See I understand those things because I would feel the same way. If he moved here we could find a place together and I could find it out if I actually can live with someone else and stay mentally well. I'm getting too dependent on living alone in order to stay mentally well and it worries me.
Sorry to vent. I'm not looking for advice it's just venting.
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mxgyver · 1 year ago
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running-in-the-dark · 2 years ago
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Just had a really uncomfortable conversation with our landlord & his wife - basically he was angry at us for drilling 'so many' holes in the walls (we really, really haven't drilled many holes in the walls. though we did build a shelf a few days ago, that could have sounded like that I guess?) and that it's getting very annoying that we've been moving in for four months now (it's been three months, and the vast majority of that time we didn't do anything, especially not anything loud. the only thing that's happened in like the last month is that we brought home and set up that shelf, and the holes we drilled today).
And it's just.. so confusing. Because we always ask them when we do something that could be loud/bother them, and they always say it's completely fine and everything. I just quickly wanted to get the drilling done today because I had to borrow my brother's drill for it, so we didn't ask this time.
And mainly it's confusing because they've told us SO MANY TIMES that they can't hear us at all, that we never bother them and that they're so happy to have such nice and quiet tenants. Like?? Okay??? How does that make sense. Last week we're great and sooo quiet and today we've suddenly been super loud for "four months".
So anyway after they left and I almost had a panic attack I realised I didn't take my anxiety medication this morning. Now it makes sense at least.
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aberooski · 2 years ago
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Since today is Thanksgiving and all that, I'm thankful for the conversation I had with my sister yesterday that led to me figuring out a lot of stuff for my Stormshipping Cinderella au so I can start writing it a lot sooner than I thought I would because I'm slow as shit. Chazzerella is on the horizon! Next year babes 👀
#figured out some lore and logistic stuff that would bug me not to acknowledge#because my toxic trait as a writer is that I do the most appropriately all of the time#she also helped me work out specifically how to handle the glass slipper situation in conjuction with Light and Darkness Dragon so yay!!#if I decide to do the ygobb next year again I might save it for that like I did OUAD but I'm not sure if I'm gonna do it again#or maybe take a break this year since I've done it the last 5 years in a row#I haven't written anything not for the ygobb in so long I kinda wanna take a break and do stuff just for me again#because the time constraints are what make me burn out so hard because I'm pushing myself too hard to get done#in what feels like such a short amount of time when it's honestly hard for me to write shorter fics as much as I want to#anyway it's gonna be a great au and I'm excited#also I'm gonna be posting my Fatal Frame crossover as I write it after I get the first few chapters done#that way we can pretend to have some consistency but I miss just writing and posting whenever I feel like it and have the mental power#I miss having longevity I feel like all my fics die off really quickly because I had to adhere to the bb posting schedule#we had to post every single day if we had multichapter fics every year until this year but we had to have it all up within 4 weeks#so I wanted to post OUAD twice a week but it has 12 chapters so I had to do 3 times a week instead#I just don't have the longevity I wish I could have so I'm taking it back#basically this crossover and this au are me taking back my own fics and protecting my brain from having to push too hard all the time#I want to enjoy the actual writing process again I'm tired of feeling stressed and that I have to finish it asap#but fuck it right?#yugioh#yugioh gx#stormshipping#chazz princeton#atticus rhodes#yugioh gx fanfiction
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mayspicer · 2 months ago
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Mmm nothing like a good old full blown panic attack, I haven't had one in years. This time at least I have access to medication to make it stop a lot faster, but I have 6 pills left for the next 2,5 months and the recent trends in my mental state are not looking good.
#majek says shit#very bad year and VERY BAD week#had a new friend over for a few days and they had and encounter with an absolute bed bug infestation a couple days earlier#took all precautions they could and were very serious about the whole thing but were paranoid#something bit my bf on the knee literally the day after she left and we're in overdrive now#I say it's a mosquito because that night there was one in the house that I couldn't cath#but he says thats not how his body reacts to mosquitoes. I'm keeping myself in denial to preserve the little mental health I have left#my body decided that the stress will manifest as itchy hives which is great#we moved everything to my room and I'm going insane#I need my own space to live with someone and we even slept separately for like 2 years because it's better for sleep quality#and now we sleep together which is pretty nice and nicer than I remembered but also I have literally no space mental or physical#I'm unemployed and he works from home#we moved the tv to watch movies in bed and everything is taking so much physical space. my personal space#the house is a mess and my life is a mess and everything seems hopeless#I'm having... anxiety attacks? first once a week now every day. I always thought they were like milder panic attacks#they kinda are. as in they are shorter. and actually about something not the undescribed “watch out!”#but severity is like a panic attack was compressed into a few seconds which feel like I'm standing on the edge of a void pulling me in#it's physical. I have to physically hold on to something or move my body vigorously as if I'm shuffling away#and it lasts literally seconds and I'm fine-ish#my psychiatrist heard about it happening once a week and wrote me a prescription (?) to go to psychiatric hospital#not to stay there but for intensive 5-6h daily three month therapy#and after that visit I started having these attacks daily I think because it got to me that I'm Not Ok#it all started when I started on my new antidepressants and they are helping... but I'm afraid they are breaking something else...#I'm scared that they are#but so much is happening#unemployed for a year. my industry is going to shit. lost my friend who made sure to give me a big package of toxic waste as a farewell gift#so I have no support from anyone who even remotely understands me#unemployment means rejection over and over because I'm trying...#and this week exhausted me socially on top of everything. and the bed bugs threat. it's good I at least have xanax when it gets like today#oh also I'm turning 30 in a month. this is going to be great for job opportunities I can feel it
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adore-gregor · 5 months ago
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my perception of grades totally changed since i started uni
#in school i just did the bare minimum a pass was fine and a 3 great#it's insane to think about it how little i did like for a lot of subjects not at all and if i did i'd study like 2 hrs the day before 😭#and i thought this was studying hard or if i studied 3 hrs at least whaaat#well for some subjects i did a bit more#but like it is no comparrison#at uni i also did study the day before a few times but then i did an 8hr session#(i might just need to do that tmrw but the thing is the exam is one you can't study for so literary idk what i'd study so long for??)#(or how to study... it's translation but how tf do you study translation it's highly subjective and there are no practice exercises)#(i will probably just look at the notes)#but anyway for my last exam i spent 5 hrs in the library a day and i already started 2 weeks before (altough just in smaller bits)#but bumped it up exam week i did like 2-3hrs on average a day#even if i start too late like i did for one of the hardest test of my studies i only studied for 2 days but like all day or 10hrs sth a day#it by far exceeds the 2hrs lmao and even that was very little for this exam many studied 2 weeks but like i got a good grade so it's okay#but my point is now that i get better grades good one's a C is a massive disappointment for me 😅#unless it was a really difficult one then i'd take it but like it upsets me#a teacher once told me when i got a c on an exam quite a few failed that many would be happy to have that grade well true tbh but i can't#and once i almost cried because i got a C because i thought it was an easy course but it was an oral exam and i'm worse in these#(because in written i often remember the answer later in the exam and then go back but in oral i can't do that)#well that was embarrassing😭 i'm trying to never do that again so if i get asked how i feel abt it say it's okay ig#but sometimes even a B is meh 😅 especially if an A was possible and it was an easy course/exam#i want more A's less B's tbh B's also because i really want to go abroad and raise my grade average for that#i want to go from a B average to an A something average to improve my chances#but yeah younger me wouldn't believe this 😂#i really want to study harder to make that step up to more A's than B's like uni does come quite easy to me#and while i study way more compared to others i still get away with less effort and good results but i could have excellent grades#on the one hand it's good that i improved so much on the other those expectations might not be because i'm almost never satisfied anymore 😅#and i know it's kind of really unimportant because there are real problems and also many uni students struggle to pass their classes#it's maybe even a bit disrespectful because they'd be happy to have these grades and i should be more grateful#but i swear i don't look down on anyone with worse grades i know how difficult it can be and also how outside factors play a role#some have it more difficult some have to work a lot next to uni or really suffer from mental illness besides no one's brain is the same
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