i genuinely don't know where the fuck my life is going. not that i ever did in the first place, but.
my brain keeps eating me alive, and i'm too broke to fix my primary coping mechanism; i cant even set up a ko-fi for it because i have no fucking idea how much it'll cost to get it fixed.
im twenty five years old and i cant even find myself employed— i couldnt even stay employed because my first job fell out from under my feet and my second was too stressful. i also cant fucking drive and i have nobody to teach me
my clothes are literally falling apart at the seams and i cant afford to buy new ones.
i cant afford to help my friends whenever they themselves are stuck in a financial rut, or just because i want to buy them something nice.
it's fucking exhausting. when is it going to end?
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king baldwin iv x reader {“flowers of my love.”}
thinking about king baldwin iv again, and i have a personal (and also probably extremely ooc (pLEASE DONT COME FOR ME)) headcannon that he’s the type to gift you flowers;
dahlias and roses and stocks and orchids, camellias and amaryllis-es and hydeangeas and tulips, carnations and sunflowers and daisies.
his growing illness confines him to his chambers far too often, and, left alone in an aching solitude that baldwin thinks he should be used to now, he’ll read. and it’s through this - books upon books, pages upon pages, words upon words of so, so many stories he’ll never get to live through - that he discovers the language of flowers.
flowers for sadness, for fear, for anger, for hurt, for love- flowers for a whole language of feelings he doesn’t dare to confess to you.
so instead he leaves them in your chambers, the delicate things, (little confessions on their own) in silk cloth bouquets and pretty-necked vases, in twine-bound bunches and satin soft ribbons, never daring to give them to you in person.
(but, unbeknownst to him, you lovingly press them all.)
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metaphorically i get the removing taylor’s powers thing- and the fact that. yknow. its a good way to make sure she cant get into more trouble, her passenger cant get her into more trouble, and she doesnt draw attention to herself. and she would have!!! if she still had her powers she would keep causing problems!!! keep solving them!! find a new mission and keep Moving. its all neat and tidy, pulling out the rot, removing everything that isnt Taylor and letting her sew the pieces of herself back together. but. in my heart. bug girl cool.
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what do you do when the girl you spent the better part of the last decade in love with calls you up to tell you they dumped their girlfriend and quit their job and would you like to go spend a couple weeks on a beach in greece with them because they miss you and love you (not like that) . and you miss them and love them (not like that. anymore) and you’re probably not getting into grad school anyway and even if you did you can’t keep moving countries to start over because that doesn’t fix things and you could use the money you have saved that you were gonna put towards tuition to buy a plane ticket and sublet a beach villa instead. because you miss them and you love them and you’re tired of missing them and loving them has always felt good and you never feel good anymore and whatever maybe you can just have a lovely few weeks in fuckin greece and just. that’s enough you don’t have to try more than that they go back home and you stay on a beach in greece for as long as anyone else will remember . hypothetically. you should do that, right
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human contradiction
a symbolic piece of jet set radio art that is so mired in headcanon/au stuff that the symbolism has no basis in canon and its halfway to nonsense. this is a picture of Beat
i actually had this art sitting around in my files for like half a year because i felt, like, Embarrassed to post this. but life is too short not to embrace the ouroboros of hypfix bullshit and i also want it out of my to post folder
bwaah
i dont even remember why i drew a bwaah of the Purely Metaphorical Cabbit Beat. whatever. bwaah
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