#I did not mean to make this kind of depressing
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woso-dreamzzz · 1 day ago
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Foxes III
Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader
Summary: You don't like touch
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Spain loses to Japan.
A four nil defeat that leaves everyone a bit depressed.
Football's a boring game to you so you didn't really watch it despite sitting on the bench. Football is Mami's whole life though. You know that and you know this defeat will make her feel a bit sad.
You think that's kind of stupid because it's just a game but maybe it's different when you play a game as an adult. You don't know why it would be different but you decide that it must be because the whole team seems a little depressed about it.
"It's like when you lose a fox toy," Tia Ale says to you on the ride back to the hotel.
"I don't lose my toys," You reply, staring out the window.
"Well, if you did-"
"But I don't."
"What about when you left Roja at home?" Alexia says," Your Mami said you were sad about that. This feels like that to everyone else."
You were very sad when that happened. You missed Roja like crazy for ages after you first moved to Mexico. That must be how everyone is feeling now.
You head bobs up and down in agreement. "Okay."
You don't ask anymore questions on the ride home and Mami takes you straight up to your room for bath time. She wraps you in a nice fluffy towel before helping you into your pyjamas.
Dinner will be soon though so she throws a jumper on top of your pyjamas to keep them clean so you can go straight to bed after you've eaten.
Your hand closes around one of your foxes before leaving the room.
The girls are still a little sad, even you can tell that and you're not very good at working out what other people's feelings are.
You're the only one that's enjoying dinner which is seriously saying a lot because the food here is weird and you're very picky with what you're eating.
"Mami," You say," You still sad?"
Jenni's a little shocked at being addressed so openly. You don't like doing that in public. You're fairly silent around other people. She frowns.
"A little, osita," She says," Why? Are you feeling sad too?"
"I'm not sad," You reply. Your fork scrapes the plate wrong and you cringe, a whole body shudder going through you as you set down your cutlery.
Slowly, you shift in your chair before standing to approach Jenni.
Like your speaking, you're not big on touch either, at least in public. Jenni's used to you hanging out by her legs at home because she always wears the softest trousers and you like touching them but skin on skin had never been a big desire or need of yours.
Jenni has a hard enough time getting you to accept affection at home. She's already ruled out touching in public apart from hand holding and that was only because the alternative was a leash and you felt that was too restricting and made you breath funny.
But you curl into her lap now and give her a quick squeeze that bore some semblance of a hug. Jenni's too shocked to hug you back, jaw slack as you slip off her lap.
You go to Tia Ale next, clambering up into her seat with her and giving her a quick hug that's so fast that she doesn't realise what's happening until it's over.
Irene is next and, after seeing Jenni and Alexia go through it, she's fully prepared. But the moment her arms curl around to hug you back, you're wiggling away and already on your way.
Just because you're giving out hugs doesn't mean you need to be hugged back.
Codi's after Irene and then Mario, who both know now to allow their arms to go limp when you hug them. You go through all the Barcelona girls you know before coming straight back to Jenni.
You tug on her hand and she very gently takes yours in hers. She's slow and careful just in case you want to pull away but you let her hold your hand.
"Mami," You say.
"Yes, Osita?"
"With me...please."
Jenni stands and you lead her over to the girls in the team you've missed out, the ones that you don't know as well as the Barcelona girls. You drop Jenni's hand to hug each girl before squeezing Jenni's hand the moment you can hold it again, you other hand coming up to run your fingers over her comfortable trousers.
"That was a very nice thing you did at dinner," Jenni tells you as she tucks you into bed that night.
"Yes. Tia Ale said so," You reply, getting all snuggly and comfortable with a fox under each arm.
"Tia Ale is right," Jenni says," Your cuddles really cheered everyone up."
"Not sad anymore?" You check and Jenni nods.
"No one's sad anymore."
"Good."
Jenni presses a soft kiss to your forehead and pulls your covers all the way up. "Night, Osita. I love you."
"Love you too."
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bcbryar · 17 hours ago
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Text from Tom's music video:
TommyInnit just posted a song and a video, and in the video there's a bunch of quick, flashing screens with text. I screenshotted them all and transcribed them in this post (below the cut because it's kind of long).
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If you find a corner of this world wide web that has any substance at all, then please stick to it. The hundreds of millions of people that now place absolutely no value on their time, their precious time, and spend it watching soulless content designed to hold their attention is depressing. This all depressed me. There is so little substance in this mess of a world wide web. So little heart or soul or love. If you find any substance, stick to it.
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A Tribute To Minecraft, The Great Potato War, TheOriginalAce's Q&A's, Ludwig's 2020 streams, SMPLive Talent Show. This was everything to me.
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Status is irrational & nature is cyclical It's attention porn. Don't get addicted to it. It's nothing. It means nothing. They are more insecure than you. But what the fuck do I know?
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When I was a boy, alone, this meant everything to me. I found my people. My place. Along the way I was a part of something that really meant something. That is the only good bit. Whatever I did that meant something, that is the only good bit.
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I CAN'T WATCH BACK MY OLD VIDEOS BECAUSE EVERYONE IN THEM WASN'T WHO THEY SAID THEY WERE. DO YOU KNOW HOW SAD THIS MAKES ME FEEL. DO YOU KNOW HOW SAD I HAVE FELT ALL YEAR.
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HOW COULD ANYONE POSSIBLY FIND OUT WHO THEY ARE WHEN YOU ARE ALL IMMERSED IN THIS NEEDLESS, SELF INDULGENT SPIRAL OF INSTANT GRATIFICATION AND DISTRACTION. THIS IS NOT GOOD FOR YOU.
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[Text is upside down in the video] I don't think I trust anyone here. I don't think anyone trusts anyone here. the poor 12 year old watching this sad ass video when he subscribed for funny minecraft videos. poor guy lmao.
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yeah i know it's too much like bo burnham. It won't be in a year though. IN a year it will be like Tom Simons. Just let me figure out what that means, OK?
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I used to feel like I was just doing everything wrong. That I just wasn't smart or good like any of my friends. I realise now I was the only one doing the right thing. I just wanted to have fun. What I'd do to get that back, my god. What I'd do. To have things be simple again.
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I just don't want to slip back into who I was. A year ago I needed you. A year ago most of my self esteem and worth and love came from you. A year ago I wasn't happy unless you were. I don't think I can ever do that again. That really was wrong. How did I possibly end up there?
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In Love and War (9)
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Summary: The completion of the wards falls on an anniversary Warlord!Rhys can't forget.
Content Warnings: Mentions of Death/Infant Loss; Depression; Mentions of Drinking.
Author's Note: Brought the story back just to fill it with angst, I'm so sorry!
Previous Chapter/ Masterlist
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Rhys is gone by morning, his side of the mat cold. My head feels like it’s full of cotton; mouth full of sand. My bones ache, most of all my hands, it’s an effort to stretch out my fingers without feeling like my skin might tear right off the bone.
At least I haven’t covered the tent in vines while I slept.
There’s a waterskin and some rations left beside the mat for me, after a couple minutes of trying to rub the stiffness from my fingers, I sit up and scarf it down like I haven’t seen a meal in a week. My stomach certainly rumbles like it. I wonder if an increased appetite is a side effect of expelling so much power?
Once I’m finished, I slip back into my armor, wincing at the smell that clings to the leather. I need a shower, desperately! We’re supposed to be meeting up with Cassian’s group today, hopefully that means we’ll return to the valley soon and I can find some place to get clean. 
By the time I’ve finished with the laces, Azriel’s poking his head in the tent and giving me a five minute warning before camp starts to move. He doesn’t offer up any answers as to where Rhys is before disappearing again.
Hoping the minatiny of this familiar task will help lessen the tension in my muscles, I make quick work of tearing down the tent and getting it all rolled up to leave. My head still feels terribly foggy, but I suppose I could still feel like I was going to tear out of my skin, so I’ll take it as a win. 
Azriel helps me get the supplies mounted onto Rhys’s horse, but the warlord still doesn’t show himself until right before we leave. He wears his cowl again, the stars covering his eyes, the heavy fabric shielding his wings from the cold mountain air. His gloved hands grab my hips and lift me into the saddle and he swings silently into his seat behind me without so much as a hello. 
I try to not let the silence get to me, but worry worms its way into my chest the longer we go without speaking. Had I done something wrong yesterday? Was he irritated with how slow my progress has been? He seemed pleased last night, had I misinterpreted it?
His powers seem… dull today. The starlight not so bright, his shadows sluggish as he stitches the wards back together. His body is heavy against my back, like he’s having a hard time holding himself upright.
“Are you ok?” It takes a couple hours for me to work up the courage to ask.
He nuzzles his cowl covered head against my neck. “I’m all right.”
“You’re quiet today,” I say gently.
“Just a little tired,” he assures.
“Did you not sleep?” I was so exhausted last night I hadn’t been aware enough to see if he’d fallen asleep with me. He’d been so exhausted when we’d made it back to camp I’d just assumed he was out as fast as I was.
“I’ll sleep when this is done,” he replies.
My chest aches at the thought of him being up all night, tying these wards back together after spending all day babysitting me and my errant powers. “You need to rest too.”
He kisses my temple, his lips like ice against my skin. “I’ll be alright.”
A few more minutes of silence stretch out between us, the only sound the horse’s hooves against the rocks and boisterous conversations of the men behind us. They’re in good spirits today, making bets on whether or not we beat Cassian around the mountain. Rhys makes no attempt to join the conversation, his focus still on the wards.
I see no sight of the other group ahead of us, just lots and lots of mountain, and some dark clouds ahead of us. We might meet Cassian as the storm arrives to meet us. I shiver at the thought of what might have happened to me if I was still out alone in that kind of weather. It’s almost cold enough to snow, if I had still been looking for game in that poor excuse for clothes, no real shelter to be had, I’d be dead. It still hits me like a slap to think that Tam left me out here, knowing I could die, knowing I wasn’t prepared to make it on my own.
“How do you feel today?” It’s not the first time I wonder if he can hear my thoughts somehow. He always seems to know when they turn to Tamlin.
“My head feels like it’s full of cotton,” I say truthfully. “But it is better than yesterday.”
He twists to find the waterskin and passes it to me. “It might feel like that for a while.”
I subconsciously bring my fingers up to rub my temples. “Suppose it’s better than clawing at my skin all day.”
“It will help if you keep practicing,” he assures. “The more you get comfortable with it, the less energy you will have to put in expelling it. It will come out naturally and it will hurt less.”
I think the bones in my fingers might snap in half if I keep trying to summon claws after yesterday. 
He stops warding long enough to cup my hands together in my lap. “Just practice making those flowers, like last night. No shapeshifting on Midnight, he doesn’t like having fangs near his neck.”
“Your horse’s name is Midnight?” I can’t help the laugh that slips out of me. Death Incarnate rides a horse that sounds like it got its name from a child! It’s so very un-Warlord like of him that I can’t help but smile.
“He was born at Midnight, so his name is Midnight,” Rhys counters and Midnight huffs in what sounds like agreement.
“Oh of course, I was just expecting something… more intimidating, I guess.”
Midnight shakes his mane in a way that looks to me like I’ve insulted him and I run an apologetic hand over his silk smooth neck. 
“It’s intimidating,” Rhys insists.
“It’s cute,” I amend.
He huffs as he leans his chin down against my shoulder, hand leaving mine to resume his stitching. “I was ten, it sounded cool to a ten year old.”
I try to picture a scruffy haired ten year old Rhys, but come up empty. “Even cuter!”
“Hush, you’ll ruin my reputation,” he warns, nipping playfully at the juncture of my throat and shoulder. 
“Your reputation is safe with me,” I swear.
He chuckles at that, but as my focus shifts to practicing like he suggested, he once again slips back into silence. His shadows drift lazily over my arms and wrists as I practice, as if watching my progress. Sometimes they brush soothingly over my shaking wrists, or rub circles into my palms when the tension becomes too much, but Rhys says nothing for hours.
The storm on the horizon continues to drift closer, the temperature dropping the further into the mountains we go. When I start to shiver, he draws his cloak around the two of us, and tucks himself a little tighter around me to share the blissful warmth of his body heat, but even then he says nothing. 
Worry once again worms its way into my chest. Is he hurt? Did I do something wrong yesterday? Did he somehow figure out what I’d done?
I worry my lower lip between my teeth to avoid him seeing me wringing my hands the longer this drags on. We don’t stop for lunch, only for a brief period to let the horses drink from a small stream, and not even long enough for us to dismount and stretch our legs. It’s a quick drink and then we’re right back to it. The men seem pleased with this, the less stops mean the sooner we reach the rendezvous point and beat Cassian. If any of them think something is amiss with Rhys, they don’t voice it.
It comes to a point that I try to catch Azriel’s eye to see if the other male notices anything off with his warlord, but Rhys keeps us steadily ahead of the others, leading the way into the coming storm. 
The wind beats relentlessly at us now, I have to shield my eyes by tucking my head inside Rhy’s cloak. Still, Rhys doesn’t slow, even if I hear the heavy rasp of his breathing beneath his chestplate the harder he pushes. 
By nightfall, lightning streaks across the sky in angry slashes, thunder echoing off the mountain tops. I can smell the rain on the wind, though trouble finds us first when a lightning strike hits the side of the mountain and a rush of boulders and debris come raining down on our heads. 
Rhys’s magic flares in a protective shield above our heads, sheltering us from the worst of it, and once he’s sure everyone is unscathed, he presses on. 
Still, none of the men protest. Not even when the rain finally comes. It beats down on us like thousands of icy needles, pelting relentlessly against every bit of exposed skin it can find. Rhys’ cloak protects us from the worst of it, but even for all its magic properties, it can’t keep the rain from sliding down into our boots. 
I try not to complain. I’ve been through worse. But my teeth are chattering and I’ve done my best to curl up into his chest to try and preserve any bit of body heat I might have left. “Rhys, are we going to stop soon?”
I’m not sure at first that he can hear me over the rain, but his body shifts, an arm wrapping around my waist and then Midnight is moving faster, uphill. A few minutes later, the rain stops. Well, not stops, I can still hear it, but it no longer beats against us. 
He slides off the horse and I hear the wet thwack of his boots against stone before he hauls me down onto the ground next to him. I don’t know how he’s not shivering, he’s as soaked as I am.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, pressing a damp kiss to my forehead. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
We’re in a large cave carved into the mountain. It’s cold and damp and so dark I can barely see, but it’s not raining on us any longer so I’ll take it. The rest of the men file in behind us, proving the size is bigger than I can make out in the dark. 
“Az, get a fire going,” Rhys orders. 
“This the spot we’re meeting the others?” One of the men asks.
“It’s up the ridge,” Rhys returns as he pulls off his gloves and shoves them in his pocket so he can help rub some warmth back into my fingers. “I’ll finish it in a moment.”
He brings my hands up to his lips and as Azriel gets a fire going with some debris littering the cave, I get the first real look of him all day. “I’m sorry, Darling,” his eyes are rimmed with dark circles and bloodshot, face pale. “I’m sorry.” He keeps repeating it even as he kisses my knuckles, more like he’s talking to himself than me and my chest cracks open a little more.
“It’s ok,” my teeth are still chattering. 
Some of the men find the wood they’ve kept wrapped and dry and get the fire growing, but Rhys pulls me farther into the dark, deft fingers unlacing my chestpiece, the leather sticking to my damp skin. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispers again and even though he’s still brushing his lips against my forehead while he works, I don’t feel like he’s seeing me at all. He’s far, far away from me, body moving on instinct and I reach out to touch his face.
“Hey, I’m ok,” I promise.
But he won’t stop moving, not until he’s completely stripped me of all my wet clothes and found something dry to slip me into in his pack. They’re all way too big for me, but they're dry and I can’t make any complaints about it. 
“Was distracted,” he mutters to himself, hands pulling my damp hair off my neck and into a swift braid. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m ok, Rhys,” I assure. Some warmth already returning to my stiff limbs.
He still doesn’t hear me as he leads me back over to where a roaring fire now blooms in the heart of the cave. A few of the men stand around it, warming their hands, but the rest remain dutifully near their horses, waiting. 
Rhys throws a blanket around my shoulders as he helps me sit like I’m incapable of doing it on my own. At least all the supplies had been covered in waterproofing before we set out. Nothing has been ruined. Anything too soaked to be of use gets left draped over some rocks near the fire to dry out.
“Better?” His own wet clothes make a puddle around him as he kneels next to me, making sure I’m fully wrapped up in the blanket. 
“Better,” I confirm, and I mean it, the heat is delicious, warming the rock beneath us so that the chill is no longer seeping through my clothes. 
He leans in to kiss me gently on the lips, like I’m made of glass or something. “I’m sorry.”
I try to reach for his hand to assure him that I am fine, but he pulls away before I can. 
“Stay with her while I finish the wards,” he orders Azriel.
I drag my attention away from Rhys to look at the other Illyrian. The orange glow of the fire of the sharp planes of his face make him look like a primordial god. 
“You shouldn’t go alone,” Azriel returns, muscular arms crossed firmly over his chest.
Rhys huffs as he strides past him, “Stay. With. Her.” Then he’s back on his horse and riding back into the rain before anyone else can try and stop him. 
Azriel sends some of the men out with him before settling down next to me on the floor.
I don’t know Azriel well enough to start up a conversation, at least, rationally I know that. That doesn’t stop me from trying anyway. “Is he ok?”
Azriel throws his wet boots to the floor to dry out with a sigh. “Today’s a bad day.” His wings flair out behind him, shaking out water droplets that make the fire hiss and sputter.
I glance at the remaining men, who make themselves comfortable and busy doing anything other than sit near the two of us.  “What’s today?” 
Hazel eyes flick briefly to me, and I get the distinct impression he’s sizing me up, before he goes back to starring in the fire. “Feyre…”
Shit.
“She died five years ago today.”
I glance back towards the mouth of the cave, out into the rain, even though I can’t see him out there in the dark. 
“She…” Azriel throws another log into the fire with the energy of someone who just needs to be doing something with his hands. “She was pregnant. A boy. They’d just found out the gender.”
I don’t know what to say. The beast that lives caged beneath my skin howls and rages against my bones, like it might break free and rip through the pain I feel shred my soul at the realization of how deeply Amarantha had hurt him. My claws tear easily through my nail beds.
“He always gets like this on the anniversary,” Azriel continues. “Usually does some reckless shit and drinks himself half to death.” He too glances out the mouth of the cave. “Give him some space tonight, ok?”
I nod, not trusting my voice to speak. 
“He’ll need you in the morning. It’s usually worse the day after, when he wakes up and realizes…” he trails off.
“When he realizes she’s not coming back,” tears prick the corners of my eyes. How many mornings had I awoken, still anxious that my mother had wandered off while I slept, only to remember she was gone?
“Yeah.”
“Will you check on him, in a bit?” I tuck my head against my knees. 
“No,” Azriel replies. “If I leave you alone tonight…” he lets the words hang there, but I get the point. The look in Rhys’ eyes earlier was clear enough. If he thought for even a second that I was in danger tonight, after what he’d already lost, he might just tear the whole world apart.
I pull the blanket tighter around myself and lean back against a boulder, trying to get comfortable. I’ll just have to wait up for him then. He has to come back eventually, right? He’s not so distracted by the date that he’d stay up in the rain all night, would he?
Azriel brings some food out for me a little while later, and some of the men start playing card games to pass the time. We don’t speak any more after that though, the silence only broken by the pounding of the rain against the mouth of the cave. I barely have the stomach to eat anything, I just keep staring at the entrance, waiting.
Today isn’t the day to ask him why he chose me. Tomorrow won’t be either. That’s ok. For whatever reason, it doesn’t feel like it matters right now. He needs me. I’ll be here. Whatever the reason fate brought us together, whatever either of us intended to do, tonight it’s irrelevant. Tonight I don’t want to think about all the trouble behind me. I just want to be here for him, like he has been for me. 
The hours start to tick by. Some of the men unfurl their sleep mats around the fire and drift off. Azriel sits dutifully beside me, spinning his dagger in his hands, only getting up every now and then to feed the fire. Rhys still doesn’t return. 
My fingers drift absently to my chest, to that spot where I sometimes feel that thing that ties me to Rhys. I don’t know that it’s really a bond, it seems cruel that the Mother would tie me to him when he deserves someone better than me, but tonight I hope that it is something. I push on it, hoping that there’s another end where he can feel me. An end that tells him I’m here if he needs me, if he wants me. I can’t replace her. Or what he’s lost. I won’t even begin to try, but if he wants me, I will be here, waiting.
“You should get some sleep,” Azriel says after a while.
I shift my position to be a little closer to the fire. “No.” I don’t need to explain myself, so I won’t try.
An hour past midnight, horses come into view through the downpour. As I sit up, hopeful that he’s finally back, Cassian dismounts from a horse covered in mud. Mor follows, barely conscious, her rain slicked hair plastered to her face. She yawns as she stumbles over to the fire, and strips right there in front of everyone, her wet clothes hitting the floor with a thwack. 
I don’t miss the way Azriel quickly looks away from her. 
Cassian only chuckles as he throws a fresh pair of clothes at her. 
Once she’s changed and holding her own blanket, she settles down next to me with a grin. “Guess you guys win this time around!”
“Yeah,” the words come out of me absently, my gaze still fixed over her shoulder, trying to see past Cassian and the rest of his men as they file in. 
Azriel stands to help them light a second fire, further blocking my view. 
“He was right behind us,” Mor assures, following my gaze. 
I find myself biting my lower lip again as my gaze jumps from one male to the next. Where is he? He should be back by now! But none of the faces that slowly come into view as Azriel gets the fire going is the one I want to see. 
My lip is bleeding from how much I’ve been biting on it tonight; I move to start biting at my nail instead. He shouldn’t be out there this long! Azriel says he gets reckless, did he do something stupid? What if he’s hurt?
Mor reaches out to grab my wrist and only then do I realize how deeply I’ve been digging my knuckles into the knot that’s been steadily forming in my chest. Her eyes are gentle as she pulls my hand away. “We weren’t followed, he’s fine.”
The beast beneath my skin snaps and growls. He’s not fine! He’s alone out there in the cold and rain, in pain and I can’t shake the feeling that he needs me… but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it.
“He shouldn’t be alone.”
She glances over to Azriel and Cassian before looking back to me. “Trust me, he wants to be. Just give him space.”
The minutes drag on for eternity. Mor lays down next to me and drifts off almost immediately. I’m so restless I’m about to start pacing. I might have actually gotten up and done it if Azriel’s disapproving gaze didn’t land on me the moment I tried to stand back up. Bastard!
It’s probably no time at all before Midnight finally comes riding through the rain into the mouth of the cave, but it feels like eternity, as if I’d been holding my breath the whole night. The knot in my chest loosens as Rhys jumps out of the saddle and finds some scraps of cloth to dry the horse off with. 
His cloak is still drying across the fire, his clothes now sopping wet. Every move he makes leaves a puddle behind him. The strands of his dark hair have slipped free from the knot he’d tied them in, the long locks now clinging to his face. It takes everything in me not to get up and push them out of his way for him. 
He strips down to his boxers quickly, tossing his ruined clothes somewhere behind him carelessly. The glow of the fire makes the circles under his eyes darker as he snags a wineskin from one of the men. 
I watch as Cassian tries to make a joke, but Rhys just huffs at him as he pushes his hair out of his face and takes a long drink from the skin. 
I’ve waited all this time to make sure he’s ok, but now that he’s back I don’t know what to do. Azriel told me to stay away tonight, and by the looks of it, he’s following his own advice as he finally retrieves his mat and lays down near the entrance of the cave. Cassian hovers for a few minutes, trying to make conversation, but Rhys just keeps drinking and ignoring him, his gaze lost in the flames. Eventually he gives up and gets his own mat ready for bed. 
I wait, watching as Rhys finally sits down in front of the other fire, the light glistening off his damp skin. The shadows trace his tattoos like I often find myself wishing to do with my fingers. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I’m supposed to make this better for him. But when my world fell apart, he’d come and held me, so maybe he needs that too?
I swallow the lump in my throat as I finally stand, dragging the blanket with me. 
For once, Rhys doesn’t seem to notice me, eyes still locked in the flames as he brings the skin to his lips and drinks again and again and again. 
I should be afraid of him. All the males in my life were violent drunks. The scars on my side are a testament to that. Rhys is stronger than all of them, and I have no idea what he’s like drunk. But I only feel trepidation because I don’t want to make his pain worse, not because I think he’ll hurt me. I don’t think he’s capable of that.
I take the blanket off my shoulders and drape it around his, careful of where his damp wings drape across the floor. Only then does he glance up at me, his eyes glassy. Wordlessly, his hand brushes over mine, barely holding on, just enough to give me a little tug, asking me to sit. For a moment, I just sit next to him under the shared blanket, but his skin is so cold! He’s not shaking only because he’s had enough to drink to keep him from noticing.
Damn me, and the stupid thing that lives in my chest that feels like it’s breaking from my inability to fix this. I’d thought what I was feeling might be pity at first, but now… now I can’t help but think I manifested this somehow, when I asked him all those days ago if he would show me how to be a good mate. 
I had spent most of my life wishing this kind of pain on him. I’ve gotten what I wanted and I hate every bit of it. This isn’t what  I want at all!
Slowly, unsure of myself, I twist so I can wrap my arms around his waist. At the very least, my body heat might keep him warm. He stills under my grip, body rigid. Maybe this was the wrong move, maybe Azriel was right and I should have stayed away.
“What are you doing, mate?” He whispers in my ear, voice slurring.
I tuck my head against his bare chest. “Want to hold you.”
“Why?” His hands shake as they trail down my spine. 
“You’re sad.” That’s an understatement, but I don’t know how else to put it. “I’m not very good at this comforting thing, you know? But you’ve held me when I’ve been sad so I thought, maybe, you would want that too.”
He goes quiet for a bit and I think maybe I’ve lost him to the horrors that plague his mind again, but then he tosses the wineskin to the floor and rolls us both onto our sides on the rough stone ground. The stone is uncomfortable without a mat, but he shifts so his arm is beneath my head, and glides my leg up over his hip so we’re chest to chest. I’m not sure how warm he’ll be with the fire at my back, but I hope my body heat will transfer to him well enough. 
“You didn’t have to stay up for me,” he says.
I gently trace my fingers over the swirls of ink on his chest. “I know, but I wanted to. I didn’t want you to be alone.”
He nuzzles his face against mine. “Will you stay with me?”
“For as long as you need,” I assure.
His wing comes up to cover us, but he doesn’t close his eyes, fingers drawing lazy shapes against my back. 
“You should sleep,” I try but he shakes his head.
“Not tonight.”
I wonder if he sees what he’s lost as clearly as I do in my dreams, but it feels like a bad time to ask. No need to further dredge up those awful memories. 
“You said you used to tell your mother stories,” he says, the firelight dancing over his face. “Will you tell me one?”
It is an easy rhythm to fall into, as easy as breathing. The words spill out of me, the tale weaving itself along with the tempo of the crackling wood and the pouring rain around us. I tell story after story about the nymphs and the dryads, in a world long before Hybern and Amarantha, long before war tore our people apart. I talk until the fire starts to die, and the rain becomes a dull thud against the rocks outside; until the words become as heavy as my eyes. He never says anything during my tales, but he never closes his eyes either, hands still wandering absently up my back. The gesture more soothing than he realizes, I don’t think anyone had ever held me like this. My eyes droop despite my best efforts, words starting to slur.
“You should sleep,” he says.
“Don’t want to leave you alone,” I confess, but my eyes are so, so heavy. The strain of the last few days still weighs on me. 
My vision is blurry, sleep pulling on the edge of my consciousness, so it has to be a trick of the light that I see tears in his violet eyes.
He buries his head in the crook of my neck, breath stuttering out of him, and I realize that it’s no trick. Not when I can feel the damp stain across my sleeve. He muffles a sob in my shirt, the dull thundering of the rain enough to cover the rest. My fingers move instinctively into his hair, brushing through the tangled strands., my senses once again alert and awake.
The knot in my chest aches so deeply I think it might keep me awake for days.
“I wasn’t fast enough,” he whimpers. 
Gods, how many times had I whispered that very thing into the dark, rocking myself to sleep, trying to soothe myself with all the possible ways I could have saved my parents, even when I knew it was futile? 
“There was nothing you could have done.” That’s what you’re supposed to say, right? It sounds right. Sounds like what I wanted someone to tell me when I spiraled down into the depths of my depression. 
“It should have been me,” he sobs.
I draw him tighter against me. If I had any way to draw that pain out of his chest and take it into my own I would. I’d do anything, offer any distraction, sacrifice any plan, to take that burden off my mate.
The world feels like it zeroes in to that one, particular point.
My mate.
Of all the godsdamned times for it to click into place, for him to be right, it had to be here, in this damp cave when I have no idea how to make any of this better. I’m out of my element, in more ways than one.
“You…” I’m having a hard time breathing around the knot in my chest--no, the tether in my chest, all jumbled and tangled by all the fucked up stuff between us, but a tether none the less. “You can’t think like that.”
“You don’t understand-” he growls into my throat, but I cut him off, “Yes, I do. I do understand what it feels like to have the people you love ripped from you.”
His body stills under my hands again.
“I understand the emptiness, the loneliness, how… dark and cold and fucking brutal the aftermath is because there is suddenly no one there to tell you that it’s not your fault. There’s no one to assure you that they would want you to live and not carry the weight of it on your shoulders every godsdamned day.”
He slowly tilts his head back to look at me, his face tear streaked. I move my hand out of his hair to brush some of it off his cheek. “No one can replace what you lost.”
Slowly, he leans his head into my touch. “And I’m so sorry that you’ve lost so much.”
It’s unfair that one person should have to lose so many of the people that he loves; looking at him, I can’t believe how close I was to bringing even more pain into his life. If I had succeeded… gods I would have been worse than my father!
“But I have to believe that you are still here for a reason.” He should get to have a life! Whatever that costs me, he’s more than earned it. “Even if you haven’t found that reason yet.”
Rhys leans back down against my shoulder with a sigh that makes his wings shake. “It’s so heavy,” he whispers.
My hands go back to his hair, working through the knots the rain has created. “Show me how to help you carry it?”
His wing comes back over me again, his weight now fully on me. Somehow, it feels like that helps the tether linking us together settle. The ache… soothed, just a bit. I drift my hands from his hair down his back, careful to avoid his wings, soothing over hard muscle, until his breathing stops feeling so shaky. 
“Distract me,” he whispers.
“Whatever you need, Rhys, I’m here,” and I mean it.
“Tell me another story?”
“As many as you like,” I promise. It’s the least I can do, for my mate. I shove all the fear and uncertainty the word brings to mind into a quaint little box in the back of my mind; bury it under layers of emotional damage I’ve never dealt with and refuse to let my thoughts run away with me. I will figure it out tomorrow. I will find a way to make sure I don’t become another scar on his heart. He can’t ever know what I planned to do… it would ruin him.
And I wouldn’t survive it.
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Thank you all for your patience! <3 I'm trying to get back on schedule with this!
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lipt-97 · 11 months ago
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came back just to post these. okay bye
#gbf#belifaa#did you get triple zero (summon)? the sanfaa scissoring summon? SSS? i sierotixed it. It was awesome. Everythung in gbf is going right for#e except for the fact that i had to sieroticket it but its alright. just the notion of so much lucilius is just enough to put me back on my#feet again it’s almsot unreal how much lucilius-centric stuff theyve pushed out the past few months. his GBVSR debut. his summon.#Omg when I saw the gbfes fashion show i was a few seconds behind zen and she told me “You wont believe this” and I was like “WHAT? BELIEVE#WHAT? WHAT? WHAYT DO YOU MEAN” and the official lucilius cosplayer walked out in his robes it felt unreal unreal like it was seeing my onl#dreams come true after years and years of being like Theres no way they’d do that. There’s no way they’d make a cosplay for lucilius in his#robes because hes in his void outfit forever. BUT THEY DID…..AND THERE WAS BLOOD UNDER HIS SKIN….AND HIS LIPS WERE GLOSSED…AND HE HAD A LIT#LE BIT OF TAREME AND TSURIME (TARIME) ACTION ON HIS EYES AND EVERYTIME HE WALKED HIS ROBES KIND OF FLUTTERED AS HE SHUFFLED ALONG I HAD TO#SIT ON THE BATHROOM FLOOR lay down on the bathroom floor and I almpst puked from how nauseous it made me i was OVERJOYED BEYOND MY PHYSICAL#LIMITATIONS OF HAPPINESS . I WAS SO HAPPY. THIS YEAR HAS BEEN UTTERLY MISERABLE FOR ME AND I HAVE NOT BEEN THIS DEPRESSED SINCE HIGH SCHOOL#BUT SEEING LUCILIUS like this genuinely blew me off my socks . I don’t know if i should be 100% thankful because I’ve been trying to figure#out how to balance my emotional state with the media i consume but#I think i really needed it. thank you lucilius for ending my 2023
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nyxofdemons · 9 months ago
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“one day im going to have to make like a three hour long video essay that's just called In Defense of Helluva Boss” Please do. I see more anti videos than I do with defense ones. Like the ones that say season 2 is terrible even though it’s barely completed and the ones that say Stolitz is a bad despite them barely having a relationship.
no literally i am sick of seeing more anti content than actual appreciation videos but the anti talking point i see most that drives me up the fucking walls is that it's "bAd RePrEsEnTaTiOn," as if that is all that queer people are allowed to have; just the vague nebulous concept of "Rep(TM)." the fact that if a straight character is a bad person then it's just that This Character is a bad person, but if a queer character is a bad person then This Is Bad Representation Of The Community And Is Homophobic. can we not just HAVE characters?? vehicles to tell a story??? tools to craft a compelling narrative??? this is part of why Helluva/Hazbin being adult shows is such a THING because i see this get shut down a lot under the guise of "uhh well just because it's an adult show doesn't mean that it can handle whatever topic it wants however it wants" and like. yeah buddy! that's true! and that's not what this is fucking about!! when people say "it's an adult show" what they mean is that it's made to be engaged with under the assumption that you would know better than to take information to shape your worldview and perception of other real life people from a fucking cartoon! the show doesn't NEED to tell you that Um Hey Guys Just So You Know This Isn't Actually Meant To Reflect How All Real Life Gay Relationships Are because you are an adult who should already be able to discern this.
"bad rep" doesn't mean "characters that are nuanced, morally gray, or just bad people." "bad rep" would be if helluva boss was a show that said "the REASON these characters are in toxic relationships / are bad people is BECAUSE they are queer, or at least directly correlated to that fact." which is. you know. very fucking different than "these characters are in toxic relationships / are bad people because they 1) live in a classist society that actively encourages them to be their worst selves and 2) are extremely traumatized."
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edwinisms · 3 months ago
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genuinely it’s this kinda shit that makes me seriously question my existence as a film major, specifically one focused on screenwriting for television. like it’s such a disgustingly hostile environment for any creators and just seems like an industry that gets progressively harder and more painful to participate in. why am I even doing this if whatever I may end up putting my time and effort and soul into will probably end up spat on and tossed out (if it even miraculously gets picked up by one of the handful of big malicious streaming entities that control what is and isn’t produced and seen in the first place). it’s either 1) don’t make any money and be doomed to have a second job forever, or 2) be subject to the torment and humiliation of the streaming service empire for eternity. that’s the state of show creation right now and it actually makes me sick and I just hope one day soon everyone gets tired enough of this status quo to shift the norm of how shows get produced back to a state where shows don’t require the permission of streaming services and other big corporate entities to exist and continue existing. that’s the only thing that’d make me feel like I have a real future in my own field.
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sleeve-sleeve · 8 months ago
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ok first murder drones now spooky month depression
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selfinflictedgunshotwound · 3 months ago
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i'm kind of amazed how most of the stardew marriage candidates just want you to be their manic pixie dream whatever by agreeing with everything they like and plying them with compliments or praise or whatever (which is fine but a bit. Much) but for shane his romance is just you being there for him while he figures his own shit out... dunno why i never wanted to romance him before he's so good
#i'm usually a sebastian kinda guy but i do think it's silly you have to say you like scifi to gain friendship points w him like cmon man#i will say though that. my bestie's baby daddy being named shane kinda does make it hard to like him 😭 unfortunate but not his fault#ik a lot of ppl are weird abt his recovery and his messy ass room bc they play stardew to make things look pretty or whatever#but i'm actually kind of glad he's a realistic depiction of addiction... the problem is his dependence on indulging in alcohol when he's#depressed not the fact that he drinks period... i think that a lot of ppl are unrealistic abt alcoholism (including me abt my dad's)#but concernedape did really good w him imo. anyways all this to say that i'm really glad shane never expects someone to be a certain way#i know most of the candidates are like. archetypes or whatever and i think that's fine they are very sweet and cute regardless but#i think maybe i didnt romance him before bc i related to him so badly that it hurt seeing myself reflected LMAO dead end life and being#suicidal about it like. i've never had a drug dependence but i'm not really in a position where i can ever make my own decisions anyways#but regardless. there is smth to someone who slowly warms up to you when they can't ignore your kindness any longer and have no reason to#act like an abused dog anymore which. does make me sad just to say but that is how he acts beforehand#idkkkkk idk i think people are always too caught up with his addiction and his messy room to actually see him without realizing that#getting better is a lot harder than it appears and that having a dirty room doesn't mean you aren't trying to be better. sigh#besides it's not like. the end of the world that he has a beer sometimes. have you tried going thru life completely sober? it sucks#ok im done LMAO but yeah i've found myself gravitating towards him this time around when i've romanced sebastian literally every playthru#til now. hmm!#ACTUALLY ONE MORE THING. i like how he's basically a twist on the classic useless husband trope in media where they love sports and drinking#but he's not a bad person and the only reason he's mean to you at first is because he hates himself and his own life and he makes an effort#the more you get close to him instead of the opposite. i like that a lot. ok now i'm done
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quixot1sm · 1 year ago
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i think, and this may just be my zekrom bias speaking, that if someone wants to experience the full value of bw's story it's better to play through white first. black has the issue of coming off as very dismissive towards plasma's legitimate and well-founded claims that pokemon abuse DOES occur (and it does! from the kanto games' marowak to bw2's liepard there's instances where it's put in the spotlight, so it certainly does happen)... by assigning the protagonist to truth, it feels pretty evident that n's beliefs are "wrong", and the game just seems to brush any questioning aside.
on the other hand, white giving n the hero of truth role means we're basically forced to think about what that means for the relationship of people and pokemon at large. to translate a point n makes in chargestone cave: if you allow people to coexist with pokemon, even if the majority of trainers treat them well, there will always be someone somewhere out there who abuses or neglects them instead. are we okay with that? should those pokemon still be allowed to suffer, just because what they experience is an outlier to the general rule? while not outright stated, zekrom's association with hope and the strive for the ideal suggests that we don't brush off these facts, but instead take them into consideration, and aim to change the world based off of them... like how in bw2 society in unova puts a lot more emphasis on the bond between people and pokemon, and on pokemon as equals (see: iris's dialogue before entering your team info the hall of fame).
i think black version has its own unique avenues to explore, but on the surface level, it's a much more cut and dry, "no, you're just wrong", type of story that kind of makes you work harder to fit it into bw's overall theming of "the world's not black and white, there's not a singular objective right or wrong perspective."
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salty-dracon · 8 months ago
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also they gotta stop giving these quirky 18 year olds guns. there's literally nothing quirky about the military. let them be silly on tiktok or something
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whenthegoldrays · 5 months ago
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also, my god, Choi Se Kyeong, what a horrible thing to say to your daughter when her best friend just committed suicide???
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phagodyke · 6 months ago
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ykw actually I am angry + disappointed w them. I've been pushing how I feel aside and trying to make it my own fault so it's all contained but I think theyve just been mean. and they really should know me better ik I try to pretend I don't expect more from them so I feel less hurt when they do things that upset me but we've been friends for years by this point. like come on.
#just got home and went to put my shit away but my flatmate was in the kitchen and i got suddenly so mad i had to walk back out#not going to do or say anything while im this upset. i need to be a lot calmer before i can even be in the same room as her#like okay. so originally it was just the two of them getting drinks and theyd rather it was just them bc i dont drink. thats cool#it wouldve been difficult for me to join them after work bc travel. and ik theyd done this before just the 2 of them and had fun#i can fully respect that its why i said no and stuck by that decision when she asked again#but to not mention she was taking the day off work and btw i just found out that BOTH of our other old flatmates joined in too#to not mention that they were travelling that entire distance and that it wasnt just drinks it was a whole day out together#thats just mean. why wouldnt you tell me that why did none of them say anything.#and the fact they did the exact same fucking thing last weekend too i didnt know about that at all#like i need to stop trying to justify it. im allowed to feel unwanted and excluded bc thats exactly what theyre doing.#im tired of feeling like other people dont want me around. i know i can be difficult and annoying sometimes. but im really not that bad#and we're meant to be friends!!!!!! like youre supposed to like your friends. and want to spend time with them. or at least i do#and yeah everyones annoying sometimes thats just part of being alive ur supposed to tolerate it if ur friends#im allowed to want to feel like im wanted. im allowed to want ppl to care abt me. that shouldnt be too much to ask for#but the overwhelming message im getting at the moment is they dont want me around. and when i am around them i feel like they dont listen#to me and that they dont really care how i feel unless it directly involves them or theyre responsible for it#i feel like they dont see me as a real person that exists. only a version they have in their heads and they base all their assumptions and#decisions off that version instead of directly communicating with me. and constantly avoid me under the guise of 'giving me space'#when im upset or having a difficult time and most need support from other people. i just feel really unseen#and ik that part of how i feel IS exacerbated by insecurity and depression. like they do care to some degree#but also a lot of it is evidenced in the way they act towards me. mainly my roommate bc shes the person i interact with most#and personally i find the most direct ways of showing u care abt someone are showing up for them. and making them feel seen#and maybe not everyone feels the same way. but thats how it works for me anyway#so to repeatedly exclude me and avoid acknowledging that ive been having a difficult time is the opposite of that to me#which is the point im trying to arrive at... sorry ik ive probably said similar things repeatedly the last few weeks but i feel like its#crystallising a bit like this is the core reason why im so sensitive and reactive atm and why i got so upset by it#idk. not tonight bc im still very emotionally raw but maybe tomorrow if im calmer i should explain that i was upset + why to her#i avoid doing that so often when im upset bc i dont think theres much point in having a conversation abt it unless u expect some kind of#resolution from it. or if you want an apology but idrc abt being apologised to the crucial thing is what theyre going to do different#and i love her but shes very resistant to changing her behaviour bc of other ppl being upset by it. and like i said before she has
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featherymainffins · 8 months ago
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You know what at this point I feel like maybe I just need to either get institutionalised again or start an internship again because I feel like I am getting nothing.
#sorry after going down a rabbit hole i realised that there are a lot of very vague things wrong with most of my characters#and that perhaps i should make. less vague things wrong with them.#like more specific things#and i understand the theory of a lot of conditions but that doesnt mean anything#thats jackshit#and naturally in my life i have met a lot of people with various conditions bu the sample is still fairly limited#ive met people with OCD; with various anxiety disorders; people with various eating disorder; i live with one ed myself; ive met#people with schizophrenia both treated and untreated; ive met people with bipolar; ive met people with schizoaffective;#ive met people in a state of active psychotic episode; ive met people DID and OSDD; ive met people with PTSD;#ive met people with cluster C PDs and people who have BPD like me and ive met exactly one (1) person with NPD (about whom#docs arent fully sure yet)#but thats all. and its like. cool. ok. no idea about cluster A except for me (STPD) and no idea about the lived realities of the rest of#cluster B and no idea about some forms of depression and no idea about a lot of things. so its like. cool. i sure love not knowing.#its like. ok. do i have to get locked up again to meet new kinds of people or?#the thing is that probably wouldnt help i can tell you right here right now thered be like uuuuuh 50 % ED recovery people;#25 % affective disorders; including like one bipolar person probably; 15 % OCD patients and 10 % of undiagnosed people#sent there for a diagnosis#thats actually literally the average population of a psych ward. been there three times happens every time#i mean im exaggerating but you get me
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keirametzbrassknuckles · 9 months ago
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Living with someone who subsists on a diet of cigarettes and nothing else if left to their own devices means you occasionally must wear the hat of beast tamer in your own house
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mintaka-iii · 1 year ago
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My mental health can't possibly good if an essay on the found family trope gives me such an indescribable feeling of hollowness and yearning
#Generally I know things are bad when some media is unbearable to consume#It's weird because I'm not overtly anxious and I'm less depression paralyzed than a few months ago#But I'm so terrified and hopeless about grad school applications that it's affecting my whole psyche#Even though it's not even a problem in my current life#It's just unbearable to think about or work on and it has been for like two years#Which means it's kinda hard to make any kind of meaningful change that would make me LESS terrified and hopeless#So I don't FEEL anxious or ACT anxious but I'm scared to death and compartmentalizing it#Also I've been in this town where I know none of my friends for more than a year now and also it's so small and I'm so fucking lonely#I don't FEEL lonely like it's not acute and I'm calling and texting people really frequently#But then I never realize I miss my sister until I see her again#And I didn't know how much I missed seeing all my friends irl until I did#Exactly twice in the past year#So there's clearly multiple things fucked up in my subconscious and they're affecting me but I can't directly get a handle on them#Also I want nothing more than to get an astrophysics PhD but it's SO much more competitive than physics#Cause the programs are so small#So do I apply to what I want and increase my chances of being rejected AGAIN#Or do I try and write essays about being interested in something I'm not really#No matter which program I get into I can probably do work in the other in actuality#But I feel like I can't apply to a physics program and exclusively talk about all the faculty I want to work with one department over#And most places don't let you apply to both
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yuribalisms · 1 year ago
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Essentially what it is all boiling down to is I have fully realized I am bad at being a person, that will always be true, and I don’t know how to handle that
#I’m going to be depressing and self depreciating in the tags so. fair warning to anyone who reads them#I’ve known for a while now that I don’t know what to do with my life. I’ve thought of a few ideas but none of them seem to be working. and I#think a good chunk of what it’s boiling down to is that I am quite literally just stupid when it comes to an actual useful real life skills.#and it’s frustrating because I can’t even talk to ppl I know and confide in them that I feel dumb and stupid without them being like ‘nooooo#don’t say that! you’re not stupid! you were top of your class in hs!’ (that is their favorite thing to fall back on) but like. the thing is#I wasn’t even smart in hs. sure I did good but that’s because I cheated my way through and got lucky a lot. I never actually learned anythin#I never understood what I was being taught or how to apply it. I was good at English and art classes and that was it those were the only one#I truly felt I knew what I was doing in and grasped the subject matter well. I know I’m good at those two things and smart when it comes to#those subjects. but the thing is. in real life. both of those are useless skills. I can’t make money with them and it is highly unlikely#that will ever change. and yes I know not being able to make money with it doesn’t mean it’s useless but like it kinda does. capitalism#sucks. I know that. we all do. but that doesn’t change that we live in a capitalist society and it’s unlikely to actual change in my lifetim#so I’m stuck to try and figure out how to live in it. but I have no skills I can make money with so I will live my entire life poor and#miserable and working dead end jobs that make me want to kill myself. I’m not good at socialization I’m so fucking bad at it so I can’t work#any kind of job that hinges on networking or sales or human interaction which is MOST JOBS but I’m also too stupid for anything related to#STEM. I tried two different stem degrees and flunked out of both of them because I am a FUCKING IDIOT and I know there’s no point in trying#to go back to school for another one. but no degree in anything I naturally have a knack for will help me find a decent well paying job. ill#just be wasting my money to go to school for something like that. and then like. I don’t even think I’ll ever get married and I def won’t#ever have kids. so I can’t even put any hopeful stock in just being happy with a family one day. I know a lot of ppl who don’t like their#careers but they’re fine with that because they’re happy with their family but like I don’t even have that and I won’t ever have that. I#have NOTHING to strive for and NOTHING I am good at that’s meaningful I’m going to fail at having a career and a family and I know that#doesn’t mean I won’t be happy in theory but by societal standards I am and always will be a fucking failure of a person and since I do live#in this society yeah. it’s kinda fucking true. and I don’t know what to do about that. I’m just tired. I’m tired of being afraid and#struggling and going through patches of wanting to kill myself because of this because like what’s the point. I’ll never have anything#better so what in the actual hell is the point of me existing. and I know I’m being ridiculous and my brain is eating itself and none of#this is probably even true but that doesn’t change that it FEELS like it is a lot of times and esp right now and I don’t know what to do#to anyone who reads this I’ll be fine tbh prob as soon as tomorrow like dw about it I just need to get it out so I stop stewing in it.#I’m just. yeah. not having a great time rn but I left work so I’m gonna cry and then maybe sleep for a bit and hope that helps#kaz rambles
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