#sometimes I forget my life is completely different than it was a year ago and it’s so hard for me to process

[moonlight-starlight-lady01]

How...how are you alive?

Kenji sato x Fem! [Different demention] Reader.

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SUMMARY:Ken had a lover named Y/n, but she had passed away. He was devastated from that. Then 2 years later his mother was declared dead. So he took the opportunity to move to japan and restart his career in his home country. But then something strange happened. There was a exact copy of his lover in his living room. Except she wasnt his y/n. She was different.....from a different demention.

[A/n:Im gonna try and make this into like a series i guess lol]

(Warning: sexual tension, angst, confusion, crying, my cutie ken sad basically the whole story. Y/n has brown eyes & brown hair[ya know bc shes from a different demention]<tell me if i missed any>)

Pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5.

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It was different. Sad. Not like what he had thought his life would feel like. Y/n had died 2 years ago because of cancer. He remembers her blue eyes sparkling like the ocean when the sun began to rise from the night sky. Her blonde hair swaying in the wind perfectly all fluffy and soft. Her plumped lips smiling showing her pearly white teeth. Her dress would be thigh length and sway in the wind so majestically. Her sweet voice would say the most beautiful things when she spoke. But then....her eyes became dried cracked wholes in her head. Her hair began to fall out and become like straw. Her smile started to turn into a signature line. Her voice started to sound ruff and hard. But one thing never changed. How much she loved Kenji. Everytime she saw him walk into her hospital room with the signature red roses and smiling happy to see her fiancé. But then it all ended with that one last beep on the monitor. After that he didnt want to find love ever again. It hurt to much. The sound of her laughter when they would cuddle and tickle each other. Or when they would wake up with each other in bed and stay there all day. It wouldn't be the same.

Then 2 years after that his mom was declared dead. Something snapped in him. He moved to japan to restart his career and forget about everything that wanted to make him cry all day.

So now he was on his way to play basbell. The Giants. Fight as Ultra man. And restart. But how he had asked to please make the pain stop to anything that could have the power to. Anything.

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That was until he woke up to a crashing in his living room and a female screaming.

He had grabbed his baseball bat and tip toed to the sound. It was a girl. A women. She turned around and looked at him scared.

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It was Y/n.

But it wasn't her exactly....She has brown hair and brown eyes. Probably taller than her and more plump in some areas...*ahem*.

"(Y/n?)"

She looked even more confused. "Uh, yes" she said uncertain. "Who are you and why the fuck am i here?"

He was in shock. Why was there someone that looked like his y/n but so so different. Plus his y/n never cussed. The only bad word he ever heard her say was crap. And she said fuck like shes used to saying it.

"W-Wait, you dont know me?" Kenji asked confused. He waited for her answer. ".....nooo?"

Fuck. What the fuck. How is this possible.

But, after some time. He learned that Y/n was 22 and was living in California. She worked at a cafe and book store to make ends meat. She was the complete opposite to what y/n was like. She didn't even have the same color at all like her. Brown hair, brown eyes, playful/sassy attitude and less innocent.

"Well, can you help me get to my home demention because like ya know, im not suppose to be in this one?"

Damn. She's right. She has to go home sometime. He looks at her thinking.

"Plus, everytime you look at me your litterely burning holes into my ass and tits"

Yep she definitely not his Y/n. How will this go now. His life is already a mess to began with...

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[our-queer-experience]

I'm a transgender guy. I have known I am trans for a decade now, I have been on testosterone for 6 years, had top surgery 3 years ago, and am now figuring out getting phalloplasty. I'm very comfortable with who I am and my journey but being trans just isn't a big part of my day to day life or thoughts anymore. I haven't been misgendered for probably 3 years now and I often forget I am trans unless I am naked.

But the strange part is that even in my friend group of all gay and trans people, I am completely stealth. I met a couple of them right before I had top surgery and when I was recovering, I just said it was a private surgery and no one seemed to suspect anything. All of them consider me the token cisgender guy. I've gotten good at pretending to be fairly clueless on trans stuff while supporting my trans friends through their own journeys. I never really went out of my way to be stealth but when I first met some of them, one of them referenced me in a way that made it clear they thought I was cis and I realized that I didn't want to correct them.

Lately, I have been having a lot of thoughts and feelings about this though. Part of the reason why I originally leaned into being stealth is that I realized that even in queer spaces I get treated differently if I am seen as cis man vs trans man. My jokes are funnier, my opinions hold more weight, etc., compared to out trans men in the same space. But those reasons aren't specifically why I wanted to be stealth. I think getting treated differently when I am out (in ways that parallel misogyny) made me realize that, even in these spaces, some part of people aren't able to detach my transgenderness from my maleness. That when they think of me, they associate that in some way with the way I was born and that I am not male in the same way as my cis counterparts. And my fear was that if I came out and suddenly got treated differently then I would always be acutely aware of the way that people see me or are conscious of my history and it would bring back the dysphoria and make it hard to socialize again. The difference in treatment I get also makes me sad because even in these places where people try to be openminded and are staunchly feminist there is still some ingrained bias but that's another conversation.

I also have had experiences in the past of fellow trans people assuming things about my experiences or life that made me feel isolated in a different way. It's something that I don't want to go into detail with because it's personal but even just applying stereotypes to me that are inaccurate and make me realize that this person doesn't see who I am.

But over these past 3 years, I have narrowed down a group of friends that I don't think would treat me differently if they knew but I don't know for sure. And I know that once I tell them then I can never go back. In some ways, it would just be easier to stay stealth forever but it is kind of lonely to have this part of me I never share with the people I love. It's not a huge part of me but it is a part of me and I pride myself on being a very forthright person so it sometimes gets to me. Sometimes I want to talk about potentially getting phalloplasty or about funny experiences I have had relating to me being trans. Sometimes when a transmasc friend talks about something they are struggling with related to their identity or transition I want to be able to talk to them about it from a place of experience rather than supporting from the sidelines as an ally. Sometimes I want to be able to openly relate to other trans friends who are farther in their transition about how things change over the years. But I also like how things are and I feel scared to take that leap or wonder if I even should. I have had issues with being outed and harassed in the past and even though I trust all my friends I think a part of me feels like if even one person knows then I will always be afraid they will betray that trust.

And I know this is all immensely privileged. I am very lucky that I pass so well and that I have so many queer friends and even that I benefit from male privilege because of where I am in my life. I am getting to make a choice here that lots of trans people would kill to get to make. I am also not inherently afraid of being treated with subconscious misogynistic biases if I come out but more what that implies and if that would bring back a lot of social dysphoria that I don't really deal with much anymore. I've made a lot of progress in my life and mental health and I think I am just afraid to shatter that and honestly, I also just feel sort of isolated and lonely in this situation but I know from past experiences that being out also can be lonely and isolating in different ways. I think the allure of staying stealth is that at least this way the loneliness is affirming.

That's everything I have been thinking about for the past couple months. I guess I wrote all this to be heard by someone or share this in case there is someone like me who is also going through this. Any advice from anyone is really appreciated since I don't have anyone I can talk to irl who gets it. Thank you for running this blog :)

thank you for sharing!!! you’re always welcome to talk here :]

[capricorn-writes2]

Could I ask for either a poly or love triangle with the DreamTale twins? They’re my comfort characters and I’m not doing too well emotionally recently. Love what I’ve read of your work! Have a good day! <3

Nightmare Sans and Dream Sans Love Triangle Headcanons, Ink and Error Love Triangle, Underfell Sans and Underswap Sans Love Triangle

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A/N: Hello there @artsyfangirl! I hope you do not mind that I am adding Fell and Blueberry as well as Ink and Error. Just take it as a bonus for you since you don't really have a good day!

Warning: Cursing from Fell

Gender: Neutral

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Nightmare Sans and Dream Sans

Almost impossible because the two of them are different and we cannot forget that Dream Sans and Nightmare Sans would always fight with each other as Nightmare is the leader of Bad Sanses and Dream Sans is the leader of Star Sanses.

It is like a war because the two of them are going to end up fighting with each other despite the war between the Bad Sanses and the Star Sanses ended many years ago but it's not as aggressive between Ink and Error Sans

Dream Sans going to steal your attention by trying to make you laugh with his silly antics or his stupid but funny jokes as he would talk with you.

He would also try to steal your attention by giving small but meaningful gifts, something like little trinkets, keychains, or maybe a hand-made sweet ( I headcanon that Dream can bake).

And he would also always listen to you talking about anything even though he does not understand. He would try to understand them and give the response that you want but sometimes....it fails.

Unlike Dream, Nightmare is much less obvious when he tries to steal your attention away from Dream Sans. He would secretly tell you about all the bad things Dream did.

When Dream is not around, he keeps you in his room and not letting you go out but keeps you around as his tentacles would hold you. Sometimes, his words could make you turn red because he would whisper those 'You look dazzling my dear in this outfit but you look even more amazing if you don't wear them.' (AYO- WHAT THE FUCK)

Trying to impress you by showing you what Dream might not have but he has it (For example, if you love the library. He would allow you to read the books in there and he would be your tutor).

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The stars sparkle under the darkness of the sky and two creatures stand together to see all of the stars since the stars shine the brightest at twelve at midnight. A skeleton with a golden cape and light blue jacket standing close next to his crush. They/he/she has (H/C) hair colour with (H/L) hair length with a pair of mesmerizing (E/C) eye colours and (S/C) skin colour.

Using his powers and the staff he always brought around, he created a portal into the Outertale Universe, a place where the stars were brighter than ever, and dreams seemed to come to life. (Y/N) was completely captivated by the mesmerizing beauty of the Outertale Universe. The stars twinkled with an enchanting light, and the whole place exuded a sense of peace.

On the other realm were a pair of cyan eyes seeing the sight from the crystal ball. A skeleton with tentacles and goopy slime all over him watched his brother being romantic to (Y/N) from the shadows, jealousy brewing within him as he saw Dream Sans and (Y/N) together in the Outertale Universe.

It did not take much time for a dark and swirling portal to appear far away from where Dream Sans and (Y/N) stood together to enjoy the sight of the stars, and ominous black tentacles emerged. They snaked towards you, reaching out like a rubber band and wrapping around (Y/N).

The cold sensation around the waist made (Y/N) (L/N) gasps in aghast, horror, and surprise. It was tight enough so you could not escape from the grip but it was not hard enough to hurt you in any way since he did not want you to get hurt. Nightmare Sans, who had been lurking in the shadows, had seized this opportunity to snatch you away from Dream Sans

Dream Sans was taken aback, a mixture of shock and horror painted across his usually cheerful face. In the blink of an eye, the person with (H/C) hair colour and (S/C) skin colour was taken away from Dream Sans and Outertale, leaving him in a stupor. "Oh no! I should go to Nightmare's castle!" He pulled out the staff from his belt.

On the other side of the world, (Y/N) crosses her/his/their arms together and stares at the goopy skeleton with a black stare. You are clearly not amused by his little stunt. "What are you looking at, don't give me that look," Nightmare Sans rolls his pinpricks. "Really? Suddenly kidnapping me out of nowhere when I was hangout with Dream?" (Y/N) squints her/his/their eyes. "Ughh, what so great about Outertale? I can bring you there every day if you want. I could even bring you to a better place," Nightmare scoffs.

The battle between the two brothers raged on, neither willing to back down as they wanted your attention and no one else could have it. . As this pattern continued, (Y/N) grew increasingly not amused with Dream Sans and Nightmare Sans constantly kidnapping her/him/them out of nowhere.

The constant fighting between the two skeleton brothers had become more of a burden than a romantic pursuit, and they/she/he wished for a way to break free from this never-ending cycle. "You two really acting like five years old. I'm even more impressed nowadays kids seem to be more mature than you two," (Y/N) mutters.

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Ink Sans and Error Sans

If the love triangle between Nightmare and Dream Sans is already bad. Ink Sans and Error Sand would be much worse than those two because they would constantly FIGHT for your attention.

It is so bad that sometimes it feels like you could just take a chair and popcorn just to watch the drama between these two because they would fight for anything, not just your attention.

Ink Sans when trying to get your attention is by bringing you to the portal and showing you all of the beautiful Alternate Universes to impress you since he is the protector of Aus.

He would also just steal you away when you have free time to draw together with him. Sometimes, he would throw bits of compliments on your drawing, even if it was bad. He just likes your creativity.

He would also try to create something out of his paintbrush, small gifts maybe something adorable such as plushies and giving it to you to make you happy.

Error Sans is not as romantic as Ink Sans sadly so he had difficulty stealing your attention but I can see that he would bring you to some beautiful AUS despite him being an AU's destroyer, to watch the star.

Protects you from the other skeletons surprisingly and not letting anyone touch you, especially Ink Sans as he glares at the protector of AU's since he knows Ink also has a crush on you.

Also, he's a bit of a bully. To get your attention, he would make fun of you and give you tons or ridiculous nicknames just to piss you off and he's always amused each time you react to him.

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On the small beanbag inside of the living room, a person with (H/C) hair colour with (H/L) hair length and a pair of (E/C) eye colour as well as (S/C) skin colour sitting on it with books sprawled around the small chair. (Y/N) had been enjoying a peaceful afternoon, nestled comfortably in the bean bag. Their/her/his eyes scan every word of the book.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, the perfect ambience for your novel. You had just begun to immerse yourself in the world of words when, out of nowhere, a mysterious portal appeared in the corner of the room. The portal was glowing with the colour of the rainbow decorating it.

Startled by the sudden appearance of the portal, (Y/N) dropped their book, their heart racing. From the portal emerged the skeleton with a spot of ink on his cheek, a giant paintbrush on his back and a giant brown cape draped on his back. The protector of the multiverse as he would protect the universes from certain skeletons.

"Hey (Y/N)!" Ink said cheerfully, a wide smile on his face. "What are you doing?" "I was just reading, Ink. What's going on?" Still, a bit bewildered by the unexpected visit, (Y/N) stammered to Ink Sans. "Well, I had this idea for some collaborative drawing, and I thought, who better to join me than you? We could create something amazing together!" Ink's pinpricks twinkled in excitement.

(Y/N) was initially hesitant because the books that you had been reading had not finished and it was in the chapter where the main character faced their rival. But the idea of spending time drawing and the thought about the possibility of creating art together with Ink sounded fun too. "Sure, why not? Let's go," (Y/N) agreed with a smile.

With a bright smile, Ink Sans gestured for (Y/N) to follow him back through the portal and leave behind the book that (Y/N) still had not finished. But all of that excitement was gone as (Y/N) and Ink went inside the portal. Unsurprisingly, there is another guest who was not invited by Ink. "Oh no....you gotta be kidding me," Ink sighs.

The skeleton stepped off from the strings once he saw Ink and (Y/N) on the ground. The familiar black skeleton with a black coat, blue hood and black slippers strutted up to both Ink Sans and (Y/N). "iT HaS BeEn SuCh a LonG Time Isn'T it? bUddY?" A smug smile spread across his face. "Error, Leave us alone. You had already spent time with (Y/N) yesterday. Today is my turn," Ink Sans rolls his pinpricks. "NaAh. I Don't ThiNK sO," Another portal appears behind him.

Ink Sans quickly took the giant paintbrush from his back so he could create a shield for you but he was too late because the strings were wrapped on every one of your limbs. Error Sans created another portal of his own and, with (Y/N) wrapped on his strings, stepped into it, disappearing from Ink's realm.

You couldn't help but let out a sigh of frustration. Turning to Error Sans, he was smirking and holding you as if you were his captive. "Error, you know we spent time together yesterday. You could have given Ink a chance. This isn't fair to him," you scold him,your irritation was evident in your tone.

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Underfell Sans and Underswap Sans

A love triangle between Underfell Sans, You, and Underswap Sans might be a little ridiculous because it feels like you are taking care of a skeleton that acts like a golden retriever and also some kind of skeleton that acts like an emo with anger issues.

The other one is going to bully you just to get your attention and just to see your reaction and the other one is trying to hog all of your attention and will follow you everywhere.

Underswap Sans can be a little bit of an attention seeker because he would try to make tacos ( and end up burning all of them or using the wrong condiment and creating something inedible).

If you are busy, would give you that sad look on you before begging you to hang out with him and when Underfell was too late to ask you, he would secretly smirk.

He actually knows that he does look innocent and cute despite he hate of getting called cute but when Fell was angry at him and you saw him. He will use his cuteness to get you on his side.

Underfell Sans can be a bully just like Error Sans but a little bit worse because he won't just be calling you ridiculous names. He would make you dress up for a deal, make you watch a scary movie, and be a menace.

Not surprisingly he would bring you to Grillby's bar to hang out with you and surprisingly he asked Grilly to help him out. Even though, he would end up having more tabs. He would pay for your meals and drinks as he wants you to taste the monster food too.

Underfell Sans also steals your attention by playing games together with you. I believe he knows many great games and he always invites you to play a multiplayer game with him.

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The temperature of the kitchen is rising as the sun goes up in the middle of the day, a person with luscious (H/C) hair and striking (E/C) eyes sat in the kitchen, typing away on your computer. The soft glow of her screencast a warm, amber hue across your face, illuminating the (E/C) eye colours.

It had been a long day, and they/she/he was racing against the clock to finish the mountain of files that had been assigned to her/him/them by the old-bladed head manager. But it won't stop nature from doing its job as (Y/N)'s stomach chooses this inopportune moment to growl with hunger.

You could not help but let out a quiet sigh, torn between your desire for food or the commitment to completing the tasks that had piled up. (Y/N) knew that they/she/he couldn't afford to lose any more time, but the rumbling stomach seemed to have other plans. With a heavy heart, (Y/N) decided to take a brief break.

She/he/they stood up from the chair and stretched their/her/his tired limbs and (Y/N) knew a hungry tummy would only distract the process of working and finishing the papers. In the fridge, you found some leftover chicken and colourful bell peppers. It was the perfect opportunity to whip up something quick and satisfying.

Before (Y/N) could make something, you could hear someone scream, "Mwehehehee! The magnificent blue is here!" Startled, (Y/N) turns around to see Underswap Sans. "Oh, hey Blue. Do you need anything?" (Y/N) tilts their/her/his head a little bit in curiosity. "Human! I heard your stomach grumbling! It was quite loud, human! how 'bout I whip up some tasty tacos for you??" The skeleton asks.

(Y/N) couldn't help but glance up at the ceiling, remembering that the Jolly Skeleton wasn't the best cook. His previous attempt at making tacos had been a disaster, he managed to burn them, and then, in a whimsical attempt to salvage the situation, he had sprinkled glitter on the charred mess. (Y/N) had tried to be polite and take a bite, but it had been quite a horrible mistake.

As (Y/N) hesitated, contemplating whether to accept his offer or not, the door to the kitchen from the living room was suddenly slammed open, causing both Underswap Sans and (Y/N) to jump in surprise. Standing in the doorway was Underfell Sans. "Oi, loser, You said you're hungry? Why don't we get some grillby on the corner? The dumb baby tacos aren't edible for your intestine," Underfell Sans grumbled as he glanced at Underswap Sans.

(Y/N) felt relieved as Underfell Sans gave a solution or an easy way out of the situation. You didn't want to hurt Underswap Sans's feelings, but you also didn't want to endure another round of eating burnt glittery tacos. (Y/N) turned to Underswap Sans and gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks for the offer, Sans, but I think I'll go with Underfell Sans this time. I'm craving for French fries," You told him. "B-but those are unhealthy! They have so much grease!" Underswap Sans said.

Underswap Sans couldn't hide the disappointment that washed over him when (Y/N) rejected his offer. He let out a resigned sigh and watched as Underfell Sans escorted (Y/N) out of the kitchen. There was a pang of sadness in his eye sockets before his eyes shifted to Underfell Sans who silently glared at him, puffing his cheeks altogether.

He turned to look at Underfell, who was secretly smirking at him. Underfell was well aware that he had managed to steal (Y/N)'s attention away, and the competitive edge between the two skeletons continued to burn.

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[fairyminnie444]

SUCCESS STORY

guys, sp's are actually the most easy thing to manifest if you detach and identify as "all that is". there was this boy that hadn't talk to me in a romantic way in over two years and in those two years, I was extremely desperate and sad about the way he had been treating me. He was super nonchalant and was overall a very bad person to me and I was so tired of accepting the way he was treating me so about two weeks ago I decided that I was the one in power and I could have any and every reality I wanted, any person that I wanted to attract for however long, or short I wanted it to last. (keep in mind I have been doing a complete rebirth the last two weeks and am ever evolving so I probably will come back with more success for that are even crazier than this one) that being said, I decided that he was obsessed with me all along with three other guys that had ghosted me in the past, and I completely detached from it because I knew that they were obsessed with me. i imagined one or two scenarios of what would happen between me and them that would prove that they were in fact, obsessed with me and I kid you not two out of the three guys that I imagined were obsessed with me sent me a essay apologizing and literally declaring their love for me, wishing that they had never treated me the way and saying that they missed me a lot. in the past, when I had manifested people I highly anticipated it and kept looking for signs that they were coming, like angel numbers and keeping my phone on do not disturb but constantly checking my notifications and stuff like that just shows that you lack whatever you are trying to convince yourself that you have. but this time around seeing that message, I felt very unfazed and indifferent. I didn't even respond to their messages, cause I didn't care about them anymore. to me, they were pathetic for even sending that message, knowing that I didn't care because I wasn't gonna forget how they had treated me when I was being genuine with them. but if you have a person that you want to manifest a love message from but actually want a relationship with them so manifesting it is a little bit more difficult for you, The same method applies. for the third guy, I actually did like him and I wanted to start something with him, which makes sense as in why it took longer for him to reach out compared to the other two boys, but when he did reach out, he called me and we were able to have a conversation and talk everything out and reconnect with each other which was the perfect instance compared to a text where you can't really connect with a person the same way. so once again, everything worked out perfectly in my favor. have passionate faith in your manifestation and have a unshakable sense of self and identity even if that means letting go of old parts of yourself that you would've never thought in 1 million years, you would let go of. sometimes to see big changes in your life you have to make big changes internally. to see different. You have to be different, and I know that it's sometimes a hard thing to digest but be patient with yourself. cry if you need to, get out everything that needs to get out of you so that you can rebirth yourself as your true identity because this is who we all are. God.

Yasssssss 🩷🩷🩷 I loved ittt thank you for sharing this, that’s ittt everything it’s so easy ��🏻

[ponderingmoonlight]

I wonder, could we request 2 prompts? Cause I had an idea where Gojo with prompt 11, how about Gojo confronting us after the whole “ Getou calling us a monkey and trying to kill us indecent” and out here searching high and low for him, driving out our physical health and mental health is decreasing. We get into an argument with him until we breakdown then prompt 66 comes in and Gojo comforts us and stays with us ( hurt with comfort is my guilty pleasure)

Oh I absolutely adore this idea, let’s do this! Let me know what you think 🖤 11. "You're not fine. You need to rest."

66. "Time for bed. Come on."

You saved me

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader; former!Geto Suguru x reader

Word count: 2k

Synopsis: After your former boyfriend Suguru tried to kill you for being a non-jujutsu sorcerer, you fall into a deep depression. Satoru tries to reach out and help you through it, but you refuse to let him near you. Until he takes matters into his own hands.

Warnings: death, language, hurt, depression, abuse of drugs/alcohol

“He’s dead, (y/n). There was no choice but to take his life. Even Suguru wasn’t strong enough to outstand Yuta. Shoko said she’ll be able to stitch you up completely and that you’ll be healthy again. I’ll meet up with you tomorrow, okay?”

You sign and take another sip of the scorching whiskey in front of you. What time is it? You don’t know. To be honest you lost track of time long ago. After Suguru, your boyfriend of more than five years, called you a monkey and almost killed you for being a non-jujutsu sorcerer, you quit your job and moved further away. With some strip shows here and there you can just keep your head above water – it’s enough to pay for alcohol and your worn-down apartment at least.

That dreadful day changed you completely. You no longer wear a loving smile on your lips, your sundresses lie in the garbage as well as your dignity. You let your hair grow out and dyed it a completely different colour. At this point your curves are completely gone, eaten up by alcohol and lack of sleep. Your tired eyes are sunken and always adorned by dark circles. If you were seen on the street, not even Satoru would be able to recognize you anymore.

Satoru…You haven’t checked in with him since Shoko stitched you up over a year ago. Not that he didn’t try to talk to you. To this day he calls you multiple times a week and sends you countless messages, asking where you are and how you’ve been. You can tell that he’s truly worried about you, but you simply can’t let him see you like this, all worn down and consumed by grief.

The alcohol sometimes made you forget your own name, some nights even his. Your pain swallowed you after you realized that your whole life was a lie, that Suguru did in fact not care about you at all. Satoru just reminds you of your past, the agony you are so eagerly trying to forget. And that’s why you’re sitting here, inside an empty bar late at night with the 10th drink in your hand, head already completely numb and tired eyes covered by a pair of cheap sunglasses.

“Rough day, huh?”

You down the whole whiskey glass and order a new one without looking at the stranger that seems to talk to you.

“Rough life”, you comment dryly.

“So rough that you’re not even recognizing me.”

Your gaze shoots up, mind barely able to process what he’s saying. But this white hair you’d still recognize from miles away.

“How did you find me, Satoru?”

The wounds you hid so well over the past couple of days rip open immediately at his sight. He looks as good as usual, hair a little less fluffy than a year ago. But the bright smile he wears on his lips seems to stay the same no matter how old he his. Yes, it seems like he was able to move on and live his life – how good for him.

“You hid so well that it took me some time. And because you haven’t given any sign of life for a year, I thought I’d just stop by, y’know”, he declares casually.

“Maybe, just maybe I didn’t answer because I didn’t wanna be found by you. I’m fine, no need to worry”, you mutter, gaze glued to the dirty table.

“You’re not fine. You need to rest, (y/n).”

The sound of his voice is so unknown serious that you can’t help but stare at him. Satoru’s facial expression changed completely, cheeky grin gone with the wind. You can see his blue orbs staring at you through the shade of his sunglasses, inspecting you precisely. Did he really just come here to tell you to rest? How fucking stupid.

“What the hell are you talking about? I was just minding my own business when you came around after one year, only to tell me that I look like shit? Guess what Satoru, I don’t need your fucking help. Leave me alone.”

His presence robs you the air to breath. You jump up, throw two bills on the counter and stumble to the exit. The fresh air of the night hits you like a wall and makes it hard to inhale for a moment. Who does this fucker think he is to tell you what to do? You did just fine before he came along and now you’re feeling like crap all over again.

“(y/n), don’t run away from me. I’m faster anyway!”

“Just stop following me, idiot!”

“Don’t run away, then! Stop acting like a brat!”

Your limbs begin to shake in nothing but thick fury, mind clouded by alcohol and drugs.

“I don’t want you near me, Satoru!”, you cry out.

The ground underneath your feet seems to shake, you fall onto the wet street like a sack of rice. Your gut begins to turn uncomfortably, that feeling is way too familiar for you. Before you are able to tie your hair into a ponytail, the liquid of today leaves you in a gush and spills onto the tarmac.

“Gosh, I would love to take a picture of you now. But that’s actually not funny anymore.”

Satoru’s hand wraps around your hair and hold them up while his other arm prevents you from falling over into your own vomit. Tears pool your eyes, throat burning all over from the liqueur. It’s been a while since you had to puke because of alcohol, not the best feeling to be honest. You sob to yourself silently, body shaking like an earthquake from retching dryly.

“Someday I will drink enough to forget his name”, you choke out, arms trembling from the cold and exhaustion.

“You will never drink enough to forget him. Trust me, I tried.”

You wipe your mouth unladylike and sit up, world around you still twisting and turning.

“You’re not the only one who lost someone that night. He was my best friend, the only one I’ve ever had (y/n). It broke me to let him go. But what pains me even more is that you let yourself go this critically, completely lost in your grief and cut off contact with me, just like that. I am your friend too, (y/n). We could have gotten through this together. Instead, you chose to stay high and drunk to keep him off your mind. Let me tell you that sooner or later, past will catch up with you. No drug in the world will make you forget the feelings you’ve had for him.”

The way Satoru’s voice breaks makes you stare up at him with tears swelling up your eyes. To be honest, you never thought about Satoru’s feelings in all of this. Guilty conscience creeps up your spine and takes your breath away. Fuck, why do his words have to make so much sense?

“Why would you want to keep in touch with me? Maybe Suguru is right. Maybe I am nothing more than a monkey after all. And a bad friend on top”, you breathe out.

Satoru can’t believe his ears. Do you really think that you are worth less because you are a non-jujutsu sorcerer?

“(y/n), don’t you dare even thinking about that being true. Suguru was so wrong for all of this. And I get why you’re trying to forget him. Just let me help you getting through this, yeah? Let’s be there for each other.”

He stretches out his hand in front of you, a warm smile caressing his lips.

“Why would you try to help be after I left you alone?”

He may be fucking stupid and unserious from time to time, but Satoru has a heart of gold. Maybe the abused doesn’t necessarily have to become the abuser.

“Why? Because we’re friends, dumbass.”

A smile laugh escapes your lips, hands frantically washing away your salty tears. Oh, Satoru. Where would you be without him and his constant support? Probably dead, crushed under Suguru’s curse. And today? Sooner or later you’d probably kill yourself with alcohol and drugs.

You lay your shaky hand into his. With a swift motion, he lifts you up and embraces you into a tight hug. God, it feels so good to be finally held again. Maybe this is what you needed after rejecting any physical affection from other people for more than 10 years for Suguru’s sake. He smells so good, fresh like a morning in summer. And the heat of his body stops your delicate frame from shaking uncontrollably. Tears run down your cheek like a waterfall, soaking into his uniform in an instant. Satoru just stands there, arms tightly wrapped around you and his head laid on top of yours.

Something inside you snaps. You cry out in pain and grief, sobbing against his chest while he stays silent and lets you have your moment of sorrow. It must have been hard for you to deal with all of this shit alone, everything and everyone reminding you of Suguru. But Satoru is all the more pleased that you are finally allowing your feelings and that you can find comfort in his arms. Slowly but surely your sobbing gets softer and your body stops shaking. Hopefully you feel better now.

“You look tired. Do you live far away from here?”, he requests when you stayed silent for a few minutes.

“Just around the corner. You don’t have to stay though, looks pretty shabby.”

“Like you, that doesn’t stop me though. Time for bed, come on.”

Half an hour later he lays by your side, your body showered for the first time in a while and covered by his way too big t-shirt. Satoru’s arm casually hangs around your shoulder, gaze fixed on the ceiling above. Even in darkness his eyes shine like diamonds - absolutely mesmerizing. It feels so good to be finally held again, to not be alone with your depressing thoughts late at night.

“Why didn’t you just give up on me?”

“How could I do that? You are an absolute sunshine. I owe you so many moments of joy, laughter and good memories. I would rather die than give you up, especially when you need me. Jujutsu sorcerer or not, the world would be a so much worse place without a ray of sunshine like you on it.”

You burry your head in his chest when a new wave of tears threatens to overcome you. What a nice human he is. Despite everything you both been through, after all the pain he had to endure, the affection he holds for you in his eyes is the same as 10 years ago. He will after look after you, be there when you need a shoulder to cry on, will catch you when you fall. It’s you and Satoru against the world with Suguru always in your grieving hearts.

“You saved me again, Satoru”, you whisper into the silence of the room.

“We saved each other, (y/n).”

You smile to yourself, head laying comfortable against his chest. Maybe everything will be alright and you’ll be able to get over the trauma of the last years. Not today, but with Satoru’s help you to eventually get over it.

It just takes time.

[skyward-floored]

I’ve been in a Sky mood lately lol. So for prompts maybe something angsty with him? Like him getting used to life after being trapped on the island for years? Or one of the boys trying to reassure themselves that he’s actually back?

I saw this prompt and went HEHEHE I do enjoy me my angst. Especially Incredibles au Sky angst (sorry Sky bdhdbdbdhd)

I sort of mixed your two prompts together? It’s mostly the first one, but there’s hints of the second. And also a different thing entirely XD Enjoy!

(Also warning for a character getting a flashback. It’s seen from an outside perspective, but here’s your warning just in case.)

————————————————————

Sometimes Warriors still couldn’t believe Sky was back.

After over a year of trying to come to terms with his disappearance, wrestling with hope and denial and grief, going to his funeral for Hylia’s sake— having him suddenly come back was… earth-shattering. In a good way, of course, but sometimes Warriors caught himself falling into the pattern of endless questions on what had happened, and had to remind himself that he knew now.

Sky had been tricked, lured away, fought for survival while being hunted within an inch of his life, and then finally made it home alive. Though… not without scars.

Ones that sometimes caught Warriors off guard.

He wasn’t unfamiliar with unseen scars, ones that plagued the mind rather than just the body. He had several himself, and it was rare a week went by that he didn’t have at least one nightmare.

But Sky... Sky had been gone for over a year.

And despite how he tried to hide it, he wasn’t okay.

The specific afternoon it happened, Warriors had stopped at Sky’s to drop off some things he’d borrowed, and ended up staying and talking much longer than he’d intended. He was hardly complaining though. After thinking he’d never get moments like this again, he’d spend every waking hour with his brother he could, even if it meant he’d be late coming home.

“…So then Aryll told me she made a new friend, and asked me if I wanted to meet her, and of course I said yes. I should’ve known better, because five seconds later she whistles, and this huge vulture lands in front of me,” Sky said with a wave of his hand, and Warriors laughed. “I know! Where did she even meet a vulture?!”

“Probably the same place she met those geese that one time,” Warriors said with a grin, and Sky joined his laughter that time.

“Oh I’m sure. She has plenty of bird connections,” he chuckled, leaning back with his wings stretched out on either side of himself. “I’m sure she’ll have quite the message system worked out when she’s older.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Warriors smirked. “Heck you won’t even need the mail service if she keeps up like this, just ask her to send letters via pigeon.”

“Hm that’s true… I’d never have to buy stamps again,” Sky said thoughtfully.

“Hey now, don’t forget those stamps help pay my salary,” Warriors grinned, and Sky laughed again. A truck outside beeped as it backed up, and Warriors glanced out the window before looking back inside. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying… Sky?”

Sky had completely frozen in place, his glass of water slipping from his hand.

Warriors quickly waved a hand as it hit the floor, freezing the puddle before it could spread, then got off his chair and hurried to Sky’s side. The cup hadn’t broken so he left it where it was, and he looked worriedly at his brother.

“Sky? Are you okay?” he asked urgently, and a tremor wracked through Sky, his eyes glazing over. He’d been fine mere moments ago, what was wrong? “…Sky?”

“We need to hide,” Sky whispered, his voice hoarse.

Warriors blinked. “What?”

Sky swallowed, shaking as he stared into the middle distance. “We need to hide, they’re coming,” he stressed in a croak, his breathing starting to pick up. “Guardians, they’re close.”

“Sky… there are no guardians here,” Warriors said in confusion, and Sky shook his head, ears twitching.

“There’s one right over there,” he gasped, his breath trembling. “We need to hide, it’s going to—”

“Sky, no there isn’t,” Warriors said slowly, sitting down beside his brother. “There’s nothing there.”

“B-but—” Sky stuttered, twisting his head around to look at the wall. A bead of sweat trailed down his brow. “Yes it is. It is, it’s coming, we need to hide now.”

Sky pulled his wings in close to his body, feathers puffing up, and Warriors looked at him in dismay, unsure of what to do. He knew enough to recognize Sky was having some sort of flashback, but he didn’t know how to help him out of it.

The truck outside beeped again, and Sky violently flinched, nearly falling off the couch as his feathers puffed out even more. Warriors looked between him and the window, then carefully stood and walked over to it, closing it and blocking out the sound. Sky didn’t visibly react to the quiet, and Warriors went back over to him, watching as he trembled in place.

“Sky, we’re not on the island,” Warriors began carefully as he sat back down. “You haven’t been there for weeks now. And I wasn’t ever on the island, how can I be here with you if we’re there?”

“I-I...” Sky stammered, his voice faltering. Then he suddenly snatched Warriors’ wrists, eyes huge. “Wars they got you too, you shouldn’t have come, it’s going to be like everyone else,” he choked out, still shaking. “We have to hide!”

Sky began tugging at his wrists, but Warriors resisted the movement, staying where he was. “Sky, there’s no danger.”

“Yes there is! I have a base right over there, we can get to it if we hurry, we can’t let him—”

“Sky, we’re not on the island,” Warriors repeated, slipping his wrists out of Sky’s hold and taking his hands instead. His skin felt clammy. “I promise you we’re not. We’re in your house. We’re safe.”

Sky kept shaking, but he didn’t argue the point, and Warriors felt a flicker of encouragement when he didn’t keep tugging on his hands.

“You’re not back there,” Warriors repeated, and Sky squeezed his eyes shut, another bead of sweat trailing down his brow. “You’re in your house, on the couch in your living room. Sun is at work, and Aryll is taking a nap. Nobody is in any danger.”

Sky trembled in his seat, his eyes still closed tight, and Warriors lightly squeezed his hands, waiting for him to come back. His eyes reopened, still looking frantic, but less so than before.

“Come on Link,” Warriors whispered, looking into Sky’s eyes. “You’re safe here, I promise. Nothing is trying to hurt you.”

Sky swallowed, and Warriors stayed beside him, watching as his feathers slowly began to smooth. Warriors repeated the reassurance that they weren’t on the island, and he kept it up as Sky’s frantic breathing started to even out, and his eyes gradually cleared.

It felt like a long time before Sky’s shoulders slumped, his wings falling limp as he took in a shaky breath. He was still trembling, but much more lightly, and Warriors studied his face.

“You back?” Warriors asked carefully, and Sky looked at his lap, shame coloring his face.

“I... I think so. Sorry,” Sky whispered.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Warriors said easily, but Sky kept looking at his lap, ears red.

Warriors looked at him worriedly, then lightly squeezed his hands, pulling back so he could deal with the frozen puddle on the floor. He easily pried it up and shaped it into a small ball, then set it on the table, looking back at Sky again.

“Hey. I mean it,” Warriors said when he saw his expression, lightly touching Sky’s shoulder, light enough that he could pull away if he wanted. Sky didn’t, and so Warriors held it a bit tighter. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s not your fault.”

“I was the one stupid enough to go there,” Sky muttered under his breath, and Warriors frowned.

“Sky, you were tricked. You thought you were doing something good, it’s not your fault,” Warriors repeated, and Sky didn’t meet his eyes. Warriors sighed. “That looked pretty rough. Do you want some water?”

“I’d appreciate that,” Sky said quietly.

Warriors nodded and stood, giving his shoulder a squeeze before he grabbed Sky’s glass and headed to the kitchen to refill it. It only took him a moment, and when he returned, Sky hadn’t moved, still staring at his lap, faintly trembling, wings lightly wrapped around himself.

Warriors passed him the cup, and Sky silently took it, sipping without a word.

“You need anything else?” Warriors asked, and Sky shook his head. Warriors hummed in reply, then paused as he thought of something. It wasn’t Warriors’ go-to, but Sky usually appreciated physical contact much more than him, especially since he’d been back. “...maybe a hug?”

Sky finally looked up, still shaky and pale, and gave a tiny nod.

Warriors gave him a sad smile, then leaned in, wrapping his arms around his brother.

Sky was stiff for a moment, then practically melted into the touch, a wavering sigh coming from him. He pressed his face against Warriors’ shoulder, and Warriors lightly rubbed his back, feeling equally reassured by the touch. He knew Sky had been through a lot, but the blatant show of it had been a bit frightening.

Oh Sky.

“I’m such a disaster,” Sky said in a wobbly voice, and Warriors sighed.

“Anyone would be. Truth be told, I think most of us became disasters while you were gone, so you’re in good company.”

Sky let out a wet snort, and Warriors squeezed him, Sky still shaking just a little.

“Has this happened before?” Warriors asked after a minute, pulling back so he could see Sky’s face, and Sky shrugged.

“Not... to that extent,” he admitted quietly. “There’ve been... things, but not...”

He trailed off weakly, and Warriors nodded. That was about what he’d figured.

“Okay. Well... we’ll figure this out. Just like old times, huh?” Warriors said with a faint smile, and Sky huffed.

“Yeah. Can’t say I miss that side of things,” he mumbled, and Warriors squeezed his arm again.

“I’ll stay until Sun comes back,” he reassured quietly, and Sky nodded, silently resting his head against Warriors’ shoulder again.

Neither of them said much else after that, and Warriors idly played with the piece of ice on the table, Sky watching him quietly as he shaped it into a small bird. Warriors added some ice to it, and worked on shaping it into a slightly bigger one, the kind Sky especially liked.

Sky stayed silent as he leaned against him, and Warriors tried not to stare, worry clenching in his stomach. Nightmares were common enough between them, though they’d gotten better as the years had gone on. Warriors had practice with those, and panic attacks, and a small list of the other crap they all dealt with after their superhero careers, but this… felt way out of his league.

We’ll figure this out, he promised silently, adding small feathers to the bird he was shaping in his palms. Sky breathed out a weary sigh, and Warriors swallowed.

We will. We’ll figure it out.

[veturiusofserra]

no te puedo olvidar | rafe cameron

rafe cameron x latina!reader

summary: Rafe reflects on his past love and the life he could have had, while finding contentment in his present with Sofia and their children

author note: te quiero muchissimo PR (i’ve never been there

genre: angst

I opened my eyes and stared at the vastness in front of me. The blue sea shimmered, and the gentle breeze brought a refreshing sense of coolness. The idyllic scene was even more perfect with my family enjoying that sunny day on our boat. Leo, Isabella, and Sebastian were playing in the water while Sofia stretched out in the sun, soaking in each ray with a lazy smile. Their cousin Lily, Sarah and John B’s daughter, was with them, and that particular moment brought a wave of nostalgia.

Not nostalgia for my sister, no. She was doing well, taking care of her two kids and her women’s clothing store with the same determination as always. The nostalgia I felt was more complex, like a distant echo of a path that could have been different but never materialized.

Every now and then, I catch myself thinking about the “what ifs”... What would my life have been if I hadn’t forgiven Sofia? If I hadn’t married her, if my children hadn’t come from that love? What if I had held on to my hatred for Sarah and kept my distance? What if I had been braver, changed in time, and not lost the great love of my life?

These are the questions that sometimes haunt us, no matter how hard we try to move on. But life is like this, a tangle of choices that take us down unexpected paths, and that’s why, when I look at my present, I can’t help but feel grateful.

I am happy, I tell myself this every day. But sometimes, my mind wanders, imagining a different “me” who would have built a future beside her, beside another love. Not Sofia. No, that story is different. It was her... the woman I dreamed of growing old with, the one I imagined seeing our children play on places like this, growing up, building a life together. But she’s gone now. And now, she only lives in my memories.

“Dad, don’t you want to come in? The water’s really nice.” Isabella’s sweet voice interrupts my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. She looks at me with her blue eyes, so much like mine but with a touch of her mother’s. Isabella, my precious daughter. Her existence was like a new beginning for me. And, ironically, her name had been chosen many years ago, in another life, with a woman who doesn’t even know about my daughter, but who lives in my memory. Our daughter would have been Bella too, "the most beautiful of all," as we used to dream.

“This old man isn’t quite in the mood to get in, but enjoy it for me. And don’t forget to use the floaties.” I smile, trying not to show the whirlwind of thoughts that’s still forming inside me.

She’s my carbon copy, what more could I ask for? She’s my greatest accomplishment. From the moment I found out she existed, I changed completely to be worthy of her love.

Sebastian, our youngest, is 11 and as stubborn as they come. His sun-bleached blond hair and his passion for surfing remind me of how I was when I was younger. He has Sofia’s lightness and smile, but the stubbornness... ah, that he got from me. Then there’s Leo, our Alexander, better known as Leo. 17. He’s the most introspective of the three. With his always-messy hair and nerdy demeanor, he loves the sea, water, the ocean. He’s the reason we are visiting Puerto Rico. Leo reminds me of Wheezy, the way he expresses himself and gets lost in his own thoughts.

In a way, I love them more than I can explain. They are the best parts of me, everything I’ve always dreamed of having. And even though the past still haunts me, even though I can’t let go of the image of a woman I’ll never see again, what I lived with Sofia, the children we have together... that gives me a sense of purpose that keeps me grounded.

—

“Rafe, it’s time to go!” Kelce’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. I roll my eyes and take another sip of beer. The heat was unbearable, and I had no idea who the genius was who let the drink get warm.

It was a party night, the kind where you don’t really know why you’re there, but you end up going just because. Kelce and Top were excited, and of course, I was tagging along. Someone had to keep those two in check, as always.

The music was loud, the heat annoying as fuck, and the party’s vibe was tepid at best. Until she arrived. She, who would turn the night into something completely different. The most beautiful, the most fascinating. The mermaid of the seas of Latin America, with her slender body and smile that could melt any resistance. She had something in her presence that destabilized everything around her, and, as always, I found myself lost in her orbit.

“My future wife is here. I can’t leave her alone.” I said, laughing, already feeling like an idiot but unable to resist. The irony was that Sofia was also at the party, but, at that moment, that woman was the only one who existed for me.

And it was there, at that party, that I found the courage to approach her. It was there that she smiled at me for the first time, her eyes sparkling and a laugh full of promises. She was willing to teach me how to dance salsa because, according to her, anyone who hung out with her had to have rhythm — even white boys like me.

And believe me, it was impossible not to fall for her.

In the following meetings, dancing became our language. I was a complete disaster, with no rhythm at all, but she was incredibly patient. She taught me gently, telling me I was learning fast, when in reality, I could barely keep up with her steps. With each compliment, my heart raced.

But, as with all love that starts strong, it fades when reality pulls us apart. She left the island, in search of what the world had to offer, and I... I stayed behind, with no choice but to cry and let her go, as I always had. The last thing she said to me was: “I’ll come back. I’m leaving my heart here, but I’ll come back to get it, okay?”

It’s been 25 years. She’s probably learned to live without the piece of herself she left with me. I, on the other hand, have never been able to find peace without her.

—

The night wore on, and we decided to go to dinner on the island. We docked the boat at the marina, and we got ready for dinner. Sofia looked stunning in a green dress, which made her eyes shine even more. Bella and Lily were gorgeous in their white dresses, and the boys, as always, in linen shirts and pants, both elegant and casual.

The seaside restaurant was cozy, the kind of place that made you feel at home, even if you were a stranger. The soft light, the music in the background, the scent of the sea in the air. The boys decided to play in the game room, and Sofia accompanied them, curious. I sat at the table, observing the surroundings, when a conversation caught my attention.

I heard the voice of a woman with her children. The boy, about 8 years old, seemed to be pleading for a dog, while the mother, patient, explained that he still needed to learn to take care of the pets they already had at home. It was a simple conversation, but it touched me strangely, like an echo of something I already knew. The dynamic felt familiar, and somehow, I felt like a part of that scene.

And then he appeared. The man of the family. She stood up, turned, and I realized. The familiar voice. The smile, that smile. I froze. My body recognized her before my mind did.

It was her. The woman I never managed to let go.

In that moment, all the “what ifs” that haunted me, all the unanswered questions about what could have been, came rushing back. I knew life didn’t offer second chances. And, as much as I tried to ignore it, the truth was simple: she still lived inside of me, like a piece of a story that never ended.

And maybe it never would.

I could stand up, casually say, “Hey, long time no see.” I could walk up to her, haunt her with the weight of what time doesn’t erase. Plant doubts in her feelings, bring to the surface everything we left unresolved, without answers, without closure. The idea of making her question what we were, what could have been, would, in a way, be an act of silent revenge. But instead, I stand up and head toward the game room, where my family is.

My family. They are what I have left.

I could have taken another path, but I chose this one. And, in a way, I feel at peace with this choice. As if, deep down, I know I have to keep living my life, without the “what ifs,” without regrets. I lost my sun, and, as much as that burns inside me, I still have the moon. A moon that glows and keeps me company in the lonely nights when her memory comes back with force. Maybe, in another life, our paths will cross again, and who knows, we’ll be what we couldn’t be here.

Because, deep down, I know I’ll never be able to erase her from me. She will always be a part of what I was, what I am.

Maybe I won’t have the “forever” I imagined, but I have this memory of a love that was whole while it lasted. And even though the pain of her absence stays with me, I will keep living, loving, breathing, dancing. As if, in every movement, in every step I take, she is still with me, in the beat of my heart and in the rhythm of my life.

I know time will heal me, but it won’t erase what we were. I will keep loving, even in silence, even if she doesn’t know. Because I can’t forget you, and maybe I never will. And that’s okay. I know that, even if the path has been lost, what I lived with you will be what I carry with me until the end of my days. Like a song that, even after many years, never stops playing.

Dividers by my dear @tsunami-of-tears

It’s weird the way I write? Because I write in Portuguese and then translate it to English.

[lordeemailarchive]

how I’ve been, revised

(20/09/2023) (Solar Institute Bulletin No. 22) (From London)

Aftershow quiet in Helsinki

Hey,

I just finished writing you a long letter, catching you up on how I’ve been. It ended neatly, tied with a little bow. I chose my words well, but I didn’t tell the truth. So I’m starting again, gonna type and not look back, and send what comes out.

I’m in London, have been since May. Things feel clear here. I haven’t seen many friends; mostly, I’m alone with my thoughts. I go swimming, I go to work, I walk home or take the train, I eat in my kitchen, I go to bed thinking about what I’m making. I’m starting to miss my friends and family, like a vitamin I’m deficient in. Soon I’ll be going back to New York, and then home.

I’m living with heartbreak again. It’s different but the same. I ache all the time, I forget why and then remember. I’m not trying to hide from the pain, I understand now that pain isn’t something to hide from, that there’s actually great beauty in moving with it. But sometimes I’m sick of being with myself. I eat chocolate to try and manipulate the endorphins, bring back the sweet happiness of Easter morning. I sit in the time machine and wait for it to move, but it hasn’t been invented yet.

My body is really inflamed, it’s trying to tell me something and I’m trying to support it but nothing seems to help and I get frustrated. My gut isn’t working properly, my skin is worse than ever, I’ve gotten sick half a dozen times. I realised earlier this year that listening to my body is hard for me, it’s something I never really learned how to do. I’ve been trying to teach myself that this year, but it’s been hard actually, pretty confronting, has made me fully aware of all the times I ignored it or didn’t give it what it needed, shamed it for a fight or flight response, took a handful of pills and pushed through. The little yellow pill I took every morning for thousands of mornings since I was 15, I stopped taking it 5 days ago. Gonna see how it goes.

I go online and look at everyone. Beautiful people sing to me. Everyone’s gotten really good at the same thing. I look at arched backs and wet flower mouths, the right bag, the right sunglasses. I wonder if it feels as good as it looks, it’s been so long since I chose the best picture from a hundred, lined it up like pulling an arrow taut in a bow, and let it go. Everyone looks very thin. Just thinking that makes me feel tired and far away. I’m not sure if it’s having an effect on anyone else. I keep spending money, wondering if what’s in the package will make me feel right, but I guess I buy the wrong things. I was gonna go to fashion week in Paris, had all these grand plans, but this week I txted my manager and pulled out. At the start of my career I promised myself I’d never be one of the people in the light smiling if it wasn’t real.

Earlier this year, I ate two handfuls of mushrooms, solid doses that tasted like green dirt. I got a lot of information about what my body had been through in our time so far, what it needed, where God was and where God wasn’t; I felt in my bones how destabilising it is to leave home and start a new life the way I did. I also saw that my body is completely magnificent, and that hating it is as futile as hating a tree; that I truly, truly love doing my job, and that my life is like a beautiful tapestry, and every inch of it is precious and has meaning.

It might seem funny or be easy to forget, but I make records because I need to. The songs are spells; a spell to let go of something, a spell to unlock a door. Every time I put something into words just as I see it, set it to the right music, a knot comes loose in me. But it hurts too, confronting the knots. I’ve made enough records to know that this feeling of my skin coming off is part of it. I know I’m gonna look back on this year with fondness and a bit of awe, knowing it was the year that locked everything into place, the year that transitioned me from my childhood working decade to the one that comes next — one that even through all this, I’m so excited for. It’s just hard when you’re in it.

So in this state, I went out on a short European festival tour. We built a cool new version of the show in a couple days. It was good to change gears and get out of my head. I put effort into the show, changing the setlist and arrangements, it was cool how you picked up on that, and it felt good dancing to the new versions with you, looking out at you, all sweaty with your friends, all on the same drugs. I felt the throb of history that’s under this music now, how each year makes these songs feel more like collectively written and sung pieces. I left my body and merged with yours and it was ecstasy. Then I went home to a business hotel and washed the glitter and smoke out of my hair.

Lauren took some beautiful pictures — sharing a few with you here.

Backstage in Portugal.

Cute Polaroid series of the 6pm, 8pm, and 10pm versions of me on a show day.

I’ve read some great books recently, including Drive Your Plow over the Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk, Speedboat by Renata Adler, Motherhood by Sheila Heti, Rough Translations by Molly Giles (brought into my life by sweet angel bookworm Chris Chang), Birds of America by Lorrie Moore; am waiting on my copies of ĀRIA by Jessica Hinerangi and Te Ana Ata: Menstruation In The Pre-Colonial Maori World by Ngāhuia Murphy. Was given Wawata - Moon Dreaming by Dr. Hinemoa Elder which I’m loving looking to as the Maramataka evolves.

It was Te Wiki o Te Reo Māori last week, I loved listening to this from London. This vid from Hemi showing the similarities between te reo Māori and ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi is so sick.

Been meaning to tell you about The Kindness Institute too, a mental health resource for Māori rangatahi that has recently lost government funding. Go check out the beautiful, necessary mahi they’re doing — I know the cost of living is cooked for Kiwis right now and pop stars asking people to donate sux, but if you work at a good sized company maybe you can wrangle a donation from your employers?! I’m gonna email my record company about it.

Other bits that have inspired lately:

Dieter Rams’ principle of “as little design as possible”. This fantastic interview with Thom Yorke. Maddie’s unbelievably beautiful Melo inspired tattoo.

Loving the beautiful new Troye songs and vids, Kelela’s Raven hitting right on the e-bike rides home, late to the magic of Frou Frou but glad I’m here, and the rest of my brain is M.T. Hadley, this great Te Whanganui-a-Tara based band Womb, and Talk Talk. And for those it concerns, have been pilled by parasocial big cousins Jason and Chris. My mum just sent me a Sylvia Plath poem that feels like it sums up the above, I’ll copy it here:

They thought death was worth it, but I Have a self to recover, a queen. Is she dead, is she sleeping? Where has she been, With her lion-red body, her wings of glass?

Now she is flying More terrible than she ever was, red Scar in the sky, red comet Over the engine that killed her— The mausoleum, the wax house.

Sylvia Plath, "Stings"

Hope you’re taking care of yourself. Don’t worry about me, I still laugh every day, it’s all moving, even when it goes slow. I’ve accepted the mission — I have a self to recover.

Speak soon, E X X X X X

(source: received this email)

[s-ephiroth]

i often thought, through all these years, like

"i'll leave this fandom someday"

i've seen people come and go, i've seen people completely delete and vanish and i've tried to mourn the hole they left behind when they went

(tried to, because i'm not good at mourning, i feel... i'm better at coping, at entering survival mode and just pushing through, and hiding the tears for when nobody is looking; i mourn extremely messy and never ending... i mourn any time i title a fic in full lowercase and think of the things icy said back then;

(i mourn when i see pages that will never update again and records of things from years ago — seeing how friends and i were so different back then, less paranoid, perhaps more carefree, less pained by the weight of world; seeing once busy chat rooms fall quiet even though people are still there, seeing people change fandoms... i mourn now even though i'm making a silly pun on a friend's stream chat)

i thought that one day i would be the next one to go, too

because somewhere in this world there are people who can't simply let others enjoy stuff on their corner or people who can't just give you a rejection email like a normal person and have to dodge a block to mock you, there are people out there who can't just say "i dislike this thing" and move on, instead coming up with convoluted excuses for why the thing is bad, while basking in equally messy stuff to what they bash

there are stalkers, there are people who go on your ao3 fic to ask why you blocked them, there are cowards who send people anon hate for months, people who crap comment on bookmarks, bullies who persist for years

there's a lot of bad and i often thought "maybe i'll be the next one to go... but... will someone miss me, when i go?"

the pessimist in me says people would miss me for a while, then forget

maybe eventually someone would be like "where are the prompts for sc/seph weeks?" and i would've been missed for a moment, then forgotten again

surely someone would come up with replacement events, maybe not

it would be okay... perhaps

the world keeps spinning and i'm but a little rock rolling along the river of time, as they say; ultimately, on my own i'm near powerless

i can't fully protect people i admire from their bullies, i can't stop drama bs from happening, i can barely bring myself to be creative quite often because my energy is limited

i can't rewind time and prevent one of my friends from being traumatized for life

surely one day i would be the next one to go; my self-esteem isn't very high, i don't really think of myself as too important

hell i almost died twice before, due to things outside of my control, i think of my own mortality and how fleeting stuff is a lot more than i'm willing to admit

probably someone like me would be the next to go, from fandom i mean, is what i think when i see people stop doing things they loved because others were evil to them

"surely, this time i'll not come back to public with art, it's not like some silly chibis are desired, it's not like my computer is robust enough, i was never given an excuse for why exactly i was rejected from that zine, maybe it was personal bias but maybe just maybe i really should fail, maybe what i do is not enough anyway... maybe if i come back those kinds of people will hunt me down like prey... but hey it's valentine's day, what if i force myself to do something"

it's not like anyone would've cared much, anyway

i could be the next one to go; the remake brought in too many ill intended people and icy was right in leaving, remake changed the climate

but for every single discourse bs that happens, for every no life person who manipulates others, even though there are too many people who have to touch grass

sometimes... sometimes you appreciate a piece of good fan art for 4 years, often going back from time to time to share it with others, looking at it when things feel too hard and the artist comes back to it, redraws it

and you just think "fuck... i need to do something too!!! i've thought of the original so much, i watched from afar for too long, it watered my dying crops over and over and over"

and i do... and i befriend the artist somehow? and there's official material related to the subject matter, and i befriend other people too and fuck, fuck, fuck—

turns out there way more people than i thought into the subject matter too!!! and even more official material coming out after years of just having this one shortish game to go by, the one thing to bring me into the fandom in the first place

and i just think

"i can't leave... i like it here, i hope no one takes this from me, i'll gladly shield people if i have to, i'll throw hands if i have to"

and suddenly, i can't be the next one to go and this post is turning much longer than i expected it to, while i'm bawling my eyes out from being too emotional while watching a stream

and you, reading this, as long as you're an innocent bystander who contributes in some way, even if you just mostly lurk and don't get involved much? you shouldn't go either

the world is a fuck on fire right now, but maybe you make it less so, for someone

maybe you're someone's favorite artist or writer or cosplayer; maybe someone is still waiting on that fic you haven't updated in like 3 years or maybe someone's seeing you go on hiatus and worrying, "will... will i see you again?"

you never know

maybe you'll indeed, move fandoms some day, find another place to lurk in with people you can affectionately call your "favorite losers" or maybe life will get too busy, maybe you need a short break to detox

but while that doesn't happen, please don't go?

please don't go

[klunkcat]

2024 Writing Roundup

tagged by @goodlucktai MWAH <3

Words Posted:

92,074

Additional Words Written:

the sheer magnitude of my google doc file count consisting of half buried wips and also rambles about my own dnd character would kill a small child

Fandoms:

TMNT

Trigun

its weird bc I was into like several things this year but also nothing stuck in my old brain soup so here's hoping 2025 makes me more deranged in new and exciting ways

Highest kudos + Highest Hit One-Shot:

I think forget me nots tbh for both lol

New Things I Tried:

collabing! if you somehow missed the gioverse collab fic thing w me and rem and tai and sol, well.

Fic I Spent The Most Time On:

absolutely the thing that buries me I have genuinely had this as a wip in my docs for over a year

Fic I Spent The Least Time On:

that is impossible to tell because I obsessed over all of them for different reasons I fear. maybe the 'kitchen counters' chapter in live to let you shine because I was in a fugue state of insanity

Favourite Thing I Wrote:

sun digs its heels was an ode to my poor baby kitty cat so I think that one

Favourite Thing(s) I Read:

BRO. SO MANY.

If I have to narrow it down...

we know im the number one taizi stan thats the loml but the gioverse truly pulled me into a creativity spiral i have not felt in forever so please read raised on little light immediately. only going up from here is the portal duo vibe forever along with can't help but become the sun. made me cry, worlds were changed.

I was not expecting my fave fic writer from years ago to come back with a sequel to underdark let alone this absolutely insanely good banger of a post rise movie fic along with the current follow up. the way mikey and leo are in this made me feel. agony? I think agony. anyways @plothooksinc 's stuff is really emotional and action packed and gets the characterizations right in such a specifically intense way.

take one for the team by @remedyturtles made me clinically unwell actually, and of course deathwish because sensei is actually i think the depressed millennial of all time. the way rem writes punches me straight through with an emotion I do not know how to name so there's that.

creation of a philosophers stone is so unique to me and about a dynamic with mikey and draxum that I never see really delved into? idk this is some incredible stuff by IgnisCanis

for something completely different, houses like tombs absolutely wrecked me. jjk content is always heartbreaking in this way that knocks me over but this one is so unique. damn.

I really need to remember to bookmark stuff more often because I definitely read way more than this and I have likely forgotten some life changing stuff but what can we do

Writing Goals for 2025:

write more tbh! I have a million google docs but it would be cool to finish more things

New Works:

hadestown au with tai will be real i s2g as will the daemon au, which I am keeping alive with my bare hands thanks. I am currently working on a sequel to running on low which I'm determined to finish sometime in the next few months i hope

With new trigun season coming out.... ambiguously soon... I'm sure I'll be overcome and crazed there, and will definitely finish the thing that buries me asap too

Tagging: 

tagging @byrdybyrd02 and @camsthisky if yall havent done one of these already! and of course anyone who wants to :)

[flameswallower]

A big difference between me and my partner that often causes some problems is that I have a terrible memory-- or, at best, a very inconsistent memory-- and they have a fantastic one.

Now, these differences are present across the board, so they do present some of the problems you're probably thinking about: Shell gets exasperated that I'm always asking them when we're scheduled to do things, that I sometimes forget things I said-- even PROMISED-- I'd do, and that I tell the same jokes and stories repeatedly because I forget that I've already told them. Typical ADHD/non-ADHD couple stuff.

But the biggest problems come from the differences in our autobiographical memories and the ways in which we experience time and selfhood because of those differences. I have the advantage of lightness, flexibility, the ability to change with relative ease, very rarely holding long-term grudges, still feeling upset/self-conscious about things that happened a long time ago,etc. And while I don't see the need to get precious or overly philosophical about the exact nature of my selfhood, I'm not usually distressed that I've been different than I am now, and that I will be different in the future, and that bad shit happened to some guy who doesn't really feel like me anymore. Whatever.

On the other hand, I have the disadvantage that it's hard for me to look far beyond the present in either direction, it's hard for me to plan or to stick to plans, and because I do not remember that much, it's very easy for someone who remembers more to tell me heavily biased or even just untrue things about what happened in my own past-- to which I have no choice except to go "well, I guess, it's not like I have anything to contest that with beyond a gut feeling that it's kind of wrong." Sometimes Shell will tell me I said or did something years ago that still bothers them, and I have to be like, "wow, as described, that's a super shitty thing to do/say, and I'm so sorry that I apparently said/did it. No, I don't remember saying/doing it, and I also can't tell you what I was thinking." And then we both feel kind of gaslit!

I sometimes wish I could remember people who have gone from my life in more detail than I do.

On the other hand, Shell experiences a lot of stuff that would really upset me for, eh, maybe a few months? as traumas that last years and derail their life because they can't forget what happened even a little bit, or put it from their mind. They mourn people, places, and things that have gone very deeply, and the mourning is in a sense permanent. They sometimes get paralyzed in making decisions because they can't stop thinking about everything that led up to making the decision and every possible way it might affect things in the future. I think it is also very hard for them that they remember and carry slights for a long time when others not only don't see those slights as a huge deal, but often don't or barely remember crossing Shell at all. This makes them feel like they aren't important to other people, even though often it's just that other people (even people whose memories aren't as bad as mine) don't remember things as well as they do, especially if they did not experience an event as emotionally charged in the same way Shell did.

But Shell is a great planner, and very smart, and only needs to read or hear or learn something one time to understand it completely. Everyone around here depends on them a lot because of these traits-- though this, too, can be something of a burden!

[cybercritterinyourcomputer]

writing this on a whim because my brain is torturing me about it for some reason and i figured what better place to go than tumblr [this is somewhat sarcasm]. i do not particularly know why i am writing/asking this but im chucking it out there to ease the thoughts so i can go to sleep

to any systems or whatever or really anyone reading who found this through the tags i put here, how did you know you were a system. or plural or how did you start questioning it how did you figure it out. bear with me its past 2 am my writing is atrocious . how did you know if you never knew before?

i dont think im plural, but something wormed its way into my brain today or yesterday and i dont know why or when and and its not the first time this has popped into my brain i think. the thought of what if what if what if but im me. its my me it there its me its my thoughts and there is no other people in my brain just me myself and i. its not quiet it never is but it is just me

i think a clearer question i want to ask is: how can you tell if something is just dpdr[because i fear i may have that, unfortunately it is very likely] or this? this as in osdd or did or whatever

it would appear simple but unfortunately for a lot of my life my sense of self has been so broken and so messy because. fuck all everything happening i guess but its just me, truly. i talk to myself, i draw different versions of myself together, i split myself into many parts to cope with things, to highlight the different parts of me, variants. the wolf, the puppy, the robot, the hermit, the hollow, the dragon, and whatever the Me is i dont know who or what i am when im so many things and nothing at the same time. i didnt completely think about this but also how heavily i relate to certain characters in media but this may just be a nonhuman thing. i see so much of myself in certain characters and so much of them in me sometimes to the point where i dont know where i start and they end. but again i think that is just a nonhuman thing or a coping thing. because its still just me here

where does the age regression and nonhumanity start and where does it end when i rely on my creations of myself to keep me afloat. i only talk to myself through thinking and drawing, i dont talk to anybody else in my head, its all me. and unfortunately theres a pattern where i learn of something and i think about it and i go, "oh, no, no no, that is absolutely not me, never would dream of it! even thinking that i could be that is a crime to all the ones that truly have that!" and then it ends up being too true. the depression, the adhd, the age regression, the therianthropy, the hard denial of abuse, the hard denial of possible autism. my friends speculate i have ptsd or cptsd. i dont want to go down that line of thinking with this, i *know* i dont have it, but the fear

its annoying because ive never really been here present in my body im never really here and the horrors dont end and theres always been something wrong with me but i know its other things. i wont share the details, but the situation ive been in the past 8? months has been horrible horrid no good on my brain i hate being awake. and it feels like someone else took the reins but im still feeling the hurt i still have the memories but they dont feel like mine. my memories have never felt like my own but theyre mine and i have to write everything down or i will forget. i go to work i listen to family shit on me i go to work i do something all day but its not me im still in my room playing a game in my pjs but that was almost a year ago but im still there but i went to work but it wasnt me

because my mind is empty, its just me. it really truly is just me. i think im just lonely. and hoping someone could take me away from everything im always going through or for someone to be there. in my head

there was never anything to make me think this before, a couple times i have but years ago, for no reason, im quite sure its just me. i had imaginary friends as a kid which is normal for kids. i still kind of do but its just me talking to me, im saying two things. i think i just have a lot of possible trauma[i dont believe im traumatized but my friends are quite firm that my entire life has been a shitshow since i was born] and a lot of coping mechanisms plus the fact that i have to pretend for my family and me being trans and me being nonhuman and me so its mostly just that

i dont really know what exactly im even asking. i think im just throwing out a bone and praying for someone to go "yeah dude thats normal youre fine, youre normal" and for my brain to stop ruminating and its annoying. or for someone to ease my curiosity and fear and dread. im throwing out a bone, im begging for someone to glance my way, im begging for someone to tell me its okay. not the begging to be okay but to say that my brain is okay and that my life is okay

[makingspiritualityreal]

Lessons from my Anime Phase

Many years ago, before I matured into my spiritual journey, this used to be an anime blog. I don't regret this phase of my life, even though I completely outgrew it, because I believe it taught me something important.

The content of a creation is more important than the form. There is anime (sadly not as many as you would think) that is a good piece of art. There are regular movies that suck. I'm still waiting for a movie as good at depicting the power of wishful thinking and self repression as Perfect Blue. These years taught me to look deep beyond the surface form and into the meaning of any creation.

Supressing one's emotions leads to serious repercussions. One of the reasons some people find anime so weird is because it is literally an outlet for the collective mentality and emotionality of Japanese societal pressure. It feels exaggerated, but it is a reaction to the external forced numbness and politeness the Japanese society is plagued with. If you don't deal with how you feel regularly and don't express it and process it, if you don't make friends with your demons, you keep bubbling like a cauldron. It leads to having a very edgy, very draining life, not being present with yourself. It leads to not being able to function and ultimately making simple things feel like the end of the world.

Getting older is awesome. I would never come back to my past. Every morning felt like torture. Sometimes, even if life is never perfect, it moves you on in simpler ways that allow for balance. Establishment of healthy routines does wonders for mental peace. The Universe putting you in an environment where you can do that, after years of having that taken away from you, feels blissful. With time comes perspective and you can see your life shaping up and taking you somewhere. That allows you to approach the rest of your life with the same philosophy. I can read this post another 10 years into the future, and think wow, my life got even better. But at least now I try to be relaxed about it and no to overthink how every tiny little thing can go and I don't try to control or micromanage the future, even if it's sometimes hard.

Youth is overrated. Very few people really get to enjoy being young and hot, and those that do, are probably on YouTube's most watched list now. Being young and hot only pays off if you happen to be an artist, you're in a good film, or you're lucky enough to be in a music video. With those things, you build a legacy you will have forever. But most young women spend their youth and beauty on dating guys they wish they could forget in their 30s. At least I can say I spent it on doing the right thing, refining myself, self development and spiritual growth, which I am really proud of. I was younger and "hotter" once, but paradoxically I feel like I'm becoming more beautiful. I had absolutely no benefits from being young. I had no good relationships and everyone irl always criticized me for breathing. I never felt attractive. My highlights were compliments from my online friends, because no one around me actually thought well of me in my physical life. I'm married now, but this is my first serious adult relationship. I didn't have any good relationships with anyone that really appreciated my looks or personality back then. So whatever has passed, hasn't really been used anyway. I was very insecure because I lived surrounded by unfair criticism from many people, who should have been supporting me but betrayed me. Maybe some people have fun in their youth, I honestly didn't. Moving away from all the people that made my youth something I'm glad to put behind me was the best thing that ever happened to me.

Being different growing up is hell for everybody, no matter what form it takes. Being an outcast is probably the number one debilitating thing that makes youth difficult. You have no role models, you have no support, you endure extra pressure. But over time, even those that are different end up finding their place, and they realise they were just different to people around them in their early environment, but they're not that different from the rest of the world, and there is a niche out there for everybody. Even if you have to create one yourself, someone will flock to it. Being yourself trumps compromising your authenticity every day.

[whentommymetalfie]

Tagged by @bouncydragon. Thank you for giving me a chance to ramble!

20 questions for fan fiction writers

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

53

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

642 307 (!)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently only Peaky Blinders

4. Top five fics by kudos

Breathe again, Kiss with a fist, Family is family, Little talks, Shattered and hollow

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to always do that for my WIPs but sometimes I forget to when I get a comment on an older fic. But that doesn't mean I don't read and appreciate them!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I was about to say that I never write angsty endings, because I can't handle them, but then I remembered about whumptober where I dabbled in that, sort of. I think it's a tie between Aversion and Confinement, and even those have a glimpse of hope at the end because I'm just like that.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh that's a tough one, since happy endings are my jam, so I've got plenty. But I think that To live a life, an installment in my first AU has a very happy ending, considering the angst that comes before.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I recall getting like... one really nasty comment once, years ago, but I've completely forgotten what it said, because I just deleted it and was sad about it for a few days and now it's gone from my mind, I just remember it happening because it's so rare.

And I've gotten a comment or two where a reader has disapproved of something in a fic, or where it's clear that they've interpreted something an entirely different way than I intended, and where they've chosen to express that in a not entirely nice way. I think when that's happened, I've left the comment, but haven't responded to it, because I just don't feel like going into discussions or spending my energy of that. But mostly all my readers are incredibly kind, which is a huge reason why I keep posting my work.

9. Do you write smut?

I have on occasion written a fic or two mostly focused on smut, upon request, and I incorporate sex-scenes into fics when I feel they serve a purpose.

10. Craziest crossover?

I've never written one, but I'm not opposed to them

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, a few!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope

14. All time favorite ship?

Well got to be Tommy/Alfie right? Just look at all my... stuff.

15. What’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have plenty of shorter unpublished wips where I've just wanted to 'try' an idea, or get something out of my head. Or be especially self indulgent. Those never get past the draft stage. But anything I truly want to finish and post, I usually do finish. Eventually.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I honestly think that one of my writing strengths is keeping at it, even when everything feels impossible, because without that stubbornness, many of my fics would've gotten finished. Cheesy as it may sound.

On a more technical note, I think -hope- that I'm good finding a good pace in my stories, at least my latest ones. And... describing emotions maybe.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

The first thing that comes to mind, and that often feel the most limited by, is that English is my second language. That always adds a layer of insecurity. And I'm not great at writing action, or scenes with many characters (I always feel like I'm trying to juggle with way too many balls)

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I think it can work great when it serves a purpose, but with my lacking language skills I just incorporate into the text that a character isn't speaking English, rather than typing the dialogue out in the actual language.

19. First fandom you wrote in?

My first ever fanfic I posted was for True Blood. Ten years ago now, which feels crazy.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Tough one... If I'm only allowed finished fics, I'd have to say Breathe Again, because it's my first truly long, multi-chaptered project and I grew a lot as a writer -I think- while writing that. But I do want to give Home to you it's own shoutout (even if I have yet to finish that last chapter that's haunting me because I'm so afraid to mess it up) because it's so intrinsically connected to Breathe again.

tagging (with no pressure of course, and apologies if you've already been tagged) @abusivelittlebunny @100dabbo @andtherewerefireworks @elskiee

[chronicallyhustling]

🔹 My Journey with Chronic Illness

“I never imagined that something as simple as getting out of bed, going to work, or even just existing could feel like a daily battle against my own body. But here I am, navigating life with a chronic illness, learning how to work, rest, and survive in a world that never seems to slow down.”

I was first diagnosed with Graves’ Disease after experiencing symptoms from an overactive thyroid. At the time, I was given two options to “fix” my condition: surgery to remove my thyroid or radioactive iodine treatment. I was young and, to be honest, I didn’t realize I should have researched my choices more. I also don’t know what other options were available back in 2008. I chose radioactive iodine treatment because it was the quickest solution and got me back to work faster.

A year later, I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety, along with my now underactive thyroid. That’s also when I started struggling with brain fog—something I didn’t even have a name for at the time. It’s a frustrating mental haze that makes it hard to focus, recall information, or even hold conversations. My husband would get frustrated with me because I couldn’t remember things that once came easily. If I didn’t write things down in a calendar, I’d completely forget important dates that I should have easily remembered.

At first, I thought treating my thyroid would be the end of my struggles. I knew I’d have to take medication for the rest of my life, but taking one pill daily seemed manageable. And it was… for a little while.

The Calm Before the Storm

A few years later, I started having allergy and asthma problems. I needed inhalers, and for years, I relied on over-the-counter allergy medications. Eventually, my body got used to them, and I had to switch to stronger prescription medsjust to function.

But it was about 10 years ago that things really started going downhill fast.

I’ve always struggled with my weight, but it suddenly became worse than ever. Carrying around extra weight isn’t just about appearance—it makes everything harder. Basic movements, energy levels, breathing—it all gets impacted in ways people don’t always realize.

Then came the exhaustion—the kind that no amount of sleep can fix. I’d spend entire weekends sleeping just to recover from the workweek. But instead of feeling rested, I just felt guilty—like I had wasted all my free time. There were so many things I wanted to do, but I just didn’t have the energy.

Then the random aches and pains started—ones I had never experienced before. My brain fog got worse, and at the time, I didn’t think that was even possible. I started waking up sore from sleeping in one position for too long. I developed Restless Leg Syndrome (RLS), followed by muscle twitches that happened all day and night. Then came the muscle cramps, the burning sensations, the pinprick pains—sometimes all over my body. The worst spots? My back and feet. Those are the ones that make me jump every time.

And now, the problems with my hands scare me the most. My hands are always sore and achy, but now my thumbs have started locking up on me. They’ll freeze in a flexed position, and when I try to stretch them out, sometimes I can, sometimes I can’t. When I do manage to move them, the pain is unbearable, and there’s an awful clicking noise—like bones grinding together.

Finally Getting a Diagnosis

After years of dealing with all of this—visiting different doctors and getting different answers—I was finally diagnosed with fibromyalgia.

In one way, the diagnosis made me feel better because I finally had an answer that made sense. But in another way, it terrified me because there isn’t much that can be done about it.

Coming to terms with my limitations has been one of the hardest parts of this journey. I just can’t do everything I used to. I don’t have the energy, and my body is in so much constant pain that I have to carefully choose what I can and can’t handle every day.

It’s frustrating because, in my mind, I want to do everything—but I’m stuck in a body that won’t let me.

Adjusting My Career to Protect My Health

Recently, I had to leave a job because the toxic work environment—combined with 10-hour days—was completely wrecking my health. When I started looking for a new job, I knew I couldn’t take anything that required me to work more than eight hours a day or stand for long periods.

That made the job search even more stressful. It was exhausting trying to find something I knew I’d be able to physically handle. But after a few months, I finally found a great job with a supportive work environment. The only problem? The pay was much lower than what I was used to.

So, I had to make another adjustment—finding a part-time job that I could balance with my full-time job.

(But that’s a story for another post.)

Why I Started This Blog

I have high hopes for this blog. Not only does it give me a place to share my struggles and wins, but I hope it also becomes a community—where others can share their stories, too.

It’s not easy navigating a world that runs at full speed when you’re stuck in a body that doesn’t even want to move.

💜 I hope this blog becomes a place where people can connect, support each other, and feel less alone.

💜 I want this to be a safe space—free from judgment, criticism, and negativity.

💜 Everyone is on their own journey, and we should lift each other up however we can.

You Are Not Alone

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading.

If you’re struggling with your own chronic illness, I want you to know:

✨ You are not alone.

✨ There are people who understand what you’re going through.

✨ They may not be your family or friends, but they are out there.

💬 Let’s start a conversation.

✨ What’s your biggest challenge living with chronic illness? ✨

Drop a comment below, and let’s talk. 💜

Originally Published on https://chronicallyhustling.com/

[missmaywemeetagain]

Grief is love untethered.

Today is my dad’s birthday. (Was my dad’s birthday? I’m never quite sure how to phrase that, because it’s his birthday regardless of if he is still here or not…)

He’s been gone a long time now. Sometimes it seems like just yesterday and sometimes it’s a million years ago.

Sometimes I forget until it’s right up on me that he isn’t here. I get busy and life happens and I forget these days that used to be so important. Then it’s the Father’s Day/birthday one-two punch and I’m sobbing and I don’t know why until I remember…oh, yes.

My dad loved Elvis. He’s the reason I started loving Elvis. There are so many questions I wish I could ask him about why he did that I didn’t have the foresight to ask when I was younger: How did he become a fan? Why? What were his favorites?

Sometimes I wonder if my dad saw himself in Elvis. I know I do, in the rebellious, mercurial, hot tempered, charismatic, not always taking care of himself sort of way. Perhaps that’s why I feel grief for Elvis too, even though I never had the privilege of knowing him in life. I’m not sure.

I’ve heard it said that grief happens because all that love we have for that person has nowhere to go after they are gone. But what if we channel it into something completely different?

Maybe that’s how art it born.

Maybe if not for my grief last year at this time, I wouldn’t have found this community. I wouldn’t have read fics and thought, hey what if I do that, even if it scares me? Maybe Pink Scarf wouldn’t exist without my grief.

I’m not sure how my dad would feel about me writing sexy fanfic about Elvis, but I’d like to think he’d be proud of me following my dreams of being a writer, to continue to grow and be something more than I was. And I’d like to think Elvis would get a kick out of it.

Perhaps that’s wishful thinking.

Either way, I think grief is love. Art is love. And sometimes grief is art.

Anyway, I hope you find art that touches you. I hope you experience love. I hope you treat yourself with kindness and compassion today. Maybe text a person you love. Listen to a song that makes you feel. Drink some water. Experience life, even if that means crying your eyes out for a little while because you have love that has nowhere to go.

And it may not be much, but know that I’m glad you’re out there. 💗

💗 Madi