these two will be the end of me srsly

anonymous asked:

➐ ((this one fits so well w/ shion + post reunion srsly))

                                             █ ❛ not so sexy.

➐ Too stressed to get in the mood.

It wasn’t Nezumi’s fault.

Three hectic meetings, two missed busses, and one harried phone call later had dumped Shion on the wrong end of lucky, papers all disorganized and their tabbed notes almost falling off where he had marked important memos or ideas. Scrambling to collect them all in time as he fumbled still for the key in his coat pocket to their shared apartment (thank god the new city had seen the need to at least accommodate his steadfast request for enough space for two; nezumi only laughed with a hidden fond gleam in his eyes when he had seen everything nearly prepared as if Shion had known the exact minute of his arrival), the door had swung open almost of its own accord. He had about two seconds to stare dumbly at the now lack of obstacles in his way before being yanked roughly inside and with a fleeting sense of hopelessness, watched as the papers slipped out of his hand to land haphazardly in an ironic mosaic representative of the state he was currently living. 

Unfortunately, while he might have been preoccupied mourning the loss of all those carefully color coded notes and drafts, his brain was quickly acclimating itself to the situation and letting him know in no short detail that he currently had 4/5 of a Nezumi attached to his person, mouth attempting to either convert him into a vampire as it sought a home on his neck or growling out some version of a threat if he so dared to move. He duly translated said speech into meaning ‘I had a bad day and you weren’t here to soothe my bruised ego also I think I missed you and I still don’t know how to express that without some form of belligerent concern’ and perhaps if maybe he had only missed one mode of transportation and had to deal with only two meetings and his papers hadn’t fallen to disarray on the floor between them, he’d have been willing to put up with these attempts at persuasion. 

But as it were, he had promised to work on drafts for the new hospital planned to be erected near the center of the city, with outposts for patients scattered at regular intervals all the way to the countrysides, approve the groundwork foundation for a project involving the revamping of the current sewer systems, and attempt to tumble into bed to gain at least five hours of sleep before he had to be up to inspect the new apartment buildings being supported for the homeless victims of the West Block. 

Maybe if he had thought to explain all that to Nezumi, the fight that ensued would have been marginally better handled. 

Instead, frustrated refusal and pointed shoving led to raised voices and petulant accusations and Nezumi stomping away to slam their bedroom door like the diva he was and Shion cast out to sleep on their bumpy second hand couch with his coat as a blanket and only the sickly glow of his laptop for company to match that of the ache inside his heart. There was always that unspoken comment that laid nestled between their frequent arguments, the blatant elephant in the room concerning Nezumi’s departure and Shion’s handling of the reconstruction process mainly on his own shoulders. Neither wanted to bridge that topic yet, and frankly, Shion didn’t know what kind of words lurked buried inside his throat that might spill out if they did. 

But he’s eighteen, tapping away at structural blueprints, sitting more alone than ever before in an apartment shared by two and wondering when had everything changed or if it had always been this way and he had just been too naive to see it.

srsly though, enough singing

why cant i just go do things? it would be easy right? i think

well obviously not, ive tried and failed and now im not motivated enough, or rather, im demotivated enough to wait eternally


i know, not on a subconscious, but on like a very low level of consciousnessicity, that im waiting for two things to happen in my life

1. i move away from home and ill probably isolate myself from my family because thats what id end up doing anyways, but this would allow me to be out 100% and seek treatment or w/e its called because the consequences would be lesser?

2. my family finds out because i dont know why they already havent confronted me and i just think my tower of cards will fall at some point, sooner or later they’ll meet a friend who calls me cornelia or i accidentally reveal myself in a way or something, i dreamt a dream about my brother using my computer and finding my facebook that i had left open

but then there are my less destructive ideas, though, way less appealing, if i say so myself

3. i come out to everyone via mail and im just like “fuck you all if you dont want to use my pronouns or name or if youre just gonna argue/complain/whatever about me being trans then ill cut you off and all that”

4. i seek treatment(at some point im not really doing anything and nothing makes me want to do it a specific day) and i know that to get hrt you have to have been out full time for a while and then id HAVE to come out because my scientist told me so, and ill just tell my family exactly that

5. i come out to my older brother who is bound to be the freshest kid in 90s, 00s, 10s-town and when ive made sure hes got what this is then i will just bring him with me as i come out to people and he can just be my buff fuckin shield

i mean the last one would also be being a a bit of a dba-g to utilize him only for that, i mean, tbh, i hate my brother so w/e, but if anyone is most at fault in our relationship its me because im just plain rude and ill do whatever i can to not do chores or drag everyone down with me, but he took my candy when i was a child so its ok

so my mum’s a social pedagogue. 

Once when I was in first or second grade, at the end of the school year there was this raffle where two of us won a stuffed animal, and I was lucky enough to get one. Now, I had this horrible friend at the time who never could bear not having something that someone else had, so she started crying and bitching and trying to guilt me into giving her the prize, and you know what I said? I said, “y’know, if you had won the elephant, I’d be happy for you and not be sad.” 

Whenever my mum tells this story, she ends it with her asking herself, “what kind of monster have I created”.