#I can feel my mental health deteriorating every day!!!

[apocalypticdemon]

I am so beyond ready to quit this job. Wednesday cannot come fast enough.

[saturniidaez]

Tired but thinking too much to sleep. Ramble about nothing in particular below. Mind the trigger tags .

[mosspapi]

Comparison is the thief of joy but I also cannot escape it because I am not the one comparing myself. I feel like I will always see myself as short because my parents constantly talk about my 6'10 and 7'1 cousins. I will never feel thin enough because "well yeah but look at [sibling], they barely weigh anything!" I will always see myself as "not disabled enough" because my parents don't care about/see my disabilities in the same way as my younger sibling who is ~obviously way more disabled than me~. I won't ever see myself as a talented artist because whenever my parents see someone who is better, even if they're a trained professional who's been doing it longer than I've been alive, they just Have to show me. And it sucks because I want to find peace and joy and something about myself to love, but everything I do gets taken away from me.

[ana-bananya]

Help little Omar return to a life of peace and security

Vetted by 90-ghost

kr139,935 SEK/kr300,000 SEK

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Doaa ( @doaaomar123 ) is the mother of a 5 year old boy named Omar. Omar is autistic and nonverbal and has been severely traumatized by the bombings he and his mother lived through. He is in shock and struggling to cope with the horrors he's been forced to endure at such a young age. Every day he screams and cries from the memories of the sounds of bombs and gunfire that continue to haunt him.

Watching her son's mental health deteriorate has been unbearable for Doaa. She is trying to get Omar the help and resources he needs, but treatment is expensive. She needs support to afford therapy and enroll Omar in a school that can meet his educational needs.

Many of Doaa's family members remain in Gaza and she is trying to help them evacuate as well. This post contains more information about her family and their campaigns.

Doaa also has another campaign she is using to help evacuate her husband:

$5,513/$12,000

This campaign was initially created to help Doaa get the funds she'd need to restart her sewing business so she could provide for her and Omar. Thanks to everyone's generous support, she was able to secure the money she needs to purchase a new sewing machine and tools.

Now Doaa has devoted this campaign to raising the funds she'll need to evacuate her husband from Gaza to be with her and Omar. Omar is very attached to his father and his absence has caused Omar great distress on top of the trauma he is already struggling to cope with. Having his father by his side would help him feel more secure and lessen the stress Doaa is under.

You can help Doaa reunite her family and provide Omar with the treatment he needs by sharing and donating to her campaigns. Every dollar and every share brings them one step closer to rebuilding their lives.

[whore-ibly-hot]

God, I love your Yandere Boarding School HCs, Harrison is so cute with his domesticity, and I love Tyler for his slow Sweetness (I would be happy to lean on him during movie nights), and Joseph for just his vibe, I'll admit I like the admire from a distance type. 💞

Though Evan would make my mental health deteriorate so fast I would have to leave the Academy, I wouldn't be able to stand him and the way he does things even in the slightest 🤣

I have a question, How would Joseph feel if Reader had an interest in joining the newspaper, bringing their contact from every once in a while to almost- if not every day?

He would go absolutely feral, but would refuse to do photography juuuuuuuuuust yet. Mostly because he needs to remove some incriminating evidence; but he doesn't want to throw away the photos!

He's thrilled you share a passion similar to his, while he's not into journalism as much as photography, he's happy even if you are! He'll happily take photos for your article, or take you out if you're a photographer too. He'll invite you back into his room for food and to work on projects, but he'll make you wait outside because he knows remembers that shrine he's got to you. Once it's shoved under his bed, he's ready to let you in. Touch everything, let him arrange the way you hold the camera, let him take a photo shoot of you, anything, he'll be thrilled. Try to ignore the way he shakes as his hands trail your waist turning your hips and leaning you slightly so he can make sure you get the best shot.

"Good, just like that. Maybe a little to the left, mm..." He'd coo, trying to think of all the horrific things he can to prevent popping a stiffy right up against your ass.

He loves to see you focused, the way you're so passionate about what you do, just like him! Maybe he can get an internship with you somewhere, so you can keep pursuing your passions together.

Lastly, it'd gross and unsafe, but he wants to fuck you in the darkroom. No one goes there but him, he's really the only one who knows how to use it. He wants to have sex in a private, intimate place, and he's put some much work and passion into the black room that he wants to take you in his safe space. Where he can work with what he considers to be the most beautiful piece of art he's ever seen, you.

[1-800-kami]

agnes, just stop and think a minute

gojo satoru x reader (1.2k)

" you're gone but you're on my mind, i'm lost but i don't know why. ,,

warnings: CHAPTER 236 SPOILERS, reader and shoko r going THRU it, i wrote this during a mental breakdown, denial, semi-comfort at the end

a/n: when i found out about what happened i just spent 2 hours on social media just. watching everything gojo related and i kind of wanted to reflect my reaction through this word vomit of a drabble. i haven't cried at all but i just feel so devastated and oh my god it's been terrible. rest in peace to my bb </3

based off of one of my favorite glass animals songs (agnes) that i've always associated with gojo.

you like to think that grief in your life always comes and goes.

it’s a part of being a jujutsu sorcerer. each day, new people are trained to become one, and others die the same day. there are new beginnings, and people who meet their ends. you know sorcerers out there who have completely closed themselves off just so they don’t have to experience the soul crushing feeling of grief. 

it’s like a bud, they say. a bud that forcefully plants itself in your heart, and you can do nothing but watch it grow as it takes hold of every part of your being. people describe the feeling in many ways: a weight on top of your chest that won’t cease, or a part of your heart that’s been ripped away, and nothing in your life seems to fill the remnants of it. 

you’ve experienced grief in your life many times. loss is so normalized as a sorcerer that you’ve almost lost count at this point, but the ones that have hit you the hardest are the deaths of your closest friends: kento nanami, yu haibara, and geto suguru. they haunt your thoughts every day, up until the point where everything feels asphyxiating and you sometimes want to join your friends too.

you think that geto’s death hit you the hardest. 

you remember geto’s disappearance and the night parade of a hundred demons like it was yesterday. the hardest pill to swallow about his death was the fact that it could’ve been prevented. geto’s lifeless eyes made you see parallels from the weeks leading up to his disappearance. he just needed a push in the right direction, but then you couldn’t even do that and you didn’t see all the signs of his deteriorating mental health. you just felt so guilty, even though your friends assured you that it wasn’t your fault.

seeing geto’s body for the first time after 10 years made you wail uncontrollably–and you had to be forcefully pried off of him despite your screams of protest. the most prominent thing about his body were his lifeless eyes–and guilt coursed through your veins as you knew that they were probably devoid of life even before his death.

that guilt stuck with you for a long time, and you felt it until you thought that it would consume you whole.

that’s why shoko was hesitant to show you gojo’s body.

she knows that you would have an emotional outburst again, like last time. actually, she knew this one would be worse, because geto was a best friend to you, but satoru was the light of your life. he was your lover. your soulmate, even. the reason why you were excited to come home everyday. he grieved about geto with you, and you held each other when you both cried… usually when december 24th was nearing again. you think that, without satoru, you don’t know what you would do. you kept each other sane and grounded.

so you don’t understand.

why is his body in front of you right now? why are all your students crying around you and mourning gojo’s loss? it’s all the sorcerers are talking about right now, and you just don’t get it.

he’s the strongest, so why did he fucking leave you behind like this? no, no. he wasn’t supposed to lose that fight. he said it himself. he said he’d win, right? he’d win, and he’d come home, albeit injured, but home nonetheless. he’d celebrate his victory with you, and life would go on. so why did he lie?

that’s the only word coursing through your head. why?

you tried not to think about anything right now… like how there was probably so much crimson red on that battlefield. if you saw it, you’d think that the red would leave an everlasting stain in your mind, to the point where you’ll never forget about it. no matter how many times you’d wash your hands, all that red would still be there, and you hate to think about it.

you like to think that grief in your life always comes and goes.

people describe the feeling in many ways, but if you had to describe how you felt right now, the only word you’d use is empty.

you feel so utterly empty and hollow, that you can’t even bring yourself to cry or scream.

shoko’s surprised at your reaction. when she told you what happened, you became eerily silent. your eyes and gojo’s were practically identical. both so devoid of life, that all she can bring herself to say is, “im sorry.”

what do you even say at a time like this? what do you say to someone who’s had their heart ripped apart again and again as they watch each of their friends die? for you and shoko, it’s happened four times now. four is too much. you can’t bring yourself to believe it anymore.

no. this isn’t real.

this isn’t happening right now.

you move for the first time in what seems like ages, and you place your hand in gojo’s open casket, tucking a stray pearl white strand behind his ear. you observe him for a minute. he looks so peaceful, now that he doesn’t have to worry about his infinity or constantly being on his guard anymore.

“shoko, i think he’s hungry.” you say, feeling the ice cold veins in your chest stilling.

your words catch shoko off guard. “huh?”

“he’s hungry,” you repeat simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. you look away from his body and turn to leave. “i’m going to go buy kikufuku for him.” 

you suddenly remember all of the dates you’ve had with satoru, where you buy many sweets like kikufuku, but he always made sure to save you some. he’s known for his notorious sweet tooth—putting one too many sugar cubes in his drinks, but he’ll always share his sweets if it’s with you. even if it was kikufuku.

“it’s his favorite after all.”

you walk out of the funeral, leaving behind the confused and sympathetic looks of everyone there. shoko sighs at your reaction—she’ll let you go for now. everyone’s processing this in different ways, so she can’t blame you for how you’re dealing with satoru’s death. she’ll just hope you’ll learn to accept it soon.

on the way to get kikufuku, you spot a pet shop nearby. there’s a fish tank on display, and you notice that one of the tanks has a white betta fish inside. it’s the same shade as satoru’s hair, and you feel your feet moving on its own as you walk to the glass. you exhale with a shaky sob, placing a hand on it. i love you, satoru. i won’t say goodbye, though, cause i’ll be there eventually.

you make sure not to say “soon” because you knew that if you took your life with your own hands instead of letting fate choose your death, satoru would never let you hear the end of it. so you’ll keep living. you’ll keep living for yourself and satoru, even though you want to join them. every single day hurts and it also hurts to even breathe sometimes. though you know, somewhere out there, satoru and your friends are cheering you on with every step you take.

wait for me… okay?

the betta fish suddenly notices your presence, and swims up against the glass. so close, yet so far. you take that as satoru’s answer. it was like you could hear his voice directly speaking to you.

i’ll always wait for you, no matter how long it takes.

you smile for the first time today, even if it was barely a smile. you felt a familiar presence with you on the other side of that glass, even if it was just for a short moment, and it gave you what strength you had left to keep moving.

[lilac-5ky]

The Party (Satoru x Fem!Reader)

Plot: You decide to surprise your boyfriend on his birthday

Tags: Birthday fluff, Comedy, Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst, Shibuya incident?What Shibuya incident? (year is 2018), Established Relationship, Gojo Senpai, Satoru being the adorable menace everyone loves, SO. MANY. CHARACTERS. MAKING. APPEARANCES, feels like an actual jjk ep at this point, (fic deteriorates a bit over the latter part as my mental health does, writing until 6 am is exhausting, i know im late but spare me)

Word Count: Slightly under 9k.

A/N: Happy late Birthday, my love 💙💙💙

Masterlist | Requests | AO3

“Are we there yet?”

“Almost there—watch your step!” You warn, only to lose your footing a second later as you smash head first into your boyfriend’s back.

There is no way Satoru doesn’t know where the two of you are headed. Even with his technique supposedly turned off and your shaky hands concealing his curious eyes, all the things that make Jujutsu Tech into the place that raised generations of sorcerers (yours, included) continue to exist, bearing witness to his intentionally dumb guesses.

“Is it the beach? Are you taking me to see the ocean?” Satoru excites. “Aw, baby! You should have told me so; I would have brought my swimming trunks with! Although, I hafta say swimming in December is probably a bad idea, my nipples will freeze and fall right off. You wouldn’t want that, right?”

A sigh evades your lips, expelled as a little white cloud of frustration. On second thought, his mouth was what needed to be covered. Preferably stitched.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we aren’t going to the beach”—aw, shoot—“and your nipples get to live another day.” Your teeth chatter. Tiptoeing behind him with upstretched arms is already hard on its own. Doing so in the cold is purely exhausting.

You lose count of how many torii gates you cross, the joint click of your shoes switching to an uncoordinated thump as you go from traversing cobblestone paths to climbing an endless uphill of stairs, your stroll, again, feeling like part of a survival show. Curse Master Tengen. They might have only been responsible for the barriers, though in your scare, that doesn’t stop you from holding them accountable.

We are going to die.

Or more like you are going to die, considering Satoru’s already secured himself a life net in the form of your poor broken-to-be bones, and that’s the best case scenario you can hope for, the worst being having to repeat your ascension from the bottom step up.

“Then, are we visiting Himeji Castle?” Satoru continues, the frigid temperature not enough to crack his spirit. “Because I know the single best place for Tama Tsubaki. So fragrant, so elegant, so deliciously sweet! You haven’t been to Himeji before, have you? It’s also known for its excellent leather craftsmanship. Last time I went there, they had these insanely pretty wallets with—”

“N-no!” You yelp, voice as strained as if you’re walking on a tightrope. Shivering, “Wouldn’t you have noticed if I took you on a 4-hour road trip?”

“But time always moves so fast when I’m with you.” He coos in response, his tone serious when he asks, “Wanna take a break? Promise to keep my eyes closed till we reach the top. And after that too, if you want.”

Silky lashes map out the inside of your palms as they flutter against them, sweet little butterfly kisses that convince you to withdraw your hands. After all, you’d hate for his birthday to be stained with blood.

Not yours, at least.

“If you dare open them, I’ll kill you.”

“How scary!” Satoru captures your frozen hand and slips it in his coat’s pocket with far too great precision for someone with impaired vision. You don’t complain. Not even when he makes you bump into every single step on your way up, giggling to himself, until, as promised, you reach the summit and he lets go for you to assume your previous positions.

“I don’t”—pant—“miss”—pant—“walking this w-walk.” You muster in between labored breaths, palms on your knees as you crouch forward like an elderly lady with chronic back pain. “Wh-what are you smiling for?”

“Nooooooothing!” Satoru chirps, soft dimples carving hard into his milky complexion. “Just takes me back to the time when you still called me Gojo Senpai is all.”

Your youth comes playing in your head like an old cassette forced to rewind, bittersweet recollections sending you on a sudden trip down memory lane.

You met Satoru at the peak of spring and fell in love with him over the course of fall—a swirl of autumn leaves coloring the currently naked maple trees red. Muddy soles and uniforms soggy from the rain. Chasing after an umbrella you agreed to share and hopscotching across shallow puddles. Laughing louder than the pending storm.

But before that, bickering. So much bickering that continuously tested the patience of those around you, arguments over video games escorting you to morning assembly, and plans to catch new movie releases sealing your goodbyes.

The bitterness of Shoko’s cigarettes and the promise to never smoke again. Arcades and electronics in Akihabara. Karaoke and conveyor belt sushi in Shibuya. Getting a stranger to buy you your first beer and puking your guts outside a convenience store in Shinjuku. The promise to never drink again.

Moon-viewing festival. The unforgettable sight of him in a yukata, your heart multiplying itself into your eyes. Stolen glances and not-so-accidental nudges. Your first kiss tasting of melon soda, your second burning faster than the wick of his sparkler. Another kind of promise.

The giddiness of first love filters the film pink. Five-minute dates behind the old gym in flash forward. Late-night expeditions to each other’s dorms. Your loss of innocence overshadowed by the sudden loss of Haibara. Tears that threaten to spill out of the sequence. Suguru’s betrayal. The strength to move forward.

You’ve come a long way since the days you cheekily called him Gojo Senpai without a care in the world, and even though tragedy managed to forever sully them, standing here with him now makes it worth the pain. Given the chance, you’d do it all over again.

Rolling the cricks around your neck and shoulders, you walk up to Satoru, a tug at the lowest hanging tuft of hair signaling for him to meet your height. Knees bent. Eyes still closed. Lips still curled. Features so undeniably beautiful at 29 as they were at 17.

“Don’t move.” You mumble, smiling softly as you watch him pucker his lips in anticipation of a kiss. Instead, you fish out a pair of rectangular shades from inside your pocket and place them over the bridge of his nose.

“Let’s go before we get scolded for being late again.” Your hand steals his this time around, ushering him forward. A speckle of heat shooting from your fingers to your cheeks. “I trust you not to spoil your own surprise, Gojo Senpai.”

You are less than thirty steps away from your destination when, without a warning, the man behind you stops moving, forcing you to halt with him.

“What is it?” You ask, your body reeled closer to his from the bind of your fingers. “If you’re gonna ask whether I’m taking you to Laputa, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m still figuring out the coordinates.”

“That’s not it.” He huffs a chuckle against your knuckles, tenderly brushing them against his cheek. “But drop a pin when you do. Always wanted to take a nap in that fluffy flower bed. I’m sure it tastes fluffy too, just like whipped cream.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” You return, a yawn coaxed at the mention of napping. “So, what is it? Why did we stop?”

“I’m cold.”

“Well, so am I, but we really are close this time. If you just—”

“You should kiss me.” Satoru announces with solemnity better befitting a declaration of war. He realizes that himself, bringing his free hand to ruffle the hair on the back of his skull. Awkwardly. Ears tinged red. Cutely. “That would warm me up.”

“Is that your excuse?” You ask, chapped lips rubbing together. Your heartbeat felt in your throat. You shouldn’t be feeling like this. Not when you’ve known each other for the better part of your lives. It’s not normal. You don’t think you are.

“Nope.” He balances things out with a boyish smile that doesn’t make things any better for the lovesick teenage girl residing in your heart. She doesn’t know any better but to fawn over it. “My excuse is that we haven’t kissed here before. We’ve kissed there,” you follow his pointer, first to a bench made of stone and then to a blind spot behind some shrubs, “and there—many times there, heh, but not here. So we should kiss.” He reasons with a simplistic, nearly childish mindset. One you can’t quite argue against.

Until his spell breaks on you rather unceremoniously.

“I thought your eyes were closed!”

“Well, they were, but then I—hah, stop pullin’ like that—started missing your pretty face too much. Can’t deny me the simple joys in life, sweet cheeks.” He grins. “C’mon, just one kiss. Then we can meet with Yuji and the others. Promise I’ll act extra surprised!”

“Y-you knew?” Your eyes widen.

“I’ve known for about a week now? Heard you two talking on the phone, plus the kids asked to be put on cleaning duty when they usually leave everything to Megumi. Then a ton of chairs started to go missing, and—”

You barely bother listening to the rest, too caught up in your thoughts for Satoru’s detailed explanation of where it all went wrong to matter. Every year without exception—from your 16th birthday party-for-two in that tiny storage room you were accidentally locked in together to last year’s all-out murder mystery dinner party—he’s managed to sweep you off your feet, and yet you can’t throw him one party without it being spoiled.

You aren’t a planner. You know that. You know, but somehow you hoped this year would be different. That, twelve years after his insistence to spend his birthday in your company alone took root, (“Why would I want to spend this day with anyone other than you, angel? We have tons of fun together, don’t we? Just me and my special girl. Speaking of, any special requests for your birthday? I have some ideas myself, hehe~”) and one year after he stopped waiting for an apparition to show up and celebrate with him, he’d allow himself to bask in the appreciation of the living.

“Are you mad?”

The buzz of his voice quiets down, the paleness of a winter morning dawning beneath snowy lashes as he peers at you from above the rim of his sunglasses. Snowflakes of wonder stirring in his irises that contain them like two perfect snow globes, trapped in them, an ageless moment of the past.

“I’m relieved.” Satoru whispers, so faintly you almost miss it.

“Re…lieved?”

“You brought everyone here, right?” You nod. “Without blackmailing anyone?”

“Just Nanami.” You admit. “And Ijichi—Shoko promised to take him out for drinks if he came.”

“That’s good.” His lips pull into a smile warm enough to thaw your worries. “Honestly, I’m not the biggest fan of my own birthday.”

“I’ve noticed,” you interrupt. “You aren’t the only one perceptive here, Mister Six-Eyes.”

He gives you a funny look, creases forming over his brow as an imaginary zipper is drawn across the corners of his lips.

You unzip it. “Please continue, Great Gojo Senpai.”

His eyes light up. Satoru isn’t one for honorifics, yet hearing you address him as such makes the lovesick teenage boy in his heart shudder with excitement.

“You know what birthday I got the biggest haul for?” A shake of your head prompts him to continue. “Seventh.” Figures, you add. He nods. “Wanna know what they got me? A Hokusai painting. You know. One of those wavy ones.” Only he would ever refer to a Japanese classic that way. “But seven-year-old kids don’t care about dead people’s paintings or Shinto shrine visits. They want adventure, balloons, and luscious Gâteau au Chocolat. The new Street Fighter game, maybe.” His fingers snap together. “They want Laputa.”

You forget your hand is still in his until it’s given a light squeeze, Satoru nervously fiddling with your fingers while he mulls over what to say next.

“Bottom line is, birthdays with the clan suuuuuucked. And then, as I got older, I grew tall enough to outrun those stupid goons watching over me. So I’d run straight to Suguru’s house, drag him to the station, and from there, we’d go to that one pastry shop in Shinjuku and buy every cake on display. We’d eat till we both got sick—hah, you wouldn’t think his stomach was this sensitive with all those curses he gobbled up, right?—and then a few years later we met Shoko, and she’d put out her cigarette on my share.” He hisses like a distressed cat. “Then we met you”—another squeeze—“and those were the best birthdays of my life. Back when we were all together.”

“Satoru—”

“I didn’t think I could have that again.” He cuts you off. “But you said you got everyone together, and while some of us are no longer here, a lot are. This is good. You did well. I’m relieved, really. I’m happy.”

By the time Satoru finishes talking, you find yourself at a loss for words, blankly staring at his unaffected expression. It’s easy to forget how vulnerable he can be in those rare outbursts of sincerity; easy to forget that the one branded as the strongest is a person who cries and breaks too, and even easier to let yourself be deceived by that happy-go-lucky attitude. But as a smile begins to take shape upon your features, you can see where he’s coming from.

You are relieved.

“What are you smiling for?” Satoru asks in the same manner you did earlier.

“Nooooooothing!” You shamelessly steal his line. “Just thinking about the sorry look on your face when you realize there’s no chocolate cake.”

“You evil witch!” He proclaims, mouth hanging slack and forefinger pointing in accusation. “Next you’re gonna tell me you didn’t buy candles either!”

“Actually…”

You take hold of his finger before he can protest any further. Not that he wants to when both his hands are enveloped in the warmth of your smaller ones, childishly swinging by your sides. Back and forth. Up and down. Round and round. Arms overlapping as you both step closer, chuckling at a joke only your eyes seem to know.

“About that kiss.” You begin, laughing again at the small, exasperated mhm your boyfriend lets out, his Adam’s apple bobbing under the high neck of his sweater. “Are you still feeling cold?”

“So cold.” Satoru wiggles his shoulders as if he’s truly shivering. “Warm me up before the cold hand of death takes me away. Pleaseeeee.”

You aren’t one to deny him. Tiptoeing forward, you crane your neck so you can reach higher, while he bends his knees to shorten himself, meeting you halfway. Heavy breaths are shared as your noses brush together. The subtle notes of bergamot on his clothes blending with the wintry crisp in the atmosphere. Eagerness tugging at his bottom lip.

You might not be one to deny him, but you definitely are the type to tease him.

“Why don’t you do it? Why should I be the one to kiss you?”

“Wha—because I asked you!” Satoru quips.

“And?”

“And I have Senpai rights. Plus you didn’t pay boyfriend tax this morning, and come think of it, you didn’t wish me a Happy Birthday either!” He gasps like he only realized that just now. He builds his entire case around it. “Birthday Boy demands it. You have no choice but to give in or you’ll be cursed for your next seven birthdays!”

“But I thought you didn’t like your own birthday.”

“Baby!” Satoru finally breaks, his voice reduced to a high-pitched whine. “Even so, you can’t be mean to me on my own birthd—”

His lips are warmer than yours when you nullify the distance, conveying the softness and fruitiness of your stolen chapstick. A smirk is written on them, bitten away as you drag his hands closer to your body, foreheads bumping together and sunglasses nearly slipping from his nose. He giggles into your mouth, whispering how hot he finds it when you take the lead—moaning at the way your tongue presses against his, and disregarding the three sets of footsteps that enter the scene.

“Sensei!” A somewhat recognizable, albeit squeaky, voice calls out. “We’ve been waiting for you!”

“Way to ruin the surprise, Itadori!” Another, angrier, squeaky voice scolds.

“Idiot, you just said there was a surprise. And I told you both to go easy on the hellion.” The last of their group tries to deadpan, somehow sounding more ridiculous than his peers.

“Pft—F-Fushiguro!” Nobara and Yuji laugh in sync, too preoccupied with poking fun at their classmate to notice your form erasing itself from existence behind Satoru’s back as he turns around to face them.

“Yuji! Nobara! Megumiiiii!” His tone is colored with a falsetto when he addresses his favorite (target) student, prompting the duo to keep harassing him with countless pokes at his confetti-laced spikes.

Your plan to use poor Megumi’s torture as a decoy to flee the premises goes to waste as your hand is held out in the open, with Satoru showing you off to them like the big prize at the end of a wrestling match.

“Oh, future Mrs. Gojo Sensei!” Yuji is the first to acknowledge your presence; the effects of the gas are all but worn off as he timidly waves at you. “I didn’t know you were here! What brings you to school today?”

“That’s quite the title, Yuji. Told you to just—ugh!—call me by my first name.” You struggle to pull your wrist out of Satoru’s grasp. You lose. “Also, no need to keep playing charades. He knows.”

“You told him? Then what was all of this for?” Nobara comes forth, a pink balloon dramatically deflating in her hands.

“Actually, I figured it out myself! Aren’t you proud to have such a smart teach—”

“No!” Two out of three shout in unison. You almost do so yourself.

After their back and forth escalates into a full-blown debate on who’s more intelligent, Satoru or Megumi’s shikigami (the results to be announced on a future episode of Are You Smarter than a Toad?) and happy birthdays are wished, Yuji asks the one question you feared answering the most.

“Sensei? Miss Y/N? What were you doing out there in the cold?”

Their own curiosity beats Megumi and Nobara to the classroom as they stall their entrance, with Satoru being the first to hit the buzzer.

“You see, Yuji, when a man and a woman love each other very much, they—ahahouch! Love really does hurt! It hurts so badly!” He yelps as you stomp on his foot hard enough to cripple an average man.

“Don’t you dare use me as a test subject for the talk, Satoru!”

“What talk, darlin’?” He smiles coyly, not losing the chance to brag. “Oh, you mean the talk about how you fell victim to my charms and couldn’t wait till we were alone to kiss me? Guess I still got it, despite the extra candle on the cake.”

“Aww!”

“Eww!”

“Gross!”

The reactions vary.

“You’ll get another candle lit up in your memory if you keep spewing shit like this!” Your attempt to step on his shoe is countered by his technique.

“Hey, no cursing in front of my precious students!” Satoru chides. “We’re supposed to set an example for them, not taint their innocent souls!”

“Satoru!” With a tremendous roar, the door flies open, startling the three students to jump behind their teacher and you to follow suit.

Principle Yaga stands by the frame, his authoritative tone coursing through your body as it recalls every punishment he ever subjected you to. The soreness in your calves from running laps around school for being late. The dryness in your eyes after surviving one of his excruciating educational VHS tape sessions for being “cheeky” and the ache in your fingers from scrubbing the gym floors squeaky clean—courtesy of being caught sneaking back into the dorm with tousled hair in the dead of night.

You almost feel sorry for Satoru acting as the wavebreaker for the incoming tsunami, but then you remember how the majority of your crimes were incidentally committed in his name and wish him good luck. He deserves whatever earful he gets, possibly something along the lines of “Sixteen minutes late? Are you trying to break a world record?”

“You think Gojo Sensei will die?” Yuji whispers. “He’s at that age when a lot of celebrities die, right?”

“He’d better not! I didn’t bring any funeral wear with me.” Nobara answers back.

“Can’t you read the room?” Megumi rasps. “Plus, that’s the 27 Club you’re talking about. Gojo Sensei has outlived that.”

“Didn’t take you for a clubgoer, Fushiguro.” The two of them snicker, prompting Megumi to sigh as he again points out their idiocy.

“Principal Yaga!” Satoru bravely puts himself forward, your line of defense falling apart like a house of cards you’re made to support on your own. “Are you here to wish me a happy birthday? How thoughtful! Guess it’s true what they say: People mellow down with age.”

“Sixteen minutes late—”

The man’s mouth twitches furiously as an invisible countdown starts in all your heads, none of you expecting the situation to simmer down before it boils over.

“But I’ll let it slide this once. Happy birthday, Satoru. I’ve stopped hoping that the years bring you wisdom and fix your bad habits. It’s pointless; every year you turn more impudent than the year before,”—is that supposed to be a birthday wish or you getting kicks from throwing shade at me?—“but I wish they bring you happiness. I made this with you in mind. Hope it’s to your liking.”

You watch as Principal Yaga reveals a felt doll from behind his back, handing it to a repulsed Satoru, who makes no effort to conceal his personal feelings, let alone express gratitude.

“Huh? What’s that supposed to be?” He asks, shaking the doll so quickly you only catch a glimpse of its fluffy white tail and stitched black sunglasses—a cat?

“It’s you.” Its maker replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And he has a name. Satoru, say hello to Catoru.”

Four of you share a look among yourselves, too stunned to say a thing until Satoru and his doll counterpart face you, the latter being held up by the scruff of his neck. Just like an actual cat.

“Do I look like this?” Satoru asks, and you all go quiet, with three hands simultaneously nudging you to represent them. Traitors!

“I mean, there are times when you do act like a cat—kinda?” Your voice is pinched up, hands moving frantically to dispute your words as your boyfriend’s face turns sourer than umeboshi. “But you look ten times—no, a hundred times more handsome! I promise! If anything, you resemble a—uh, Turkish Angora? Those are super beautiful!”

“You’d better get along.” Yaga warns. “I designed Catoru with a sweet tooth like you.”

“I don’t want a little mochi thief in my house!”

Yaga marches back into class without waiting to hear Satoru’s concerns about the impending depletion of his secret mochi stash. The kids tail after him, leaving you to comfort Satoru with a gentle pat on his back. “Let’s go inside, mm?”

The atmosphere inside the classroom is significantly more promising than what Yuji showed you on FaceTime this morning. All desks are pulled to the side in a rough T formation, with the spread of food you spent two nights making carefully put in order, from platters full of golden-crusted corn dogs and crispy chicken fingers to dainty cupcakes decorated with Konpeito candy and colorful mochi of every filling you could think of. Inumaki serves bar, and you’re pleased to see people returning for seconds, with Yuji waving his hands while praising your popping candy cake poppers to his taciturn upperclassman.

Balloons hang near the ceiling—a flag garland dangling from one end of the blackboard to the other. A gigantic birthday message spans across the surface, with smaller wishes sprinkled in abundance, some consisting of mere congratulations and others expressed with heartfelt emotion. You can easily guess who wrote what based on handwriting alone; Megumi’s by far the tidiest.

You knew leaving the decorations to Nobara was a smart choice. She knows it too. She doesn’t waste the chance to boast to Maki about it, the older girl twirling a bouquet made of lollipops between her fingers while gazing at the drifting clouds outside the window.

Satoru was right. This is good. You have every reason to be proud, too.

In the far back of the room, the adults have struck up a conversation with Panda, who snaps a picture of your entrance. The two party poopers—Ijichi and Nanami—look up from their quiet exchange.

“Satoru! You came!” Principal Yaga’s pride and joy steps forward with open arms, a party hat pulled taut between his round ears. “Congratulations on your birthday,” says Panda, planting two identical party hats on your heads. “Let me take a picture of the two of you. Couldn’t get an angle from back there.”

Your shoulders get squeezed as Satoru smooshes your faces together, the pointy tip of his hat nearly taking your eye out when he tries to steal a kiss from your cheek. You squint—and snap!

“Hey, can you take another? I think I wasn’t looking straight.”

“No do-overs!” Satoru interferes before Panda can even open his mouth. “Don’t worry! Getting a bad picture of you is impossible when you look perfect at any given time. Right, Panda?”

His former student glances down at the camera, letting out the exact same sound your computer makes when a Windows program crashes, and then rushing to mask it with a hearty chortle.

“Of course, Satoru! You got very lucky; Y/N is as beautiful as she is kind-hearted.” He shows you a grin that’s mostly teeth. “You know, she worked really hard for this party. We barely did anything ourselves.”

Not true; you all did your part…

Your eye is endangered once more, with his lips finding their target this time around. “That’s my vanilla caramel drizzle cupcake muffin baumkuchen pie to ya!”

That’s half your macchiato and half your bakery order, you argue silently.

“Shame Yuta couldn’t make it.” Panda continues. “Heard he’s down with a cold, though he did send you his gift via Maki.” A fuzzy thumb points at the closet-turned-gift-depository, where various bags and packages are stacked into a pyramid. “Anyway. I’ll let the two of you mingle. Come over if ya want more pictures of you taken. Got lots of props too.”

Your eyes follow as he returns to his post, spotting Shoko experimenting with a pair of groucho glasses. Nanami shakes his head disapprovingly, leaning back into his chair while Ijichi’s stutter is visible from where you and Satoru stand.

You glance up at him, a default smile plastered on his lips. Unreadable to others, but painfully obvious to you. The face he’s searching for is not among those present.

“Everyone seems to be having fun.” Satoru points out.

“Y-yeah.” You croak.

“Can’t believe you got everything down. Class looks like it did back then. Even the wobbly pom-pom on the party hats.” He squeezes the one on your head. “That caught me off guard.”

“Well, it would’ve been a greater surprise if you didn’t eavesdrop on my private phone calls.”

“That ain’t on me, sweets.” He whisks your hand into his and drags you onward. “Not my fault I was born with heightened senses. Better get used to it; our kids will probably take after me in that aspect.”

You shrug his comment off, watching as Satoru stows the cat away in the closet and dramatically dusts his hands off. “Another great addition to the world’s creepiest collection.” He grumbles.

“But Catoru is the cutest so far!” You object.

He is about to answer when a sound akin to that of someone choking has you both turning toward the makeshift buffet where Ijichi is downing water straight from the jug, his sunken cheeks a scarlet shade of red.

“Shit! He must’ve discovered the jalapeno poppers.” You bite your lips into a straight line, feeling somewhat responsible.

“Nice job!”

“It wasn’t my intention!”

Your plea of innocence doesn’t resonate with Satoru, who gives you a thumbs up before forming a cone around his mouth and shouting at Ijichi—chuckling at the hurried way the man searches for an escape between chairs and people.

“Ijichi! Oi, Ijichi! I-ji-chi! Over here! Come wish me a happy birthday!” He waves his arms around like Tom Hanks in Cast Away, declaring—unlike Tom Hanks—that he’s coming to him instead.

“Don’t go around terrorizing people, ‘Toru.” Your voice has him stopping his march to peck your lips.

“Promise I’ll be a good boy. You’re free to punish me if I’m not.” He smirks, finger-gunning you all the while stepping backwards in slow motion.

“You never are!”

“Hmm, that’s only because I’m the best. And you’d better prepare a handsome reward for when we get home, ‘cause the best always wins.” A flirtatious wink makes you question how many people listened in on your exchange, praying that the answer is none.

You take advantage of Satoru’s absence to pay a visit to your old friends, mentally counting the days since the last time you all gathered up. It’s been way too long—the beer you’d promised to catch up over turned into a distant fantasy.

“Gonna get yourself nauseous if you keep staring at that whirlpool, Shoko Senpai.” You plop down on the closest vacant chair, the bored brunette humming without lifting her eyes from the lemonade swirling inside her cup.

“If you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss will also gaze into you.” She states, managing to sound both mesmerized and disinterested at the same time.

“And? Seen anything yet?” You lean closer.

She retires with a sigh, dark circles looming below her hazelnut eyes. “Nothing yet.”

“How about now?”

Pulling your trump card—aka one of those miniature vodka bottles you specifically brought with her in mind—from your pocket, you pour a generous amount into her drink, reminiscing about the time she accidentally spiked Satoru’s soda and had him swimming on the floor.

It takes one sip for Shoko to liven up, a sudden jolt of energy coursing through her veins as she reaches out for the bottle.

“You’re a lifesaver, you know that?”

You chuckle. “Big praise coming from someone who actually saves lives.”

“Big words coming from people who openly drink in front of underage students.” The man to your left observes, absentmindedly picking at the tentacles of the octopus sausage on his plate.

“Kento! You made it!” You tip from one side of your chair to the other, arms dangling empty as he dodges your hug. “Having fun?”

“Please stop acting like him. I know the years in his company have caused your twisted personalities to merge, but the world is already wretched enough with one Gojo Satoru around.” He munches on the “good part” of the dissected octopus, discarding the tentacles inside a carefully folded napkin.

“But to answer your question, whether I’d rather spend my Friday afternoon explaining to everyone I know that the man in the picture dancing inappropriately with half-naked models in Ibiza isn’t me but a look-alike or sitting here, chaperoning a bunch of kids and making sure no one kills themselves, then yes. It’s not as horrible as I expected. And you’re as good of a cook as I remembered.” He wipes his mouth. “But I’m still clocking out at 7 sharp.”

“Come on! I did what I had to do to get you here!” You giggle, experiencing a little of the same rush Satoru feels when he’s poking fun at Ijichi. Oh no. “I am glad you’re enjoying the food, at least!”

A sound viler than any curse’s wail pierces through your ears as a TV cart is dragged into the room. You recognize it as Yaga’s old torture device—those five-hour black and white tapes gleaming menacingly on the lower shelves, with an unknown machine piled atop the cassette player. You aren’t sure what its purpose is until Yuji connects a microphone to it.

“Everyone—ah, ah, ah! Can you hear me?” The boy dabs a palm against the microphone, sounding loud and clear across the room. “Fushiguro, can you hear me? Fushiguro—ah, ah, ah!” The last of his ah’s interrupted by Megumi’s calling him out in front of their live audience.

“Everyone, thank you for coming to Gojo Sensei’s birthday party! I’m Itadori Yuji, and I’m happy to have co-hosted this event with Miss Y/N.”

A couple of heads turn in your direction, Satoru’s among them. It’s easy to make out his silhouette when he dwarfs everyone around him—Principle Yaga on his side and an antsy Ijichi lurking behind them.

“I enrolled in this school a little over a semester ago by accident.” Yuji continues undeterred. “Back then, I didn’t know any more about curses than the next person. Not that I do now.” He scratches through his hair. “Honestly, it was a lot to stomach, especially the part where I get to share my body with another. I was told I’d be better off dead, and I did die once. I was supposed to be dead, but then Gojo sensei gave me a choice, and I’m here because of that choice. More than a helping hand, he’s been a guiding light to me, and on behalf of all of us, thank you, and Happy Birthday!”He bows. “I hope you have a good one!”

Yuji holds out the microphone for Satoru, the two of them sharing a high five with an affectionate pat seeing the boy off.

“Thank you, Yuji, for this wonderful speech!” Satoru grins, evidently moved by his student’s words. “Everyoooooooooooone! Give it up for the man of the hour, the one and only, the most incredibly handsome and magnificently strong sorcerer known as Gooooooooooojo Saaaaatoruuuu!” His body twists in a pirouette, peace signs and heart signs flying everywhere as he lands with a finger pointing at where the imaginary camera would be.

Unsurprisingly, no one is impressed. Cricket sounds almost audible.

“Wow, okay. Tough crowd, I guess.” His lips comically jerk to one side of his face, his tone turning nasal before switching back. “I won’t bore you with individual thanks and other useless formality crap.”

He smirks at the way your mouth rounds a silent gasp. Nanami notices too, posing a question you shrug off.

“To cut it short: first-years! You’ve all proved yourselves as worthy sorcerers and worthier humans. As a reward, I’m proud to announce your reward in the form of a—c’mon guys, drum your desks a little!—luxurious, one of a kind, ten outta ten, uniquely planned field trip by moi!”

“Is it Paris? Are you taking us to Paris?” Nobara dreams out loud.

“Sensei! How about Universal Studio? I saw them post their newest churrito flavor on their webpage.”

“Can I sit this one out?” A gloomy murmur begs.

“Great thinking, Yuji! Unfortunately, Nobara, we won’t be going overseas this time, but, Megumi, you’ll definitely want to reconsider once you hear our destination, which iiiiiis—excitement is free, everyone!—Parque Espana!” Satoru claps for his suggestion.

Three dejected faces say pass in unison, with only Megumi daring to complain about Satoru taking him and Tsumiki to the theme park every second Sunday when the two were younger. You remember that. Some times you’d tag along, and you’d all grab ice cream while staring at that humongous roller coaster the kids were too short to ride.

Undefeated, Satoru directs his attention to the second-year students, the three of them loitering by the chip bowl. His tone turning grave, “Second years, I’m honestly very disappointed in all of you. In our two years of knowing each other, you never thought to throw your favorite teacher a party for his birthday. You’re lucky I don’t have the authority to drop you a grade, but still. You fail!”

“Fish Flakes!” Inumaki expresses his supposed disagreement.

“Huh? You never even told us when your birthday was because you didn’t want us knowing your real age, you blindfolded idiot!”

“Maki, not now!” Panda anxiously gets in her way. “Cool it!”

“You should have figured it out yourselves.” Satoru toots. “Moving forward! I’d like to give my special thanks to the moon of my life, my sun, and my stars.”—you knew watching Game of Thrones with him was a very bad idea—“Y/N! Come here, sweetie. Don’t be shy; everyone knows how much we love each other.

It almost feels like you have the limelight shining on you, with every person eagerly awaiting your response. You gulp hard, whispering so that only Nanami can hear. “You were right. Please save me.”

“What is it, Buttercup? You already have my heart, but if there’s anything you’d like for me to do, then now is the moment to say it.” Satoru smiles sweetly, his voice dripping with honey.

“Actually, there is. Can you put me down?” You kick your legs around while he hoists you up in bridal style, your unjust abduction having occurred in the blink of an eye.

“Anything and everything for you!” He kisses the top of your head, holding you close to him even after letting your feet touch the ground. “Alright, that’d be all! I hope everyone gets to have the time of their lives. Now, let’s get this party started!” He throws the microphone up in the air.

Nothing happens.

“I said, let’s get this party star—whatever.” Satoru gives up half-way through raising his arm again. “Yuji, play something fun!”

“On it!” Yuji salutes him, and the two of you walk away from the blackboard.

A faint sigh echoes behind you, its relief cut short as Satoru grabs the microphone once more. “Ah, right. Ijichi, I’ll see you in my office on Monday. I’d wear a headband if I were you.”

“I’ve c-committed a mortal sin, G-Gojo!” Ijichi struggles to say, uncertain of the crime he’s being accused of, yet hopeful for Satoru’s forgiveness.

“You are such a menace!” You throw a playful punch to his chest once he sits you on his lap, away from the eyes of people gathering around the karaoke machine, and close to Nanami, who departs with a disgusted scoff.

“You love me for it.” Satoru’s lips press softly against yours, incapable of hiding his smile when you pull his face in for another kiss, the tight squish of his arms making sure you’re going nowhere.

“I do.” You affirm, rubbing your nose on his. “I love you.”

“How much?” His eyes crinkle fondly.

“Hmm, like, a lot?” You giggle, your fingers absently brushing through the trimmed hair on the back of his skull. “Enough to spend half a lifetime by your side and still find you the most incredible person in all of creation.”

“Wanna spend the other half too?” His breath on your cheek colors your skin red, your eyes momentarily lost between shades of blue.

“Come back with a ring, Shit-toru.”

“That’s not the way you talk to your future husband!”

“He’s here? With us? Right now?” You gasp, frantically looking around, until Satoru forces you to face him with a thumb on your chin, his other hand squeezing an innocent touch around your thigh.

“Satoru!”

“Scared your future husband will see us?” He throws his head back, laughing at your panicked state. “Don’t worry. I’ll fight him for you. And win. After all, I am the strongest.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, he did it! He said the line with only—”you glance at your phone—“six hours left before the day ends, what an amazing record!”

A shrill screech fired from the other side of the room interrupts your banter, the microphone turning into a lethal weapon in Panda’s massive palms. The students appear to have divided themselves into couples, fighting over who gets to go first until Inumaki takes the initiative with a rap song—or, more accurately, sings over a rap song, as the only words in his roster revolve around onigiri ingredients that are mentioned nowhere in the lyrics.

“Stop hogging the mic!” Maki attempts to steal it, backing away as the boy teases to unzip his collar. She knows better than to push her limits while unarmed.

Panda still gets in the middle. For precaution, you assume.

“Reminds you of something?” Satoru comments on your riveted attention. “They’re just like us. How we once were. Young and full of dreams.”

“Nah. You were always a horny bastard.” You slap the inappropriately placed hand away before you get up and sit where Nanami was previously stationed. Poking your tongue at his devastated expression.

Conversation between the two of you is kept to a minimum after a different tune begins blasting from the speakers—Yuji and Megumi take over the stage with Takada-Chan’s most recent success, one of them performing the vocals to perfection while the other merely mumbles yeah’s whenever the song calls for it. Next are Nobara and Maki, the two girls belting out to an anthem of empowerment that has the boys in the room gulping uncomfortably among themselves.

The mood shifts completely when Yaga pours his soul into an 80’s power ballad, his raspy voice transforming into the smoothest velvet, complemented by Panda’s harmonies. Even Satoru praises his old teacher, cheering him on from the bleachers with a makeshift napkin-banner.

You don’t realize your boyfriend’s gone until you see him with the microphone in hand, bending the cable as he makes quick gestures for the floor to empty, performing what is possibly the cheesiest, most romantic love song ever written, and ushering you to join him once he drops to his knees—quite literally at your feet.

You ruffle his hair and shove his goofy expression away. No matter how charming his singing voice may be, he’ll never get you to sing in public. Similar to how he’ll never catch you admitting how loudly your heart beats in your chest, despite the fact that it’s written all over your face.

God, you hate this man. So much that part of you wishes you’d spent his birthday like you did every other year—tangled in his sheets and kissing till you cannot breathe.

As soon as the karaoke session ends, Megumi and Yuji exit the room to bring in the cake, with Satoru jumping them for a thorough inspection. The dessert is inspired by one of his favorite confections. Handmade mochi bites are spread evenly between three layers of fluffy strawberry cake, the entire enterprise covered in fine red bean paste and topped with vanilla buttercream, strawberry cutouts, and, of course, more mochi in a light pink shade to recreate the world’s largest daifuku.

You lost count of how many failed attempts it took to create your own recipe from scratch, but the look on Satoru’s face is better than any payment you could possibly ask. He struggles to find a word that describes his feelings—phenomenal being the one he ends up using. Definitely better than chocolate cake. Perhaps even on par with the legendary Laputa.

Everyone gathers anew for the birthday boy to blow out his candles, awkwardness sweeping through the crowd as, one by one, you come to the conclusion that there is no available lighter.

you search through your pockets for a lighter, finding none. Shoko’s unhealthy (and supposedly cut) habit comes in clutch, with the brunette handing Yuji the keys to her office. The boy sprints outside at full speed, idle chatter put on pause as the TV starts playing on its own, the song selection window traded for a relic of the past.

“Is this even working?” A young Shoko taps the camera, tilting her body at a curious angle. Short skirt rolling up.

“Probably not. That shit’s ancient, but feel free to test it! Maybe try showing it something funnier, like your pant—”

Horny bastard. Right on the money.

“Cut it off, Satoru.” A voice makes both you and present-day Satoru shudder, its owner taking the camera from their friend’s hand to shoot footage around the gym. “Yaga Sensei told us to use this to document the Goodwill Event, not film amateur gravure.” The frame shakes once more. “Looks good to me.”

“Pft, what’s the point?” Satoru flicks a pebble at the camera. “So he can make a quick buck out of me destroying those brats? The outcome’s already decided. Now turn this thing off. I wanna lay under the sun without some junk in my face.”

The camera zooms in on him splaying his limbs on the grass, possibly near the track field, based on the slight hint of red inside the green.

“The only junk in your face is your face itself.” Shoko deadpans, making him chase after her while Suguru continues filming them until they turn into a pair of flickering dots.

“These two.”

The world is turned upside down as a close-up of his bang takes over the screen. Realizing that himself, he pulls the camera further away, cat-like irises shining like pure amber under the sunny sky. You’ve missed their warmth.

“Preparation for the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event, Day 1.” He declares, and the screen goes black in an instant, white noise reigning over the space.

Your hand seeks Satoru’s on its own, the faint sound of his name dangling from your parted lips, both your breaths catching in your throats. He’s left gawking at the screen, reciprocating your touch with shaky fingers that try to anchor him to you. It’s safe to say this was not part of your plan.

“Weird. Thought it’d be one of those old workout tapes.” Nobara reveals herself as the culprit behind the incident, ejecting the tape back into its box and later standing with her hands pinned to her waist. “Gojo Sensei, I recognize you and Ieri, but who was that third person in the video? Bangs Guy.”

Out of everyone in the room, she’s the only one to have absolutely no information on Suguru. Aside from the adults, the second-years were all present during last year’s attack, and Megumi knows whatever has slipped from Satoru during his stay at the Gojo clan’s compound.

Nobody rushes to respond; all of you tuned in on Satoru even though only Shoko, Yaga, and you are directly gazing at him, his face contorted with a pained grimace he tries hard to disguise.

“Geto Suguru was—”

“My best friend.” Satoru grins at Principal Yaga’s attempt to help him, grasping your hand more confidently as he confronts the girl. “Geto Suguru is my best friend.”

“Huh. Guess there’s hope for everyone.” No one’s left with any courage to laugh at Nobara’s poor attempt at a joke. “Where is he now—”

“Senseiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” A voice gains volume as the door bursts open, Yuji pouring into the classroom with the lighter held over his head like it’s the Olympic flame. “I g-got th-the—” He tries to breathe, ending up only saying, “Fire. Wish. What. Miss?”

“Yuji!” Satoru makes you follow him to the door. “You’re right on time! And no, you didn’t miss anything. Just stories of the past.”

“Stories?” Yuji wipes the sweat off his forehead. Still very much exasperated. “But I…like stories.”

“I know you do.” Satoru’s eyes settle on yours, the clamor in his eyes hushing for the first time in years. “But birthday wishes are meant for a future that’s yet to be written.”

“Thank you!”

Appreciation falls from your lips as a long-drawn yawn, every second you spend huddled under the kotatsu’s warmth begging to lull you to sleep. Today was a long day. So long, it feels as if it spanned an entire lifetime.

Satoru plops down beside you, the neckline of his sweatshirt diving low over his collarbones as he chugs his share of hot cocoa. Yours remains untouched while you switch between the same two movie options, incapable of picking one over the other.

“What do you have for me?” He asks, running his fingers over the ceramic rim. A melodic string instrument-like sound is induced.

“Okay so. Got the cult classic Sixteen Candles, which we’ve probably watched more times than Molly Ringwald had to practice her lines for the role, and I also have La Boum, in case you’re feeling more adventurous, and I don’t know. Frenchy, maybe.”

“Hmm, I mean. When you phrase it like that…”He acts as if he’s seriously contemplating his choice, only to snatch the remote from your hand and choose La Boum. He smiles slyly, curling near your chest. “It’s what you obviously wanted to watch. And I always choose, so.”

“Forfeiting your birthday boy rights?” You hum, tenderly combing through his freshly washed white strands. He smells just like his cake, you think. “Be careful. There are still nine minutes left before your birthday’s over, and you’re robbed of your rights for an entire year. Think you can make it?”

“Will you be with me during those horrid days?” His voice turns muffled.

“Always. Now, before the movie starts and you ruin the fun with your excessive blabbing, how about you reach under the kotatsu for your gift?” You suggest, chuckling as his head lifts up, cerulean eyes shining with unfeigned surprise.

“Angel! You shouldn’t have!” Satoru beams whole as he drags the heavy box out, shaking it in an attempt to feel out its contents.

“You know that doesn’t work with me. C’mon. I’ll pause for you.”

He wastes no time to untie the light silver bow that ties the box together, taking, however, his sweet time to review each and every object placed within. Carefully, he lays everything out on the table, small gasps evading him at a constant and maturing into a full-on shriek as he spots that one rare Digimon trading card you bust your gut trying to purchase via private online auctions.

“I—um. I know it doesn’t sound too good ‘cause I’m your girlfriend and I’m supposed to know everything about you and what you want, but I really had no idea what to get for your birthday. So I decided to get you a bit of everything from your favorite things. You can blame me for weaponizing nostalgia later.”

You clear your throat with a quick sip of cocoa. Licking your lips, “Anyway. It’s really no biggie as you can see. I just bought off some trading cards, ported a few of your old favorite games to a current generation console—yes, Street Fighter included—and made you this silly beaded charm with our initials for your phone, since they are back in fashion.

“I know it’s not much, and you could buy those things at any given time, but—time is something you cannot buy, right? Your childhood, your youth. The so-called best years of your life. I wanted you to have that back, even if just for a day.”

It’s been minutes, and Satoru remains quizzically silent, to the point where the array of kisses aimed at your neck comes as a true ambush. You’re knocked to the floor, giggling and flailing while he shows you his affection in every way possible, kissing you, praising you, hugging you—loving you.

“H-Happy Birthday, Toru.” You repel his face enough to say. “Y-you know, a thank you would be nice to hear!”

“As if you don’t know what I’m about to say.” Satoru grins, holding your palms to his mouth. Kissing them one by one, repeatedly, and slowly. Multiple times each. “You are my childhood. And my youth. And the best years of my life—they are all you. Everything we’ve been through, and everything we’ll live together.”

“How’s that for a thank you?” He chuckles, quickly breaking the tension with a final kiss on your nose. Perhaps the only part of you that’s not tinged red. “That being said…”

“You want to go for a quickie?” You sniffle against your will.

“See? You do know everything about me.” He reaches for the deck of cards with the swirly brown backside. “It’s time to duel!”

A/N: sorry for hastily written ending. had no time, oopsie!

[zombielesbean]

the release of Grey Area was interesting because... well, lemme just lay it out for ya:

literally the morning the game released, my grandma died it wasn't unexpected at all, so it didn't hit me particularly hard, and I am not a person who feels much when anyone dies anyway, but, I was always really close with my grandma, and she always loved and was supportive of my gamedev stuff, so like. you can imagine, that's not the most stable mental platform to be releasing the biggest game project you've ever released on, heh

later the first day of release, our first review rolls in - negative

oof

more reviews are coming in and most are positive, but each negative one - and there were a few - like a knife stabbing me. that's three years of my life out there now! I wasn't prepared for how incredibly vulnerable that would feel - each of my previous game projects had only taken a year or less

on top of this, the bug reports are coming in.. we'd tested this game to hell and back, both ourselves and with outside game testers.. but again. biggest project I've ever made. more stuff got through than I was prepared for

mental health is deteriorating, I'm staying up all night continuing to fix bugs and make small changes to the game

a fairly large streamer plays the game - doesn't like the bosses that much, especially the latter two, admits he was going to send gift copies to random viewers but has now decided he "doesn't want to inflict the game on other people" and doesn't believe the game had playtesters

internal screaming increasing

I'm still working every day and night on this thing, we're getting much more positive feedback than negative but like oh my god is it rough I don't know what to do with all this attention and then we have someone show up in the discord server to essentially debate me about all the choices I made making the game and it gets to where it's just like please leave me alone I'm sorry you didn't like it but other people do and I made it the way I personally wanted because its my project and aaaaaaaaa I'm dying out here

and with all this stress building the thing that did me in was our biggest fan, as in, the most prominent person who was interested in our game, and who had made several useful suggestions about the game I had happily implemented - well, let's just say I fucked up in communication with them and woosh - all that good will out the door

extremely negative review, they don't even talk about the game, they just talk about the miscommunication they had with me

I felt like I was a sitcom character working in a restaurant and I'd tried to please the food critic coming to town and tripped and spilled all the food over them

and that may sound funny but like. it broke me. like. that was it, my stress reached its boiling over point and like. as soon as I saw that review I just. left the house and walked around the neighborhood with my girlfriend. like speedwalking, she could barely keep up with me, and then like. I did not speak or eat or drink for like two entire days. it was. not good

and like at that point I thought the whole thing was ruined and I'd just wasted those three years and I felt like the biggest idiot of all time for fumbling that situation like that

but like. that was the last negative review we ever got, the game has a 9/10 rating as of now and like. that's really really good actually, I have every right to be proud of this project, and I have absolutely loved watching so many people play it and stream it and enjoy it and hearing everyone's thoughts about it

but damn those first few weeks were rough as hell, and I hope it never goes like that again when I release a game, or at least, I will be better prepared, heh

when you put your everything into a project, especially when it's for a long time, the more vulnerable it makes you when you finally release it to the public, I think that's the biggest lesson to learn here for me

[loth-creatures]

I’d love to hear your wall of text about the Sion’s voyage!

Aight, so if there's one thing I hated about the show it's that the journey to a whole ass new galaxy felt like it took 5 minutes. So in my star war it takes roughly 7 weeks and it fucking SUCKS

Disclaimer; this is just a huge mess from my head, nothing is set in stone, and I'm only really planning to comicify the last few parts ;)

Also cw for some implied self-harm ideation, terrible coping mechanisms, deteriorating mental health, violence and injuries (just mentioned, not in detail)

To set the scene, they're using the training/rec room as Sabine’s prison bc Wolfbine is too big for the actual brig lol. Much to the entire crew's irritation. The first week or two they just handcuff her in a corner at blasterpoint whenever they want to use it I guess, and find a closet to lock loose equipment in. At least she gets some entertainment. She probably also gets beat up a few times (you should see the other guy) for commenting on people's techniques. But eventually they decide she probably won't try anything and stop caring she's there, so she's left alone for the most part.

She spends a lot of time working out, bc otherwise she is strongly considering bashing her head into the wall. Having to sit alone as a human and pace in circles as a wolf for days on end with the weight of her decision and all kinds of fresh guilt is doing terrible things to her head...She is also spending a lot of time trying and failing not to sob and scream in the shower when no one's around. There is also a viewport in the rec room and Sabine spends an unhealthy amount of time staring into the rainbow swirl of hyperspace. She can't tell whether or not she's hallucinating the strange shapes that occasionally drift into view, singing strange songs that she can feel more than hear. It reminds her of the ocean and she shudders and dreams of drowning, being crushed by the depths. And she dreams of Ezra alone and lost in this void. There's no easy way to break free of such thoughts when she's essentially trapped in a fish bowl.

Meanwhile, Shin hates Sabine even more now for making her a Wolfwalker. She is not adjusting well to turning into a giant beast every time she tries to sleep and on a cramped vessel with little space to stretch those legs. Having been bitten only just before boarding the Sion, she hasn't had the chance to run wild for miles with the wind in her fur; all she knows is that the journey feels twice as long and horrid when she's consious 24/7. Baylan, on the other hand, is like DO YOU REALIZE HOW AWESOME THIS IS?! YOU SHOULD BE THANKING HER. He's not jealous persay, but. Well. Careful what you wish for...

Wolf Sabine and Shin are both getting major zoochosis smh. It's a miracle Shin hasn't killed a random crew member yet. Wolfbine behaves for maybe a week before she starts chewing up the flooring and howling and screaming husky style just to be a little shit. See how long it takes before someone threatens to shoot her, muzzle her, throw her out the airlock (not long). She can't afford to antagonize the crew too much bc there is only one person on the entire ship who wants her there and he has limited authority. Baylan is quick to remind her of this.

He also makes several attempts to talk to her and get on better terms, as he would like to learn more about the wolves. He tells her of the old fragments of stories of Wolfwalkers he found in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant and his facsination with them and how chasing such tales lead to his other ambitions. Lowkey info-dumping about all the fairy-tales and mythalogical stuff that Shin never took an interest in. Sabine is deathly bored enough to tolerate it to extent, but she is not forgiving him for 'killing' Ahsoka, for digging in her head, for putting her in this situation, and she is absolutely kicking herself for having bitten Shin. For letting anyone affiliated with the Empire close to Lothal's secrets. Too her it's put a deep crack through her promise to protect Lothal, perhaps not as much as having given Thrawn a way home, but she's going to try her damnest to undo that one, and shoves that looming guilt aside as best she can, instead spiraling about the fact that she made Shin a Wolfwalker and short of killing her there is no undoing that. So most of her conversations with Baylan end with telling him to go fuck himself.

Just now realizing I've never gone into detail about why Sabine bit Shin. It was a complete accident. Split second reaction out of pain after taking another small slice from Shin’s lightsaber during their fight on Seatos, which she was able to heal herself but it slowed her down enough for Shin to escape. With a nasty little nip to the arm.

That all said Sabine does not want to kill Shin, in fact she's just starting to feel sorry for her. Shin might be all MY ARCH NEMESIS SABINE WREN, but from the beginning Sabine is just like ugh can this random chick stop making my life harder 🙄

And if she's this miserable as a wolf rn, she can imagine what Shin's going through as a first timer, which is all her fault :( plus the fact that as wolves they are instinctively drawn to other wolves and each of their suffering seems to exacerbate the other's. They are both so lonely. 2 weeks in and (human)Sabine is bored and desperate enough to try heckling Shin into sparring with her, on the rare occasion she passes by (Shin’s been avoiding that room). 3 weeks in and Shin's gotten bored and desperate enough to accept the invitation.

I hc that during a friendly match, most Force-users will refrain from using the Force against a non-Force-user for the most part. Shin is not interested in friendly and absolutely hammers Sabine unless Baylan is there to remind her to play nice. Sabine is fine with this. She wants Shin to use the Force (come at me bro). If anyone's gonna be holding back it's Sabine. She wants to get as familiar as possible with Shin's fighting skill and habits without revealing the full extent of her own, while also slowly learning to anticipate and work around Shin’s use of the Force. That way she'll have an advantage the next time they fight for reals. It's difficult to impossible to hold back though, while still presenting enough of a challenge to keep Shin coming back for more.

While Sabine is more experienced, with a wider range of techniques and more refined skill, Shin is still skilled and powerful and it's hardly a fair fight without her armor and gear. She gets her shit rocked.

Sabine is very rarely able to beat Shin when she's using the Force. But she can withstand her. Many of their fights don't end with a quick, decisive victory so much as Shin just wearing Sabine down until she physically can't fight anymore though she refuses to tap out or surrender. Because for one, it's pissing Shin off, which is fun. And for two, ending the fight means returning to the hell that is sitting alone and staring out that window until it makes her sick in the head. She would kill a man for a single can of paint.

While Shin is toying with Sabine and using her as a bunching bag on the basis that she asked for it, keeps asking for it, doesn't know when to give up, and totally deserves it 😤, she is no easy opponent and Shin is continuously shocked by Sabine's ability to survive her. She was supposed to be just another enemy to tear through, yet has survived two murder attempts, and Shin is now stuck with her on this godforsaken ship for some reason, and she doesn't even have the grace to admit when she's defeated. Unstoppable force has met unmovable object.

Shin simultaneously resents and admires her, though doesn't quite respect her yet. And she definitely fears her a little (though she would never admit that). I kinda get the vibe that Shin’s never really lost a fight, has never truly been left for dead at the end of a battle, and the thought terrifies her. Either she is invincible or she is dead. Meanwhile Sabine can be coughing up blood and she'll be like 'cool see you tmr'✌️😎 The fact that Shin probably deleted one of Sabine's kidneys on Lothal and she seems hardly intimidated is well. Intimidating. And annoying. And hot.

I feel like at some point Baylan would point out that Shin could probably learn a thing or two from Sabine if she would stop beating the shit out of her for two seconds. Shin is already aware of that but doesn't want to admit it.

Meanwhile Sabine just doesn't care anymore what happens to her as long as she lives long enough to get off this accursed vessel, doesn't care how hurt she gets, as long as it passes the time and distracts her from her spiraling thoughts. She's offered a medic multiple times and refuses each time. She doesn't want them seeing the full extent of her injuries and then finding out she can heal herself with the wolf-magic, bc the Empire doesn't need to know about that. She only heals the worst injuries and then gaslights Shin about it. 'You did not break any ribs lol I'm fine quit flattering yourself.' Shin’s like how the fuck are you still standing.

This routine of brutally taking out their frustrations on each other is gonna get old though, and is completely unsustainable. Eventually Shin’s convinced that Sabine is just using her for pain. Which isn't wrong even if it's not the only or even primary reason Sabine keeps asking. Sabine calls her out on fighting like a coward and enjoying hurting her anyway. Shin goes and sulks for a few days after that (not without punching Sabine in face first).

Ok time out. What the hell is Shin’s deal anyway. I have only some half-baked ideas about Baylan and Shin’s...thing. They're like the closest thing we've gotten to 'grey Jedi?' I guess? I've been operating under the assumption that that's what they're essentially trying to be (though it's not what they'd call themselves), something more than Jedi, Baylan says, and that 'more' is just chasing power. They will inevitably fall completely. Probably need to watch the show again to get a better read on them tbh but I would rather not. It will hurt my feelings again :( Baylan is like the mountain. He's calm, he's steady and the darkness erodes him slowly. He thinks he's successfully toeing the line with the dark side, but his faults are most evident in Shin's training. She is like a hurricane. The Force rips through her, chaotic and volatile and her control is iron yet brittle. She hasn't known inner peace a day in her life. She just taught herself restraint in the sense that she suppresses her power until she needs it to plow through her enemies. She will fall far more quickly than her master. Baylan's teachings follow the Jedi's to an extent but once the darkness is let in, those lessons become skewed and contradicted, and Shin is a mess because of it, only mirroring her master's control on the surface. Baylan isn't the worst teacher but he is not a good one. While Shin loves and trusts Baylan, she is getting tired and frustrated following his mysterious whispers of legends to an end he never explains clearly. And she is afraid.

ANYWAY, once Shin’s done sulking, one of these days her and Sabine are gonna have a genuine conversation or two and maybe agree to an actually friendly sparring match in which they agree to not just blindly pulverize each other. They take breaks and drink water and tend to their wounds like adults. And Sabine is like you know, we could just. Hang out. As wolves at least. It would suck sooo much less if you'd come play with me as a wolf xoxo. They slowly transition into a more definitive Truce.

Shin does start hanging out in the rec room as a wolf. Sabine still isn't volunteering info on the wolf magic but she does talk about what its like being wolfwalker in general. They tussel and chase each other around, often getting too rough but also loud enough that someone will come yell at them to stfu before they really hurt each other. It's much easier to take naps as wolves too after they've had a chance to burn some energy which makes the entire ship more peaceful.

However, you can't just be the first vessel in centuries to cross between galaxies and not have some kind of disaster right? Well it turns out the strange shapes out the viewport were not hallucinations. The Sion is essentially traveling through the cosmic deep ocean and there are bigger, older things than even the Purrgil out there. Nothing has an interest in attacking the Sion, but at some point something very large drifts close enough to jolt the Sion off course and shorts out the entire system. This ends up forcing them to drop out of hyperspace in the middle of absolute fucking nowhere.

It takes a few days to get the ship running again and recalculate the jump. And here's where Sabine gets to be a hero and earn some respect around here, bc most of their mechanics are droids which also shorted out and lost power. Seeing as they are at risk of losing life support, they let Sabine help with repairs and turns out she's one of the best mechanics on board, even considering the newer technology she doesn't have as much experience with. This also allows her to get more familar with the ship and find the best places to hide out when she eventually makes her escape, while simultaneously giving the crew more reason to let their guard down on her. Including Shin.

That first loss of power is the worst but there are several more blackouts along the way. Human Sabine and Shin are almost getting along now. They still don't like each other but they are hooking up (it does not fix them), and playing card games by flashlight and truth or dare. Maybe Shin even scrounges up some art supplies for Bean. Now she can pass the time hiding sharpie dicks all over the place. They are almost friends by the time there are three days left in the journey and Sabine is preparing to make her move.

Baylan was probably the one to initiate letting Sabine have her lightsaber to sparr occasionally. He wanted to test her metal as well. I think it would be interesting if they sparred a couple times. Baylan is much more chivalrous than Shin and also goes into teacher mode about sword fighting. Sabine isn't a novice anymore but he's still far more experienced. Shin is like no no no we are not adopting her Dad NO-

So anyway escape day comes, Sabine almost cronches Baylan to death, and Shin is beyond angry. Mostly at herself for letting her guard down enough to allow this to happen, she didn't really expect Sabine to not pull something like this in the end right? It's stupid to feel betrayed when it was so inevitable. She is still 100% gonna take it out on Sabine though, especially for almost killing her master.

Despite the escape attempt, Thrawn lets Sabine go as he does in the show, in the hope that she'll lead them to Ezra’s human body. He figures if anyone could find him, it would be a fellow wolfwalker who considers him dear enough to risk the fate of her entire galaxy. Everyone else is like you're just letting her go?? After all that??? And Thrawn's just like lol what did you expect from her? That's Sabine Wren. They probably do attempt to scan the ship for sabotage but it's so huge and her kyber bomb is so small and rudimentary that they don't find it.

At this point, Sabine is run utterly ragged. Bedraggled even. Having not slept in 2 days,(no room to wolf in the Sion's walls so she just had to stay awake 💀) suffered a heart attack at Baylan's hand, and got beat up by WolfShin again. She's visibly about to collapse and Thrawn's probably like 'do you...want to spend the night before you go? And a medic?' He knows he's most likely sending her to perish in the wilderness anyway, but was hoping to give her at least a chance at finding human Ezra for them. Sabine says hell no I'm getting out of here before you change your mind.

She rides until she actually does collapse, hides her body as best she can and continues as a wolf. She figures they let her go for a reason, and plans to run in erratic circles all night every night to hopefully throw them off, only later investigating any clues she finds as human for a few sporadic hours in the day. Thrawn does send Shin to track her at a distance. If she happens to find the trail of Wolf!Ezra first, kill her. This hunt through the wild will go on for several days at least, before there's any sign of Ezra.

[crazylittlejester]

bro. i am in the same boat as you.

asfhdjkss seeing you stress and become disappointed about whumptober is making ME FEEL THE SAME......

feeling upset about your writing and all the prompts not being correctly put down into words can be very hard and complicated!! i get it!!!

it's totally normal to feel that way and i assure you, it's okay!

just know that, even if it is your own decision, you don't have to feel obligated to do all 32 days. that's a bunch of work for someone and a whole lot of planning and writing and that can effect someone's energy and mental health. i appreciate your effort in trying to do it though! but please, don't get worried about producing so many mediocre fics, at the end of the day you're still writing things and im proud!!!

i saw your post about this and immediately felt bad so i hope this can help you feel even a little better... even so, i will be looking forward to anything you end up writing! you are such a fantastic author, never forget that. <3

thanks man 🫶 /gen

i have really been struggling a lot lately with this, and it’s been very hard to not get angry with myself over it because I feel like I haven’t been able to write in months and I’ve been struggling with hating most of what I write these days and I get so incredibly anxious to post anything because I feel like my ability to write and the quality of my fics has deteriorated sooo much. I’ve had my ao3 acc since 2018 and every year I’ve kinda made a tradition almost of orphaning everything I write and starting fresh at the start of the new year because I dislike the vast majority of what I write but I realized a few months ago that I don’t think I can do that this year- this is certainly the most attention my fics have ever gotten and I think at least one person would come yell at me in my asks if i disappeared off the face of the earth never to write for LU again allddkkd

its just very hard not to feel upset about being burnt out for so many months, and it’s hard to see how engagement has been down and have to remind myself it’s not because i suck, it’s literally just because i’ve been making less content. of course engagement would be down, the main reason most people interact with me is BECAUSE I write or do analysis posts or make content, so if im not putting out as much as i used to then that tracks and makes sense, but it’s hard to stop the intrusive thoughts sometimes. It is certainly a fight to not feel useless when I can’t do the one thing I’m supposed to be doing with this blog

anyways… it makes me really happy that there are at least a few people who will read whatever i throw up onto ao3, and all of you who regularly read the things i write and send me asks n such genuinely make me so happy. all of you are awesome

and thank you for this, it was really kind and sweet of you. i hope you have a good day, remember to take care of yourself and get some water n food 🫶

*wet cough* anyway *sniffle* y’all wanna see my tav…? /j *kicks a rock*

[the-s1lly-corner]

I'm wondering,, Could we get an x reader with kinger, caine and ragatha where the reader has been there a while, and a while ago lost someone they were close to (either friend or lover) when they abstracted. Reader has steadily opened up again but struggles to actually talk about their last partner

Kinger, caine, and ragatha w/ a grieving reader !

Bro the base of my thumb feels so stuff I hate it sm!!!!!

Written on mobile! Might draw after writing this since I left a half finished wip yesterday

CAINE:

I'm writing Caine's part last and. As much as I dont wanna say it, as much as i love caine, i do think he would compare himself to your past partner. Even easier since he was there when they were around and when they abstracted. He knows it's bad, he knows it's going to make you feel worse, he knows but hes just a jealous person, you know? Learning these new intimate feelings is hard and confusing

Comfort, I think he would shower you in affirmations and gifts. He doesnt quite yet possess the full emotional... bits... to talk things out with you without, you know, sounding like a computer

Tries to remain outwardly neutral and/or interestsd when you talk about your old partner, you know, for healing and closure and stuff, and he hates feeling these pangs of jealousy. That he wasnt your first.. but hes truly trying to shove that stuff down

KINGER:

He understands, he gets it. Hes still healing over queenie. I think, talking about both of your past partners together may help you heal. Reminisce and try to find peace, you know? Though given kingers deteriorated mental state, you guys may have to tread lightly. That said I think he would cling onto every word when you do open up and talk about your feelings

RAGATHA:

While kinger is the most understanding since hes been there, I think ragatha would be the sweetest, if that makes sense. You see while kinger has to also look out for his own mental health and with him healing as well, he tends to have to reel himself back every now and then to keep himself together. Ragatha on the other hand, doesnt need to do that.. and considering this is a world where someones mental state matters so so much, literally defining life and "death".. I cant blame kinger

Comfort wise, I think ragatha would let you talk for as long as you'd need. You can talk for days on end and she would let you. Loves hearing stories about your partner, is not a jealous person nor does she compare herself to someone who's gone

[2023himbotournament]

CONTACT YOUR GOVERNMENT AND DEMAND A CEASEFIRE FOR PALESTINE

For Eu look up:

Voices in Europe for peace

For Usa look up:

US campaign for Palestinian rights

BOYCOTT FOR PALESTINE

FOA (Friends of Al-Aqsa) have organized a boycott in support of palestine. Here are the key companies to boycott:

HP (Hewlett Packard)

Coca-Cola

Israeli produce

We will be ending our call to boycott

PUMA once the contract with IFA officially dissolves in 2024. Until then, we encourage you to continue boycotting PUMA products.

Please help to spread the word by sending this copypasta to as many blogs as you can and/or going to FOAs website where you can find posters to download and print out

Ok I'm not a copypasta person unless it's memes but like. Look I'm not Palestinian but I'm also a Southwest Asian and my mental health has definitely deteriorated seeing just. Everything. Especially the increase in racism and islamophobia (I'm also muslim) and seeing all the hate crimes and knowing that someone could probably shoot me in the head while I'm writing gay fanfiction in public and justify it by saying that I could've been a dangerous terrorist and therefore my entire family tree must be eradicated-

basically what I'm trying to say is that I'm hoping that making this post on the himbo tourney blog will get some eyes on this. Like. I've been feeling really powerless about this and kinda just like shriveling up and dying lately. Tbh. The world is fxcked right now. In the year of our lord 2024 /ref, here we are post undertale we are being pro-genocide how funny is that haha. It's not funny. It's. It's not. It's not funny . I can't. I've seen too many videos of children dying and crying and I just. I saw the one thing about the kid with cerebral palsy whose parents got shot right in front of them for literally no reason and then they got yelled at by soldiers and like. People literally will look at this and call these people animals?? I saw that term get thrown around a lot. It's just disgusting and like.

have people seen the bingo the literal genocide bingo. People are treating this like a joke like. Do people not realize that Southwest Asian people are like... people??? We're people you know. Like this is mainly targeting Arabs but I've seen stuff about people discriminating against the rest of us too (mainly because they can't tell the difference. Because the idea of not treating Asian cultures as interchangeable applies until you get to Southwest Asia I guess even in progressive circles everyone just says Arab for everything even here I've seen people like-). I'm Persian and I'm still scared someone will cut my life off. I'm 16. Nowruz is next week and I just want to live to it with my family. My mind is inundated wit the tears of the families that had never gotten to have their celebrations. Because of one group on one day.

one group on one day. One group on one day. it's always that. it's always that for people like us.I feel like I'm going insane. It's just 9/11 in America all over again. I wasn't even born for that. But you can just feel it all around you. And now we have the sequel, across the world. But it's used the same way. 7/23. Can't wait for the memes /s. This one thing happens therefore we can dedicate multiple months to killing all of you just making you suffer stripping your dignity you don't deserve anything and we'll make the world hate you because fxck you and then the world goes along with it because nothing good ever happens and I just want to escape from this but every time I go on tumblr it's just this and I know if I ever stop seeing this it means that the worst has happened anyway

and then people try to act like YOU'RE the bigot because you're trying to hold a country's government and military force responsible for war crimes just because the country has its branding in minority groups. How about I make this crystal clear: I don't give a flying fxck about what Israel is, it's what it's doing that matters. I'd be saying nearly the same shzt if they were PERSIAN, and that is MY ETHNICITY. I literally do not care. It doesn't matter. Because killing people is wrong and that should not be a controversial statement but I guess some people like the sound of screams in the morning. The Palestinian death toll has surpassed the 7/23 death toll. And it's still going. And not all the deaths have even been accounted for because bodies are still buried under rubble. Because they're still bombing people and they won't stop. And no one will make them stop.

like I don't give a fxck about Hamas either, I heard some of the members did genuinely say some like directly quoted antisemitic shzt and also they like condoned a racist caricature of a black woman in a magazine I think but I'm not sure about the second one (I know the magazine thing definitely happened but I'm not sure of their like involvement at all-) like. I don't need to suck there dzcks like some people do it's one group of fxcks like I don't. They're just the excuse being used for this. You're bombing the entire population of a country where the majority population is fzcking tater tots. You're attacking children. You are killing children. Paint yourself purple. Dammit. Just. Again it's 9/11 all over again but in another country.

even then like it's like. You know that trope in cartoons that shows up more often than you'd think that was in like Avatar and Korra and RWBY I think where there's like a fictional minority that is oppressed and wants rights and then active protest is represented by an evil terrorist group who attacks people and is the villains of the media and passive protest is always portrayed as good and active protest is evil and there's no nuance and also they just frame the group as just like evil spawned out of nowhere not addressing that they literally would not exist if not for the truly evil system of oppression that basically created them. Like.

You know Hamas only exists because Palestinians were already treated like shzt right? Like they were already displaced and didn't consent to the whole Israel thing and like look up Nakba it's fzcking awful like. Hamas is just a symptom of the disease and there will just be another Hamas if you try to knock it down without actually like. Doing anything about. the fact that Palestinians are oppressed. but people will just act like you can keep punching at Hamas like that'll result in anything like they're the flowers not the roots y'know-

also I'm calling it here, this entire thing is gonna definitely be used down the line by Neo-nazis I mean it kinda already is being used to justify antisemitism but like I saw the stuff of people trying to redefine antisemitism to be synonymous with antizionism and make isrseli and jewish synonymous and to basically gatekeep jewishness from anti-zionist jews (I'm not kidding I actually saw shzt like that) and it's like. Y'all they're gonna turn around in a year or two like "ohhh look at the big bad scary jews- I mean Israelis their identity is literally tied to the genocide of Palestinians they are inherently evil there is no denying it!" (Ignoring the fact that the USA and other bastards of colonization did the same shzt as Israel literally the same story history is repeating itself but we have social media brands this time-). And then like what the fxck do you do about it when the word antisemitic now means anticolonialist so no one takes it seriously anymore. What the fxck are you supposed to do about that. And when they probably made themselves right because they probably contributed to Palestinian Genocide themselves they don't care they're just using them as props in their fxcking jew hatred. But like. Yeah you are now tied to this nationality that is tied to fxcking genocide what do you do? It's like perfect to use for fearmongering around Jewish people since the shzt they used before somehow worked despite literally being pulled out of their xss istg like where the fxck did any of the bank stuff come from like. The fzck?-

im tired. I'm so tired. Both in the literal "It's past 1am" sense and the less literal "make the stop" sense.

I just don't want people to die. I just want people to be happy. I just want people to not suffer but every day it feels like it's getting worse and I just want something to change for the better and I'm scared. Why do people act like it's a bad thing to not want people to suffer? I don't understand. I just. I just don't understand. I. am I naive? For this?

does this wish make me naive?

[maltedghost]

The Omori Fanbase and Misunderstanding of Psychosis

This is going to be more ranty than anything else, so I apologize for that. I think it’s important that I also clarify this is coming from my personal opinion, and not everyone thinks the same.

I may as well mention, I have gone through psychosis for two years and have dealt with long term mental illness my entire life; it’s an uphill battle, and it’s something that never truly goes away. Medication is needed to properly maintain the symptoms of psychosis, and I want that to be kept in mind while reading this.

Here we go

For a game that emphasizes how mental health can take hold of and deteriorate the psyche, I’m surprised/somewhat disgusted by how a majority of the omori fanbase characterizes Basil as an obsessive yandere who is nothing but clingy and all smiles.

I also think it’s important to remember that DW Basil is what Sunny/Omori wants him to be, the same way Sunny/Omori creates the rest of his friends to be ‘perfect’ (which is why he keeps killing DW Basil when he steps out of line from that ‘perfect’ and ‘delicate’ persona).

That being said…

The fanbase is able to separate the DW and RW versions of the characters, but for some reason, this is not the case with Basil. Basil is treated as being exactly the same in RW like he is in DW; clingy, obsessive, and childish (when in reality he is fearing for his life and avoiding everyone like the plague—especially Sunny).

But why is that? My only guess can be is that this is another case of people misunderstanding symptoms of psychotic episodes.

When someone is going through psychosis, reality becomes distorted. You are unable to think or act correctly. Every day is waking up in fear, paranoid that something is going to come get you. It becomes difficult to distinguish what is real and what is not real. You don’t trust anyone, and you have the feeling of constantly being watched. Every day is a waking nightmare, and every night is a battle to fall asleep. It’s impossible to run away from your delusions, and they follow you everywhere you go like some festering parasite that only grows stronger over time.

Basil’s mind has clearly deteriorated throughout those four years. It only makes sense his paranoia and delusions became worse over time, eventually evolving into full psychosis; auditory, visual, tactile hallucinations… its made explicitly clear in-game that Basil suffers from all of these.

As represented by Basil’s SOMETHING, he is quite literally being eaten alive by his guilt and paranoia.

Now, as for anyone who has dealt with psychotic breaks, you’ll know that pushing away those thoughts only make them worse. Which brings me to my next point:

Basil is not obsessed with Sunny. He quite literally has no choice but to think about him. I truly believe he tried pushing away any reminders of his trauma, and I imagine during his first year alone, he tried giving up on the idea that Sunny would be there with him so they could have each other’s backs. He most likely tried moving on and living life as normally as he could.

But that’s not how PTSD works.

Basil’s trauma, no matter how hard he tried to push it away, haunted him every day—thus, Sunny haunted him every day. Every day, Basil’s paranoia had been reminding him of what happened, who was there, and what was promised.

This is what leads him into his psychosis, and his haunted perception of Sunny.

When Basil finally sees Sunny for the first time after four years, he’s not happy. He’s more-so nervous than anything else.

Sunny is a reminder of his trauma, and it’s made clear Basil isn’t ready to face him given he never wants to join your party.

(Displaying disoriented speech)

When he finds out that Sunny came out after all these years just to leave again (he didn’t even hear it from Sunny), of course that would trigger a psychotic response; thus, Basil retreats into the bathroom and manically repeats the phrase that’s gotten him through those four horrid, lonely years.

(Repetition of words/rumination)

While hallucinating as Sunny seemingly enters the bathroom to comfort him after all these years, he’s left alone again to be consumed by his paranoia. This goes on for the remainder of the game; Basil actively avoiding the party and staying inside, believing there is no hope left for him or Sunny.

(Foreshadowing suicidal thoughts)

And then his grandma passes.

Something interesting is that every interaction with RW Basil always leads to a fear response from Basil. Even if the incident from four years ago is never brought up, it’s obvious it’s constantly on his mind (again, psychosis consumes your every waking thought).

(he immediately becomes paranoid around Sunny, talking about Mari, unprompted).

And then there’s Basil’s meltdown.

(Hostility)

Some more symptoms of psychosis is sometimes having to deal with bouts of aggressiveness, word repetition, restlessness, and of course, frenzied/incoherent speaking.

When these meltdowns happen, it often reveals innermost thoughts and/problems, but in a more panicked sort of way. With that said…

I believe Basil’s dialogue in this scene reveals how he truly feels about Sunny.

Taking on the responsibility of hiding a horrid truth, all by himself, for four years—the guilt, paranoia, hallucinations getting worse and worse—and then finding out that the only other person who knows about this horrible sin is about to leave you again; but this time, forever. It’s cruel, and I don’t blame Basil for feeling some type of resentment towards Sunny.

(Part of me views Sunny losing his eye as punishment for his sins, but that’s just me).

Conclusion

I guess what I wanted to get across was that I’m sick of seeing people mischaracterize yet another psychotic character as nothing but a creepy yandere. I find it insulting to those who have gone through either short or long term psychosis (including me), and any of those who may still be dealing with psychotic breaks. I really want to see the fanbase do better, especially when this is a game that can be seen as mental health awareness.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t horribly saddened by OMORI’s neutral endings. Seeing Basil commit suicide and succumb to his psychosis is scary, and it’s something so many people dealing with mental illness fear every day. It’s a reminder of what could have happened to me had I not gotten the support and help I needed (meds, friends, family).

Afterthoughts

I don’t think Basil hates Sunny. Does that mean They should continue being friends? Well, maybe; exposure response therapy is usually helpful for dealing with things like this, and if Basil were to continue avoiding Sunny like the plague I believe it would only make his mental health worse (also of course Basil shouldn’t have stabbed out Sunny’s eye but my boy was hallucinating throw him a bone).

In reality, I think Basil just wants things to go back to the way they were, just like everyone else does. It’s very clear given the context of the game that Sunny and Basil have a special bond (“a red string of fate”).

If anything, I believe Sunny is more obsessed with Basil than Basil is with him, but that’s a different post for the future.

…and don’t even get me started on how Sunny told the truth then left Basil to pick up the scraps and deal with the aftermath of his friends.

…and no, I still have no idea what is up with Basil getting the idea to hang Mari.

[lovelaughsimp]

ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱᶠ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ? ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ? ☕︎

Tags:

bad mental health, low confidence, mention of suicide,sweet Gojo, Gojo being supportive,crying, comfort

Pairing:

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Summary:

Your exam is drawing near and your mental health is deteriorating, Your boyfriend noticed.

You had been ignoring him, your anxiety making you feel dissociate from everything. Horror filling your heart every few minutes, sadness and agony filling you whenever you think about the the negative outcome. Satoru could notice how your behaviour had shifted, from being your lovely self to something who was getting killed inside. Just like a flower– his precious flower, you were withering away. He wasn't dumb, even though he jokes alot, he knows. The way you were lost in thoughts, the way you were always biting your nails, the way you couldn't focus on what he was saying, the way you couldn't even eat anything, the way your mood would always shift, the way you couldn't even have a good hygiene, he noticed all that.

People think he's always joking, but even then he can notice, he noticed everything. Everything about you. You tried not to show your sadness—letting it eats you away from the inside, always taking all your burdens by yourself, always comforting other's but never getting comforted. Even if his six eyes were telling him that you are okay, his soul knows otherwise. "Princess, are you alright?" Satoru murmured softly, his hand grabbing your hand, looking lovingly at you. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?" You smiled forcefully, even if your smile was wide his heart knew otherwise, he knew the twinkle in your eyes when you were genuinely laughing. He sighed, his hands drawing comforting circles on your fingers, "You know you don't have to hide your pain from me, I can see that you are hurting. So, tell me what's bothering you, my love?" He looked at you, seriously. He knew it was serious, the way you were losing your shine, the way his star was falling away. "' 'Toru it's really nothing, don't worry. It's not a big thing. Just me being moody I suppose." You laughed, looking at him trying to let him know that he need not worry, but how could he not when you are his life. "It is a big enough thing, if it's hurting you. If it's making you lose yourself, then it's a pretty serious thing. Everything that bothers you is a big thing, baby." he squeezed your hands lovingly, fingers tracing the tip of your fingers, as if urging you to tell what was bothering you— his beloved.

" 'Toru, I don't know. I j-just can't understand anything. It's making me feel so much, it's like my heart is always on fight and flight mode, I am always feeling anxious. Hell, I can't even sleep because I keep getting nightmares about it." you told him, you told him everything. Your eyes getting teary, a pained expression on your face. Satoru looked at you, his face bearing a sad expression, his heart was breaking up seeing his sun so sad. It's as if his sun is no longer shining. "Shhhh. Baby, I'm here. Tell me what's it about. I'll listen, I promise. I won't judge." His fingers reaching the underside of your eyes, touching your dark circles,"let it all out, sweetheart. It will help" his hands tracing your eye bags, his face still in sorrow."What have you done to yourself, baby. I promised to protect you, to hear you, to bear your sorrow on myself. I want to carry both your sorrows and happiness. How's that you are always comforting me, but never letting me do the same?it hurts to see you sad." His eyes gloomy, looking at you, your state, he wanted to hold you in every phase of your life. He wanted to make you feel happy.

A sob escaped your lips, looking down at your lap, your fingers fidgeting with each other, "My exam is coming but I can't focus on my studying, I can't do anything. Whenever I try to study, my heart starts beating like crazy, and when I don't study it still beats like crazy. I cannot focus on anything at all. Everything feels like a blurry vision, days are moving so fast. I have so much to learn, so much to do...and all these self doubts." Satoru was shocked, he knew your exam was coming and how much that exam mattered to you, but seeing this, that, that exam was hurting you so much, his heart felt heavy. He has never seen you so unhappy, his heart was breaking. How could his love be in so much pain and yet he didn't know? He felt guilty of not knowing before.

" hey, listen! I know you think it's too much for you, I know how much it hurts you, I know you feel like you are stuck in a cycle with no end. But trust me, you will get over it. You will." Satoru looked that you were hiding your face from him, looking downwards. "Hey, look at me sweetheart. " His fingers tucked under your chin, facing your face towards his eyes. His eyes looking like the sky, the sky you wanted to reach desperately from your pit of darkness. His gaze finding yours, as if trying to read your emotions. "Baby....my baby, why are you ruining yourself, my sweetheart. We will do this together. We will study together, should I stay with you and help you study, and it's just an exam how difficult it can be? I think you can slay the exam easily, exam should be scared of you not you baby, you are a demon slayer, you can go *slash slash* and win" Satoru tried to loosen by the environment, trying to act funny, to make you laugh.

"You do not understand Satoru, this exam means everything to me." You said bitterly, your emotions taking the best of you, making you be rude to him. He didn't mind, he knew you were mad, unhappy, stressed. His eyes teary from seeing you in so much pain. "I understand your everything, my love. I really do." He smiled, caressing your hair, his touch felt comforting, loving. For a second, you forgot about everything, eyes bursting in tears. He pulled you in a hug, his left hand caressing your back, while his right hand made way to back of your head, patting you. His hands cold, but yet you were feeling so warm. "Let it all out, baby. I'm here. Your 'toru is here. We will go to this together, your fights are not yours, but mine as well. Your pain is mine to share, mine to fight, mine to heal for. It all shall pass soon, my love. You will be alright." His words and hand comforting you, you were feeling loved. " 'Toru, I was so tensed, it felt so unbearing, it was to the point, I wanted to kill myself. The outcome scaring me, what if it doesn't work out? What if I'm not good enough? What if I am not made for this? What if I'm just a failure....what if you would leave me?" Your voice broke at the end, crying in his chest, letting all the sorrow flow in his shirt, as if your tears were reaching his heart. His eyes widened in shock,feeling a lump in his throat, his breathing hitched, you wanted to die? You wanted to end yourself? You, the person he loved the most in the world, the person he could follow everywhere, even to death wanted to kill yourself? The thought enough to make an unsettling sensation in his body, his arms visibly shaking around your body, his hug tightening, feeling nauseous at the thought of a world without you.

No, he needed to pull himself together, he needed to be strong for you. His hands pulled you back, looking into your eyes. "Look at me, baby. Please." He pleaded, his voice on the verge of shattering, he couldn't muster up any words, enough to make you feel heard. "Baby, you are going to study for it and you will succeed in it. I'll make sure of that. We will make sure of that. You are so smart, don't let your self-doubt tell you otherwise. You and I, we are literally the strongest together, you will win, baby. But even if, hypothetically speaking, even if, once in a million chance, you do not. We will try again. Okay? Cause you, my love, is so so strong, and hwo could you think, I would leave you for this reason? I could never leave you, baby. You are like a drug to me. Never even in my dreams I'll leave you. Don't you ever think about leaving me in this hell alone, baby. I promise I'll follow you everywhere, even death can't take us apart." He cupped your face, his lips kissing your tears away. His own eyes trying to hold the tears. He will do anything to make you feel happy. You will do it, he will make sure of that. He will do everything to protect you. He will do everything to make you feel loved.

Note: guys, I know alot of you are going through alot of difficult stuff in your life, even if everybody makes you feel that the thing that's bothering you is small, it is not. Your emotions are yours only and no one else can feel them. Don't you ever feel you are not loved, don't you ever belittle yourself. Even if you feel like you have noone by your side, you have God. You matter to him, your pain amd sufferings are his as well, he can feel for you, ask him and he will show you the path, that is why we have moon when darkness exist, a sign from nature that there will always be light, look for it. If you don't believe in God, then you have yourself. You shall be your own castle my love. Everything will pass and you will survive <3

[tyfinn]

Had a conversation with my mother that turned sideways in a matter of minutes. I feel the need to write what happened. I'm not asking for sympathy or criticism. I just need to get this off my chest.

TW/CW: Walking away from a toxic parent

Mom: "Wow- it's been so long since I've heard from you, I thought you were dead."

Silence.

Me: "I don't know how to respond to that."

Mother: "I'm just saying it would be nice to hear from my children from time to time."

Me: "I'm not dead, and the phones go both ways, Mom."

Mother: "I never know when to call you!"

Me: "I'm home every evening and weekends. I'm not having this conversation with you again."

Silence.

Mother: "Now you're pissed and I won't hear from you in another six months. Have a nice week! Thanks for calling!"

One of my therapists once told me to not engage when a toxic person pushes you. It does work, and they get very mad when you don't engage. Case in point.

To be fair, it has been six months since I've seen her. It is complicated.

Today, however, was different.

Today I believe the fractured relationship with my mother is finally beyond repair this time. It has been deteriorating for a number of years now.

There have been many "breaking points" throughout the years. Four years ago I thought it was done. I spoke to my uncle, and he told me, "she's your mother, she's family, and you need to keep trying." So I did.

I've been trying for years. I was forced to grow up and be the adult in our relationship since I was seven.

I got where I am today because I have worked my ass off. I never asked for help, and any success I achieved was viewed as me being better than everyone else.

I'm tired. I'm beyond tired.

I don't want to keep trying anymore.

I don't want to feel obligated to celebrate birthdays, mother's days, and holidays with someone who does not want to know anything about me or what is happening in my life.

For years I have struggled anytime I receive compliments, or when anyone offers me support. But I'm trying to do better. I have a husband, best friend, nieces and nephews, and a found-family who all love me very much.

I found AMAZING support from fellow writers after I started writing. Many of whom I now consider my friends. They know me better than my family, check in on me (and I do them, as well), and make me feel good about who I am. Thank you all for reading my words and encouraging me to continue.

I realize now, that encouragement was lacking while growing up.

My mother was a single mother who struggled with depression and alcoholism. She chose her second husband over her children. I know now she did the best she could back then. Unfortunately, words have been said that cannot be unsaid, time has passed that cannot be given back, and no amount of me forgiving her can make her have an interest in my life.

I've read books on toxic parenting and toxic relationships.

Sometimes you have to walk away from that toxicity in order to keep your mental health in check.

I'm choosing to do that, and I know what the consequences of that may be. I'm choosing to walk away from a family I am not close to.

I need to do what is best for me and my well-being.

I'm okay with that. I've been okay with that for years now.

[hussyknee]

X

Fourth close friend blocked me. I didn't even do anything to her, she just hangs out with the other three.

I just wish one of them would explain why the way I behaved during the worst of my mental illness was enough to cancel out the years and years of friendship before that. I'm not saying it was justified, I'm saying I can't even remember half that year. I was dumped by my therapist unceremoniously, planning to commit suicide, bought equipment to do it, fought to be hospitalized for it, then fell out with my relatives after I asked them for help, went for six weeks of ECT on my own after which I still have large gaps in my memory, then my mother had a stroke and broke her hip and turned into an even worse abusive demon while draining all my savings. I had that fight with my best friend while disassociating for three days. And then my physical health deteriorated so much over the next year that I developed agoraphobia because I had been housebound so long. I blocked the fourth friend as much for her sake as mine because I was unstable and systematically burning down all my friendships.

The whole goddamn reason I busted up so bad with them was years of built up triggers from moral OCD that I had no idea I had in the first place. I fought against the obsessions and triggers for fucking years trying not to hurt them. And I was mostly successful because I only recall having a one big fight with my former best friend before all this. I don't blame her for anything because she really tried to stick it out with me until I fucked her up badly. But the other three didn't even try.

Like they don't have to be my friend, I know I burned us down, and I'm glad they walked away when they did. But why can't they at least talk to me one last time a year later before cutting off contact? Why don't all the years we were friends before I went quite literally insane matter?

This is probably really self-pitying and self-justifying again or something but I'm so tired of losing friendships to mental illnesses I didn't even know I had until after the fact. I'm so tired of having to work so goddamn hard to not become this horrible toxic person and failing because life won't cut me a single fucking break. I feel like I'm a bomb about to go off, like I'm fundamentally dangerous to know and an emotional vampire like my Mum. Things just seem to get worse every year and I keep losing more relationships, more health, more hope, more opportunities.

I can't kill myself now because my kittens need me but I wish I had gone through with it last year. I wish I could go back in time to when I first attempted fifteen years ago and go through with it. Staying alive hasn't been worth it and I have no hope it ever will be. When all else failed I used to be glad I did because of all the animals I was able to save, but now I think maybe death is the greatest gift this world can give anyone.