ah, but it was my fault. i donāt speak english, and i accidentally changed ājujutsu highā to just āschoolā š god, thatās so embarrassing
no it's okay, you're english is great! you said "the school" but i read it as "school" and was like "school.....in college or high school.....i don't understand....."
but again i'm stupid right now and not operating at top level
iām a little curious. what do you think happened to the reader and sukuna after the end of your fic? did she keep their relationship a secret? did she leave school? did she actually become his queen? ughhh, iām obsessed with knowing more.
Iām gonna level with you, Iām not sure what fic youāre talking about here. I donāt have a fic where reader might become queen AND is in school AND keeps their relationship a secret. I think you may have confused me with someone else.
Reader is not in school but is a princess (noble? Unclear) in whatās mine, and yeah, they get married. They make each otherās lives better and everyone elseās worse, itās very sweet
Reader had a crazy opportunity to be queen in we move swiftly, and is keeping their relationship a secret, but is not in school. Iām not sure if this is what youāre talking about. This fic hasnāt ended yet and by god, you will find out what happens. you will. I havenāt updated in three months but youāre going to find out okay Iām going to write it.
My other school (college) fics are jealous jealous and Sukunaās body, but jealous jealous isnāt about those things and Sukunaās body isā¦also not about those things. but in a different, even less so way
my bad I totally forgot about that one, this hit me like a bolt of lightning.
I have an idea for a part three actually, where we see some of this shake out. I want to write it, not sure when, but basically reader and Sukuna have a likeā¦weird, not very spelled out arrangement, where theyāre not seeing other people and they fuck and they kind of live together, and sheās āqueenā of nothing? Itās confusing, for everyone involved.
Even the school. She canāt hide it anymore (at least, thatās where Iām at right now.) Sukuna spends half his life at her apartment, the writingās on the wall.
Again, SORRY, i donāt know why this fic flew under the radar
iām a little curious. what do you think happened to the reader and sukuna after the end of your fic? did she keep their relationship a secret? did she leave school? did she actually become his queen? ughhh, iām obsessed with knowing more.
Iām gonna level with you, Iām not sure what fic youāre talking about here. I donāt have a fic where reader might become queen AND is in school AND keeps their relationship a secret. I think you may have confused me with someone else.
Reader is not in school but is a princess (noble? Unclear) in whatās mine, and yeah, they get married. They make each otherās lives better and everyone elseās worse, itās very sweet
Reader had a crazy opportunity to be queen in we move swiftly, and is keeping their relationship a secret, but is not in school. Iām not sure if this is what youāre talking about. This fic hasnāt ended yet and by god, you will find out what happens. you will. I havenāt updated in three months but youāre going to find out okay Iām going to write it.
My other school (college) fics are jealous jealous and Sukunaās body, but jealous jealous isnāt about those things and Sukunaās body isā¦also not about those things. but in a different, even less so way
Iām miyazaki rightā¦..I aināt junji ito in thisā¦..
@belimah is like what if there was a cannibalistic society after livestock collapsed? and Sukuna was the heir to the human meat factory empire, wouldnāt that be crazy? ha ha yes! yes!
And Iām like this is Sukuna :) heās six :) one time he had a father :) now he doesnāt :) but he has Yuuji :) and he trusts Yuuji so much :) soon it will be summertime :) and Yuuji will take Sukuna to the zoo :) and everything will be fine I think :))))))))))))))))))))))) nothing else will happen :) meanwhile Iām vague posting about my mother.
Miyazaki, EXCEPT for that bit about the Beatles. I fucking love the Beatles
hello my name is teeth and I have moderate to severe OCD. it tricks me into thinking Iām moral scum. also sometimes it makes me look crazy in public. like, a little bit.
And Iām making a post about it. Becauseā
Well, one, I was on a plane with time to kill and I thought about it a lot. Two, itās been kicking me in the pants lately. Weāre, weāre struggling.
And three, I want to talk about it because I think OCD is misunderstood. Itās the washing hands illness, or the checking the stove again and again illness. And like. I am the Queen of both of those things, donāt you worry. I am chronically late because it takes me five extra minutes to leave my apartment because I have to check the stove and the windows and the faucets and the toilet and the front door. Why?
Well, let me tell you. One time I left the stove on (dangerous. disastrous) so obviously I am a chronic Stove Leaver On-er and should be killed. The toilet in my apartment runs and could potentially overflow and flood the place. One time I didnāt check the toilet and it turned out it was running (dangerous. disastrous) so obviously I am a chronic Toilet Running Non-Checker and should be killed.
And, of course, if I were to leave the apartment with the stove on or the toilet running or the door unlocked everyone in the whole world would simultaneously point at me and yell āshe is unlovable,ā and then stone me in the town square.
So, yes. I have that kind of OCD. But those are the outside manifestations, the ones that you can see. I also have the inside ones, that eventually turn into outside ones. And I donāt we talk about those enough, because, to put it mildly, they donāt bother other people, until they do.
So. Inside manifestations. My main one is intrusive thoughts.
Right now, at my worst, I have probably have 30 intrusive thoughts times a day.
That sounds like a lot. It is! And I think Iām lowballing it. 30 is a lot of times to panic about being garbage.
My intrusive thoughts always remind me of something bad Iāve done in the past. A mistake Iāve made, a time Iāve hurt someone, a time Iāve embarrassed myself. So Iām constantly, like. Tormented by the time I made my sister cry, or I said something to hurt my boyfriend, or acted so awfully in public that someone snapped at me.
And, yeah, that doesnāt seem that bad. But this is OCD, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. When the thought hits, itās always āyou hurt this person irrevocably because you are an irrevocably terrible person. you owe it to yourself, the person you hurt, and the entire world to think about this nonstop so you never make this mistake again.ā
In other words: āyou are a bad person because you did this. If you donāt obsess over it and find out exactly what you did wrong, you will continue to be a bad person.ā
And wouldnāt you know it, I obsess over what happened. Suddenly, I canāt stop thinking about it, and the stakes are so high, because if I donāt obsess over it, Iām a bad person. A lot of the time the obsession part of the OCD becomes worrying about your own moral character. Itās sneaky, and itās also not discussed as much. We notice when someone washes their hands over and over again. We donāt always notice when someone spirals out of control because theyāre worried they are, at their core, a terrible person.
So Iām upset, Iām anxious because I am convinced I am utter filth, and I canāt stop fucking thinking about it. How do I get it to stop? Ah. I do a physical motion. Now, Iām weird in public. How nice.
Itās not the same every time, but I have to do something physical. In fact, I am compelled to do so. Itās a compulsion. Like in the name. Almost forgot about that.
Usually, itās me hitting myself. Sometimes itās not that noticeable, itās just a short slap on my thigh. Sometimes itās me hitting myself really hard in the forehead with my fist.
Once, in a grocery store, I closed my eyes and opened my mouth in a silent scream. I didnāt even realize what I had done until after but like. There were people around. Someone definitely saw.
And to be fair, this is a relatively unnoticeable action. I donāt make noise, and I donāt attract attention because I donāt make big, sporadic movements, but still. Grown ass woman pulling the scream alone in a grocery store. Odd.
And if youāre talking to me when the intrusive thought hits, itās so fucking obvious. Iāll just be mid-conversation and Iāll have to stop to slap myself on the arm because āI thought of something bad.ā
Intrusive thought, internal torture, physical compulsion. Bad days, this happens 20+ times. Itās unpleasant.
For the curious, no, Iām not taking medication for OCD right now, for a variety of reasons. Iām trying a new strategy where the motion I do is just me tapping myself lightly twice, or clapping twice. Hopefully, that will help.
So yeah. I have OCD. There are other ways it interferes with my life, but I focused on intrusive thoughts because, until recently, I didnāt realize they were OCD and just thought I was a horrible person who deserved to be killed for her crimes.
And. If you find yourself consumed by thoughts of your own past mistakes, well. Hello.
hello my name is teeth and I have moderate to severe OCD. it tricks me into thinking Iām moral scum. also sometimes it makes me look crazy in public. like, a little bit.
And Iām making a post about it. Becauseā
Well, one, I was on a plane with time to kill and I thought about it a lot. Two, itās been kicking me in the pants lately. Weāre, weāre struggling.
And three, I want to talk about it because I think OCD is misunderstood. Itās the washing hands illness, or the checking the stove again and again illness. And like. I am the Queen of both of those things, donāt you worry. I am chronically late because it takes me five extra minutes to leave my apartment because I have to check the stove and the windows and the faucets and the toilet and the front door. Why?
Well, let me tell you. One time I left the stove on (dangerous. disastrous) so obviously I am a chronic Stove Leaver On-er and should be killed. The toilet in my apartment runs and could potentially overflow and flood the place. One time I didnāt check the toilet and it turned out it was running (dangerous. disastrous) so obviously I am a chronic Toilet Running Non-Checker and should be killed.
And, of course, if I were to leave the apartment with the stove on or the toilet running or the door unlocked everyone in the whole world would simultaneously point at me and yell āshe is unlovable,ā and then stone me in the town square.
So, yes. I have that kind of OCD. But those are the outside manifestations, the ones that you can see. I also have the inside ones, that eventually turn into outside ones. And I donāt we talk about those enough, because, to put it mildly, they donāt bother other people, until they do.
So. Inside manifestations. My main one is intrusive thoughts.
Right now, at my worst, I have probably have 30 intrusive thoughts a day.
That sounds like a lot. It is! And I think Iām lowballing it. 30 is a lot of times to panic about being garbage.
My intrusive thoughts always remind me of something bad Iāve done in the past. A mistake Iāve made, a time Iāve hurt someone, a time Iāve embarrassed myself. So Iām constantly, like. Tormented by the time I made my sister cry, or I said something to hurt my boyfriend, or acted so awfully in public that someone snapped at me.
And, yeah, that doesnāt seem that bad. But this is OCD, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. When the thought hits, itās always āyou hurt this person irrevocably because you are an irrevocably terrible person. you owe it to yourself, the person you hurt, and the entire world to think about this nonstop so you never make this mistake again.ā
In other words: āyou are a bad person because you did this. If you donāt obsess over it and find out exactly what you did wrong, you will continue to be a bad person.ā
And wouldnāt you know it, I obsess over what happened. Suddenly, I canāt stop thinking about it, and the stakes are so high, because if I donāt obsess over it, Iām a bad person. A lot of the time the obsession part of the OCD becomes worrying about your own moral character. Itās sneaky, and itās also not discussed as much. We notice when someone washes their hands over and over again. We donāt always notice when someone spirals out of control because theyāre worried they are, at their core, a terrible person.
So Iām upset, Iām anxious because I am convinced I am utter filth, and I canāt stop fucking thinking about it. How do I get it to stop? Ah. I do a physical motion. Now, Iām weird in public. How nice.
Itās not the same every time, but I have to do something physical. In fact, I am compelled to do so. Itās a compulsion. Like in the name. Almost forgot about that.
Usually, itās me hitting myself. Sometimes itās not that noticeable, itās just a short slap on my thigh. Sometimes itās me hitting myself really hard in the forehead with my fist.
Once, in a grocery store, I closed my eyes and opened my mouth in a silent scream. I didnāt even realize what I had done until after but like. There were people around. Someone definitely saw.
And to be fair, this is a relatively unnoticeable action. I donāt make noise, and I donāt attract attention because I donāt make big, sporadic movements, but still. Grown ass woman pulling the scream alone in a grocery store. Odd.
And if youāre talking to me when the intrusive thought hits, itās so fucking obvious. Iāll just be mid-conversation and Iāll have to stop to slap myself on the arm because āI thought of something bad.ā
Intrusive thought, internal torture, physical compulsion. Bad days, this happens 20+ times. Itās unpleasant.
For the curious, no, Iām not taking medication for OCD right now, for a variety of reasons. Iām trying a new strategy where the motion I do is just me tapping myself lightly twice, or clapping twice. Hopefully, that will help.
So yeah. I have OCD. There are other ways it interferes with my life, but I focused on intrusive thoughts because, until recently, I didnāt realize they were OCD and just thought I was a horrible person who deserved to be killed for her crimes.
And. If you find yourself consumed by thoughts of your own past mistakes, well. Hello.
Saddest part of Modulo is that Yuji probably lived long enough to see the human earthworm franchise get milked for merchandise by the film industry and then get a really really shitty reboot
