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larkspyrr · 5 months

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chapter viii — deeper than the truth (wc. 4.1k)

prev — masterlist / ao3 — next

reblogs are appreciated!

NOTE: i made some changes to the last chapter bc im fickle and didn't like it lmfao. you can either reread for the new context or check the tldr i posted on ao3

You had been right about one thing — Wriothesley was not a stupid man.

He was not unaware of himself. It was this self-awareness that had been key to Wriothesley's ascent from the very bottom to the slightly-less-so — to making the most of his station, regardless of whatever Celestia-forsaken obstacles had been thrown into his path. That, and his dogged determination to get there, at any cost, even if he had to fight tooth and nail.

And, by the Archons, he was going to fight now.

He understood precisely what it was that propelled him forward as he rose to the overworld the morning after you left, fast enough that one might think the Abyss itself nipped at his ankles like an angry hound, snarling, snapping. He’d known for a while the name of the beast that curled around his ribs and squeezed , even if he hadn’t been brave enough to yet speak it aloud. He was afraid that to utter it would be to invite it in closer, ever closer, leaving no room in his chest even for breath, for the frantic thundering of his heart. No room for the inevitable break once your arrangement came to its conclusion and you went on toward your future and Wriothesley stayed exactly where he had been all along, fractured but trying to mend.

Maybe he should have named it. Maybe then you wouldn’t have walked away.

He’d known there was nothing more for him to do when you left; that to follow you out would only push you away further. So he had stayed, and plotted out the next course of action he would take, so long as he was able to bide his time until the morning—if what he'd gathered from vague correspondences in Paquette's office was correct.

Paquette was clever, that much could be said. He'd covered his tracks with an almost masterful finesse and it had been a challenge to glean so much as a date from what seemed like mostly mundane communications with Thibeault.

He was good, sure. But Wriothesley was better.

After you’d left, Wriothesley had waited, sleepless, and then allowed himself no more than the time required to dress and make the Fortress’ arrangements for the day before he fled his quarters, not even sparing the bronze doors to his office a passing thought as he blew by.

Wriothesley had never been one to stand down from a challenge, not even those who crash-landed into his life bedecked in pearls and lace and more spirit than he knew what to do with; witty, and kind, and dutiful to a fault; a fallen meteorite from somewhere else, somewhere more.

And Wriothesley would sooner dive into the Primordial Sea and become no more than a ripple in cold waters than let you march to your death. Before he allowed you to throw away your life for the sake of the people you cared about.

Before he let you go.

So he ran, and the hounds howled in his wake.

When he arrived at the stables, half-wild, muscles screaming, his heart nearly stopped its thrumming at the same moment his purposeful strides came to a halt. The sun hadn't even fully risen.

Lucy’s stall was already empty, neither the mare nor her rider anywhere to be seen.

“So she’s accepted the job?” asked Thibeault, bony fingers curling delicately around the handle of the fine china teacup he held — an imported piece from Liyue, hand-painted, and worth more than most of the working class in the Court of Fontaine would see in a year. Thibeault’s mouth was as straight a line as it ever was, but his eyes glittered with something that looked dangerously akin to delight.

As close to delight as a miserable bastard like Thibeault could achieve, as it were.

Paquette, by contrast, smiled; a luxury he didn’t often allow himself, as frugal and dignified a man as he was, but he postulated he could spare himself a moment of frivolity on the eve of his triumph without too great an impact on the perception of his unblemished decorum. A smile would not be remiss, not amidst the host of more secular pleasures he wreathed his lifestyle in; though if you asked Paquette, and you should, they were simply par for the course for a man of his rank, so long as his taste remained staunchly on the side of ‘classy’ and gave a wide berth to the realm of ‘gaudy’, a feat he was loathe to say still escaped some of the peerage—present company very much withstanding, he noted, observing the garish hue of magenta in the tie his companion donned, not an ounce of shame in sight.

Dreadful.

Paquette tutted quietly, sipping his own tea. A custom blend, catered to his very specific needs and preferences. He swallowed thickly. He’d send this one back, as he had the others.

They still hadn’t gotten it right. Clearly, they hadn’t heeded his generous advice that the best mint was grown on Kannazuka Island.

“But of course she did,” Paquette said, placing his cup down on the tea table between the gentlemen. “As I told you she would, my friend.”

Paquette fought back a sneer at the word on his mouth; a cheap lie, but one he had to maintain if he wanted to remain on good terms with the sniveling man across him. They didn’t need to like each other, per se, in order to work together toward a common goal, but he supposed their machinations were easier to architect if there was some degree of civility between them. It would make it much easier to coexist while they awaited their vision coming to fruition.

A vision so very in reach now. Paquette looked quite forward to the privilege of dispensing with the pleasantries and he imagined Thibeault felt much the same.

While Paquette had certainly become adept at maneuvering around the other members of the court over the decades, he certainly hadn’t grown to like it any more than he had at the start. Especially that old bat Vellerot, a man (loosely called) made of little more than wealth and rot.

All in good time.

Thibeault leaned back in his chair, folding two withered hands in front of his stomach, a self-satisfied gesture that might have been reminiscent of a well-fed house cat if he weren’t so serpentine. His lips curled, teeth bared, and Paquette started; it was a gesture far too vicious to ever be considered a proper smile, though it was an effort nonetheless, even if it was as tasteless as the rest of him. “Once she’s little more than a smear in the woods, the rest will become much simpler,” he mused, drumming his fingers against his abdomen, a rhythmic tap-tap-tap that made Paquette wonder if it was an unconscious gesture. An appalling lack of composure. “The old man hasn’t paid attention to the world beyond his cups in nigh on a decade, and the two younger ones haven’t got the intelligence nor the fortitude to accomplish anything at all. She would be the problem. One terrible accident and she’s gone. Then the old man drowns in his cups from ‘grief', at least as far as anyone is concerned.”

Paquette hummed. “It also takes that delinquent whelp out of the equation, what with all the sniffing around he’s been doing. He will be utterly shattered at the loss of his love, I’m sure. Might do something reckless.”

“I still can’t believe our luck on that front,” said Thibeault. “Two birds, one stone, as the commoners are known to say.”

“Tale as old as time,” agreed Paquette.

Thibeault grimaced again in that way which was so unlike a smile. Paquette fought against his every instinct telling him to pull back from the frankly upsetting expression.

“The Viscountcy has been wasted on him for far too long,” said Thibeault, and he sipped his tea.

Neuvillette stood at the edge of the bridge, his hands folded primly behind his back, chin tilted towards the rolling sea.

Wriothesley heaved a breath as he approached and the man turned his face towards him.

“Neuvillette.”

“Wriothesley,” said the other man, eyebrows rising ever-so-faintly in surprise and interest. “I wasn’t expecting you. You look flushed.”

“Went for a run,” Wriothesley panted. “Can I have a word?”

Something flickered in his eyes, but Neuvillette merely gestured his chin towards the Opera without a moment’s hesitation and made his way towards the structure. Wriothesley fell into step behind him easily, fighting every cell of his being that was telling him to rush the other man, to urge him to walk faster, Archons damn it all.

He bit his tongue, yet it seemed Neuvillette sensed Wriothesley’s urgency and picked up his pace nonetheless.

Finally, after an eternity and then some, they settled into Neuvillette’s office at the Epiclese; a smaller rendition of his office at the Palais, though no less elegant and organized. It was a bright space, walled in books and ornate masonry, bathed in the light that sparkled off the water just beyond the stained glass windows. It smelled like the sea and romaritimes; a light fragrance that Wriothesley had come to associate with the Iudex over many years of knowing him.

Neuvillette looked over at him from behind his desk, his face kind but eerily calm, a direct juxtaposition to Wriothesley’s own storming, blazing heart.

Wriothesley inhaled. Exhaled. “I’m sorry to impose but this is an emergency.”

“It’s no imposition,” Neuvillette said. “I am at your disposal.”

Wriothesley held the other man’s gaze. “Which Melusine Marechaussee Phantoms are off-duty today?”

You clicked your tongue and pulled, bringing Lucy to a halt just before the clearing Paquette had described came into view. You dismounted her, quickly hitching her to a nearby tree, tucked safely behind a dense thicket. She looked at you, ears pitched forward, eyes restless. You moved to pat her gently on the nose, but she tossed her head away from your touch. You frowned, letting your hand drop back to your side.

The last time she had rebuffed you like that, there had been a hilichurl hiding in a nearby tree.

You would be on your guard. This time, you had the element of surprise on your side.

You tried again, satisfied when Lucy allowed your pat this time, and moved onward alone. The sun was high in the sky, casting the upcoming smattering of tents a warm golden hue as they slowly came into view, a collection of brightly-colored headstones in an otherwise silent graveyard.

Immediately, you missed the rhythmic beat of Lucy’s hooves on the dirt as you entered the soundless clearing. Even the wind, forever a comfort at your back, seemed to hold its breath.

It was empty.

You surveyed the camp with careful eyes. Five tents, hastily constructed, flaps lowered to conceal the interiors of all but one — large, royal purple, dead-center. A table sat in view from within. A fire pit, lush with kindling and several freshly cut logs, though it appeared to never have been lit. A hitching post, though there wasn't a horse in sight. A weapons rack, battered but vacant.

You continued to inspect the area with growing unease.

But then, you saw it. In the purple tent, on the wide table. A folder.

The documents.

Emboldened by the silence of the deserted camp, you moved in.

You did not make it far.

You heard a twig snap from somewhere to your right, and you whirled, your heart leaping into your throat. Leaves rustled from all around, every corner of the clearing, and you heard the sharp crack of a slap, followed by hooves — Lucy’s hooves — barreling away into the wilderness, away and away, until you couldn’t hear her at all anymore.

Slowly, one by one, as though they were visions from a nightmare, men emerged from within the dense brush, cloaked in shadow, smiles jagged and cutting on the faces whose mouths weren’t clothed.

Your thoughts came to you rapid-fire, like bullets firing from a pistol.

An ambush.

They had known you were coming.

This was a trap.

Wriothesley had been right.

Your limbs shook. Your mind went foggy. Your fear was streaked with shafts of other emotions—regret, shame, resentment. Longing.

You shook your head to clear the haze, clenching your jaw, flexing your fists.

You didn’t have time to regret; you didn’t have time to wish.

You would get out of here. You had no other choice.

You had to get back to him.

But you were alone. They had known you were coming. Lucy had been scared off. No one was coming.

You were alone.

They began advancing.

Blades with wicked edges glinted in the afternoon sun as they emerged from the shade of the trees. You clutched at the hilt of your sword, savoring the tiny fraction of power you reclaimed at the feeling of the warm leather against your shaking fingers. Fingers that you found were getting increasingly difficult to control.

You fought to master your breath.

One man stepped ahead of the others, brandishing a razor-sharp rapier in your direction, your eyes following the way it swayed in his loose, unworried grip, light and free as wild barley. His eyes gleamed with profane delight from over the cloth secured around the lower half of his face. You didn’t need to see his mouth to know he was smiling.

“Right on time, my lady,” he sneered, voice reedy and meandering. You had never hated the honorific more. Several of the others snickered. “We’ve been expecting you.”

You met his gaze, willing yourself to maintain your composure as you assessed the situation—two, three, four Treasure Hoarders stood in the clearing with you. They didn’t appear to have any horses themselves; at least, not any that were nearby, so hijacking one to make a swift escape was not an option. It seemed all four men carried various swords; not a bow nor arrow in sight, but that could only help you, as you wouldn’t need to concern yourself with avoiding or deflecting ranged attacks while focusing on the close-quarters combat. On defending yourself from their blows. Looking for an opening to make an exit.

You unsheathed your sword, the metal hissing against the scabbard. You widened your stance, rolling your shoulders, willing your breathing to a slow, controlled pace.

Dozens of lessons swam through your mind and you fought to sort through your learning.

So many lessons. So little to show for it.

Wriothesley’s voice floated to the forefront, a memory as sharp and piercing as ice.

Don’t overthink it, he’d told you, over and over, lesson after lesson.

Muscle memory and instinct are your greatest ally.

Trust yourself.

You tensed, ready to trust yourself, to trust him , even if it was too late, to at least try —

Something slammed into your arm and side and you gasped, your sword clattering away across the rocks and into the thicket. Gone.

“Ah, ah, ah. I don’t think so,” sing-songed a new voice.

A low, feminine laugh warbled from over your shoulder and the four men echoed, reveled in the cruel mockery of it. You felt as though all the blood drained from your body. The edges of your vision darkened in panic, further blurring the tangle where your sword now lay, hidden. Out of reach.

Five. There had been five tents.

The woman slowly made her way around you, inching into your line of sight excruciatingly slowly, playfully, circling around you like a vulture circles its prey before it dives. Her eyes glittered, impish and hostile. She held an enormous claymore in her hands.

She opened her mouth to speak.

Don’t overthink. Trust yourself.

You lunged before she could utter a word.

Wriothesley hurried, urging the mare forward, faster, faster.

The Melusine in front of him froze, going stock still in her place on the saddle. Her shaggy, dusty rose hair whipped in the wind and she placed a tiny hand on Wriothesley’s wrist, drawing his attention to her.

There was another horse barreling through the woods, not far ahead. Chestnut, with an auburn coat. A familiar leather saddle.

A saddle which was empty.

Wriothesley wasn’t sure he remembered how to breathe. He pressed into the stirrups, signaling his mare to stop.

Lucy, in the distance, slowed her gallop, noticing the new arrivals; darted directly to them.

Trow frowned as the chestnut mare came to a sliding stop a mere few feet away, tossing her head and stomping, hoof to hoof, more agitated than Wriothesley had ever seen her. He hopped off the mare and went to her, checking her over for injuries or any sign of her rider. She seemed fine, if stressed. Nothing on her to indicate what might have happened to cause her separation from you.

“Your Grace,” Trow said abruptly, blue nose wrinkling. Her eyes flicked away from Lucy and towards the denser forest ahead, narrowing in concentration. “I smell something… just over there. Sweet, but bad. Like gasoline.”

Wriothesley’s stomach flipped. He looked ahead at the thicket, but beyond it was utterly silent. Unmoving. He could vaguely make out the trampled shrubbery from where Lucy had emerged. His hand felt heavier than stone against the side of Lucy’s quivering neck.

He flexed his fingers against her, scratching lightly. For her, for him.

“Wanna help me save our friend, Luce?” he asked softly.

Lucy, of course, said not a word; but whether or not she understood what Wriothesley was asking, her gentle brown eyes seemed to agree with the sentiment.

Wriothesley turned his gaze back to Trow.

“Can you ride?” he asked.

She hesitated before nodding shallowly. “I can get by, sir.”

“Go back,” Wriothesley said. “Notify Neuvillette of what’s happened and where we are. I will take it from here.”

Trow's look was long and searching and for a moment Wriothesley wondered whether she would protest his order. But then her worried lilac eyes softened and she nodded once more. Her tail flicked behind her. “Be safe, Your Grace.”

Wriothesley took the reins in-hand and quickly mounted Lucy. He gave the Melusine a small smile. “Thank you. You too.”

He didn't even have to signal for Lucy to go before she was off, hurtling back towards the trees.

Back to you.

Falling back on your months of training in the Pankration Ring was easier than breathing; particularly at the moment, when it seemed breathing had suddenly become very difficult.

You acted without thinking.

You shot forward, swiftly sweeping a leg out from beneath the prowling woman, sending her hurtling onto her ass before she could register you had even moved. She made an undignified squawk, throwing her arms out to try and save her fall, the claymore slamming into the ground, fanning dirt out around it.

The others burst into action, trying to ascertain the best way to subdue you, kill you, you didn’t know, it didn’t matter — you didn’t allow them even a second. You dove for the woman’s claymore, unclaimed at her side, your fingers closing soundly around the hilt before spinning to face your attackers, the new weight unfamiliar and unwieldy in your palm. You would adjust. You had no other choice.

The woman had clambered back to her feet, yanking a dagger from her boot with a vicious snarl that raised the hair on the back of your neck. A lock of dark hair had shaken loose from beneath her hood. Her eyes no longer held any trace of the violent glee they’d had a moment ago; searing rage was all that was reflected in them now.

The masked man dove, rapier swinging in a wide arc towards your side; you deflected it with ease, the clang of metal on metal ringing in your ears as the heft of the claymore easily intercepted the strike.

You adjusted your grip, the shift in weight causing your fingers to slide on the hilt.

Another lunged, sword pointed for your gut. You narrowly avoided impact, sidestepping on already unsteady feet and directly into the range of the woman, who was ready to pounce on your moment of imbalance.

Clearly, subduing you wasn’t part of their plans. And you were sorely outmatched.

You weren’t quick enough.

Swift as a viper, she lashed out, bronze dagger flashing in the sun the only warning you received before you felt its bite. She nicked your dominant wrist, loosening your grip on her claymore—your only weapon—

You dropped it, your hand disobeying your order to hold on as blood dripped down your trembling fingers from the wound on your wrist.

You wouldn’t walk away from this, you realized then, as the claymore fell. No level of skill would allow you to overcome this.

Fool. You were a fool. And you were about to die for it.

You scrambled for the claymore once more—

One of the men sent his boot hurtling into your side, throwing you off course and forcing all the air from your body.

You slammed down onto the rocks and curled in on yourself instinctively, defensively, tucking your legs into your chest before pushing yourself away, away from them; from the threat. You fought to catch your breath, but your lungs and throat burned like ice.

Your back hit the base of a wide tree and you could go no farther.

The woman gestured angrily at one of the men, who then yanked the claymore off the ground. She stalked over to your hunched form, eyebrows lowered.

She flipped the dagger in her hand and squatted before you.

“That’s enough,” she cooed, flicking the tip of the blade across the curve of your neck, softer than a kiss. You felt a sting followed by the feeling of—something warm collecting at the base of your throat. “This is pathetic. It's getting hard to watch.”

She swung her unarmed fist then, and the resulting impact on your head set your ears ringing and your vision blurry. You vaguely made out the sensation of...of being tied, restrained, bound at your wrists and ankles.

You thrashed, but you were too late. You could barely move. Your wrists burned as you pulled. Your head pounded. Your legs would not—could not—obey.

“Get the canister,” one of the men ordered, the words hitting your ears as though delayed—you felt like you couldn't keep up with the pounding in your skull. Another man disappeared into one of the tents, reemerging after a moment with an opaque container in hand.

Your nostrils flared at the familiar smell.

Gasoline.

The woman clicked her tongue, looking down on you. She wiped her dagger on a pant leg, smearing your blood onto the fabric. “Disposing of evidence. Those pesky Melusines. You understand.” Her voice was as casual as if she were discussing the weather or the latest play at the Epiclese. “You know, I had planned on killing you first ,” she explained evenly as the man sloshed the liquid from within the dark canister onto you. You gasped and recoiled, the liquid colder than you would have anticipated, overwhelming your senses as it sank into your clothing, onto your skin. The woman leaned forward, gently taking your chin in her hand, forcing you to meet her gaze. She stared at you hard for a few long seconds. “But then you went ahead and pissed me off ,” she hissed, pushing your face away roughly and stepping back, out of the spreading pool of accelerant.

You couldn't suppress the coughs that wracked your body as you continued to inhale the fumes, as you continued to fight. One of the men approached you slowly as all the others retreated, a torch lit and flickering in his hands. The sun was still high in the sky; this flame was not meant to offer warmth or illumination.

It was meant to ignite.

Something in you cracked and fell away as you realized... this was it.

There truly was no way out. There had never been a way out.

You couldn't do any more against them now than when you were a child, quivering and confused and helpless. The faces before you were different, yet you had not changed at all.

Powerless.

You had failed. You’d failed your family. You’d failed yourself. And there would be nothing left to show for all your efforts, for everything that you were or could have been but ash and regret.

You wished you had been able to protect them.

You wished you'd been braver when it truly mattered.

You wished you'd been a little more selfish.

You wished… You wished—

Everything went white and chills wracked your body at the sudden onslaught of freezing air against your wet clothes.

The world erupted into chaos—hail and snow and shards of savage, unforgiving ice. Shouting rose from somewhere in the camp, but you couldn't make out who they had belonged to or what was said.

The blizzard glittered beneath the morning sun. You fought not to squint, to try keep your eyes open in the face of the storm to see—to see—

There he was. Wreathed in the torrent of rime and burning frost.

And finally, you breathed.

a/n: title from 'war of hearts' by ruelle

it goes without saying that the ‘updates on saturday’ plan is no longer going to happen lol. im a STEM girlie and my job is very mentally taxing so i don’t always have the energy leftover to write, no matter how much i want to. and tbh then i end up rushing to get something out on time that i’m just not happy with lol

on that note: like i mentioned above, i was still not satisfied with the last chapter so i made some changes and it shifts the context quite a bit

essentially i had 2 paths in my mind for how this could go angst-wise, chose one, heard a loud WRONG buzzer, and then changed it so it is instead the other lmao

aaanyways my b one of these days i will actually have a work finished before i start publishing it (no i will not)

hope you enjoyed xo

#wriothesley #wrio #wriothesley x reader #wrio x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin imagines #reader insert #reader inserts #lark.writes #🌊

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ambrosialdesire · 2 months

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Idk what type of drugs you put into your yandere Reiner series but it has been on my mind 24/7/365 I need tiny crumbs 🤲 anything, I need anything 😞

AAAAA TYYY i've seen you all the time in my activity and i wanna thank you so much for your constant support! <3

you want more cacoëthes reiner so here’s some more cacoëthes reiner crumbs!!! (also bc i want to write something else rn so i can keep writing the thing i was supposed to post a few weeks ago LOL) and on my kinktober list, there was an epilogue that i was supposed to write (AND I WILL I STG IM TRYING YALL BUT IM JUST BEING BOMBARDED WITH THIS FAST AF PACED PROGRAM 😭) and that was supposed to be a peek inside their relationship during her the first couple months into her pregnancy.

anyways, both the reader (or you lol) and reiner could not keep each other's hands off each other after that night, even though you swear on your entire family's dead souls that you hated him. his big fat cock was too irresistible to continue abstaining from and it's reiner, bro's a little too insatiable for only one round. he ain’t complaining though and he loves to fuck out those endearing i love you’s out of you, so two wins for him ig 😭

and of course, from a previous ask from an anon, reader does indeed get pregnant from the constant action lmfao

but ambro, couldn't the reader have done something to get rid of the child? yeah she/you could've, if not for the fact that you had began to develop feelings towards him (although its mostly bc of the amount of trauma you went through, extreme stockholm syndrome, and heavy coping you had to do in the aotverse, reiner’s the only stable thing in your life so you’re going to cling onto the closest thing of security you have, which is your captor unfortunately 💀) and you're kinda not opposed to it anymore. cacoëthes reader had always wanted to have a family but never thought it could be possible since giving life to a child in a world full of titans wasn't really ideal for starting one. lucky for you, you now live in a world where there's no titans (kinda)!

you were completely alone when you were going through the beginning symptoms of pregnancy, unaware of why you kept vomiting so often or why you had to go to the bathroom even more than before or why you were so fatigued after barely doing anything. when you went to the doctor, that’s when you finally found out that you were already 2 months pregnant. getting out of the office, you kinda snapped out of the housewife-sona you’ve developed in order to cope and become extremely aware of what was happening to you. you cried a lot, absolutely terrified that this was actually happening to you. you barely had your mom most of your life so you didn't know what you were going to do next, all you sorta knew what to do was to make sure that both you and the baby were going to be healthy for the rest of pregnancy.

reiner didn't know about it since he had to leave to go fight some more after a two month absence of him "taking care" of you and your injuries. he sorta did know that he had already gotten you pregnant from all those nights and afternoons fucking on every single surface of the home nonstop, but you never know. so when he came back about a month-ish later, his jaw dropped to the floor when you turned around with a slight bump in your stomach (around this time, you’re like maybe 3-4.5 months pregnant now).

he’s absolutely over the moon but you start crying in front of him, admitting that you’re so scared of the unknown future and what if he actually leaves for good (the abandonment issues are at an all time high bc of hormones and bc he did tell you that he’s going to eventually die in a couple of years 💀). reiner merely hushes you and tells you that you'll be a great mom and he'll be there for you for as long as he lives. it doesn't really make you feel better but the reassuring look in his eyes makes you feel some sort of dull comfort, it's better than nothing ig lol

reiner asks to be sent less often to the wars just so he won't miss the birth of his child or let you get injured again since you're alone most of the time. they grant this for him but they did dock his pay bc of it and it's not that bad of a cut, just more budgeting is going to be more involved in y'alls lives.

yea this is pretty mid snippet-wise sorry 😭

the epilogue i'm going to write covers even more in-depth with their relationship so stayed tuned for that eventually! i might post it on the year anniversary of cacoëthes pt 1 but we'll see lol

#love-message #cacoëthes ask #yandere reiner

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mkeztrm · 22 days

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okay but i do wanna be real really quick about what’s been going on for me personally, i feel like i haven’t been honest with anybody even in my personal circle of friends.

so, seasonal depression has been hitting me hard. if you don’t know what that is, here’s the definition.

I have no idea how to explain how I feel in real words, so I’m gonna write out a scenario that explains it.

imagine a truck coming at you from your left side. full speed, fully accelerating no stop.

imagine a train coming at you from your right side. off the rails, full speed, fully accelerated, no stop.

there’s only one way out, and that’s the doorway infront of you, but in order to exit through that doorway you’d have to face a thousand blades infused with the worlds deadliest snake venom.

You can’t go back, that’s your worst choice.

behind you stands a 6 foot brick wall enforced with lasers, spikes, thorns, knives, daggers, swords, bullets, cannons. any object that can cause harm, but you don’t see that just by looking at it. It’s sugar coated with portraits of all your best memories, the things you could go back to if you just climb over that wall and “save yourself”. But you know it’s a trap, and that as soon as you ground yourself on the other side you’ll face the worst outcome you could’ve ever imagined.

now the truck never hits you, neither does the train. it’s the anticipation of “when will it hit me, when will it all be over” that’s really getting you going. the adrenaline rush of knowing you could either make it out, or stay there stuck in a trance of your very own irrational fear of confrontation.

in short, your options are limited.

the only true choices you got are;

stay there and continuously be stuck in a loop of emotions

go back, and face your worst nightmares.

go forward, risk losing it all.

or, you go forward, say “fuck you” to all those negative thoughts, all the negative outcomes and go forward with your life.

now picture everything I’ve just described in that writing as one, singular emotion / feeling. imagine that emotion constantly lingering. any feeling of being happy making you feel guilty afterwards.

that’s what I have been going through. some days i feel fine, great, amazing even. then once i get hit with another wave of this negative feeling i regret ever saying anything to anyone in the first place. It’s really messing with my life. it’s been to the point I’ve crossed the thought of “sewer slide”. i haven’t had those thoughts in ages. i don’t want to do it, I’m not going to do it. /srs but something makes me wonder what everyone’s lives would be like if I wasn’t here. would they be better? /rh probably not because I don’t really impact people that much LMFAO. but I’m not gonna die guys /srs pls don’t report me to safe2say 😭😭😭😭. My relationships are fucked up. I’m slowly distancing myself from anyone i don’t see everyday and the fact I’m aware of it is what really makes me feel regret over it. my love life sucks, im so very genuinely trying my hardest to shake the thought of it away, but no matter how many times it leaves it just comes back even stronger. Anytime I see couples it just reminds me even more that the only people who’d love me romantically are my exes. though, even my exes were just confused and the majority of them actually just saw me as a friend. they just couldn’t differentiate platonic and romantic. all i want is for someone to love me just as much as i love them. i think id do just about anything to have a healthy, stable relationship where communication is there.

that’s really wrecking me, but there’s definitely been some good things.

my best friend is being released from residential soon, and i miss her so fucking much. she means the entire world to me, no person could ever compare to her. she’s so stunning on the inside and out, and she doesn’t recognize it as much as she should. she deserves the world. she’s gonna celebrate my birthday with me we’re gonna have my first birthday party ever at her house :)

my other best friend is gonna hangout with me this weekend, we’re gonna get matching hair dye. I’m gonna get split dye and I think she’s picking one of the colors. she’s learned so much about me and I’ve learned so much about her, it’s honestly so refreshing to hangout with her and leave everyone else in the past for a minute. she doesn’t understand how much of a positive impact she has on me. <3

i wrote a lot, sorry for yapping. i just figured I’d be deadass for a minute, even if no one really cares it’s nice to be able to get the words out in a way

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okthatsgreat · 11 months

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hello!! same person as the read more opddmh ask, off anon now (accidental click hiding my identity permanently. alas) and wow you have fed me so well oh my god. ive been rereading really focusing on that lens and im going absolutely NUTS!! hope you don't mind if i ask another question im just so hooked. r there any dynamics youve especially enjoyed exploring, or hope you get a chance to explore further/introduce?

KOZUELOVEMAIL !!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU.

referring to this post talking about this fic :]!! again going to put this under read more LMFAOO

ohhhhhh my god ok so first of all i know its probably the obvious answer since they are like. the very first people to get introduced in the fic but ive loved writing makoto and miu hgfdbshfjbg i think it started when i was writing lgowab and there were a couple of scenes between them in that fic?? i just remember makoto being this sort of calming and influencing presence to miu, who if youve read that fic definitely needed somebody calm around her lmfao. writing miu in THIS fic im always trying to keep in mind how she would act around adults rather than kids her age and i thought it was important for her to have somebody """""""stable""""""" (worlds BIGGEST asterisk on the stable part) that's able to empathise with her. and on the other hand, i thought it'd be neat for somebody that's wild as hell like miu to be interacting with this version of makoto, since he's sort of lost a lot of his youth to the company he works for :] in a way theyre able to balance each other out. theres still a lot of learning the both of them have to do, miu has a long way to go in terms of trust and makoto is still unable to prioritise his own feelings rather than everybody elses, but theyre certainly getting there!! :] never thought one of my favorite dynamics would be rowdy teenage girl picked up off of the streets interacting with jaded "ultimate hope" but here we are....

very excited to keep going with mikane SOOO excited for them. theres this unspoken codependency that both of them have with each other even if they refuse to admit it. mikan is the ONLY person akane talks to from her class and seems to be the only person she interacts with at all. but on the other hand, mikan relies on akane to be that stability for her, and has to believe in akanes act because of this. i make sure to frequently reference how mikan is worried about akane in her pov and vice versa, because even if they aren't together they're still thinking about the other :] they care about each other so so much, but both of them have this unexpressed reliance on the other for their own personal wellbeing that, again going back to the danganronpa of it all, has a lot to do with their own personal traumas. im trying not to make it super duper heavy handed or anything just yet but it will be explored later on when they finally reunite!!!!!!!!!!! :] writing for mikane can be so funny sometimes especially with akane who is constantly like "yeah mikan is the only person i think about most of the time lol. platonically tho. im not gay"

AND honestly this unspoken dependency sort of applies to naegiri too, even if it is even less stated-- even if makoto and kyoko have other people to turn to in the rare event they DO want to talk about their feelings, theyre still relying on the other for some kind of stability. so even if they are both extremely aware that the other is lying to them in some capacity there will always be worry coming from both sides, which hopefully will get elaborated on later when we get to the peak of makotos arc :D

OHHHH MY GOD BYAKUYA AND MIU TOO. OBSESSED WITH THEM. both of them are such assholes i loooovveeee writing about their whole deal. they are both so so aware of their morality in comparison to somebody like makoto who is just so objectively good that its difficult not to question their standing and why he would want to hang around them. but they are so funny together because miu can not stand how uptight he is and byakuya would actually for real rather kill himself than admit he wants to be friends with her they are everything 2 me

gfshdghgfs as im writing this im realising there are SO MANY i want to explore but i dont want to keep you here forever and ever LMAO so ill try to make this quick first of all. i love exploring angie and kirumi's dynamic. theyre both in different stages of denial, even if kirumi tries to pretend like she isnt. soooo much of kirumi is driven by guilt it is insane, guilt that now EXTENDS to angie because of the whole riot thing. and angie oooughhgh angie. ive got scenes for these guys already written out that i cant waiiiitttttt for

both rantaro and ryoma mirror akane in different ways so im looking forward to their moments as well!!! don't know if i should be elaborating on that because it's very very possibly a spoiler LMFAO but just know things are going to happen. they are definitely going to happen

makoto and junko are also very fun :] still foils to each other but at the same time grossly similar in the way they are exploited by the company. also they hate each other. love writing them

alright im practicing restraint. going to stop now THANK YOU AGAIN SORRY THIS IS SO LONG!!!!!!!! I JUST LIKE TALKING ABOUT THINGS THANKS AGAIN :]] <33

#opddmh #ask lee #kozuelovemail #<3!!!!!!!!!!

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hella1975 · 1 year

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hi okay so, this is a piece of shitty poetry i wrote just now after thinking about your protrayal of zuko (again) and wanted to share bc im a dumb bitch who craves validation and needs to know what you think of this. and if i put a little too much of myself into it in the process, and it became more about my weird relationship with being trans than zuko, it's irrelevant, dont ask questions! it was about zuko initially and i still think it can kinda be applied to him so thats all that matters!! pls forgive the lack of capitalisation, its turned off on my phone and im too lazy to change it :,)

(you dont have to read the next part but if u finish the poem and think it sucks it will explain why lmfao)

BUT FIRST, i need to clarify that ive never written poetry in my life, i know nothing about writing, and my punctuation is definitely all over the place. this whole thing for sure sucks but i have an excuse!! a flimsy one, sure, but still an excuse! im 16 and dont remember ever actually learning gow to write, or all about punctuation or any of that jazz. this is more of a stream of consciousness than a poem. and its just a rough draft so, very unfinished too!! so if u really dont like it that will explain why. basically the point of this whole paragraph is just to tell you that im dumb but im also terrified so please be nice to me bc i will cry and that is a threat! (if im starting to sound hysterical and like im spiralling its bc i am okay pls ignore it)

okay so enough excuses, here she is:

this deep, harsh, incessant feeling of shame harbouring in the bottom of my gut is to me, what roots are to a tree,

solid, strong, and stable,

intertwined with my bones and rooted within my very being.

it feeds me and mother me, swaddling me like an infant and rocking me to sleep from within its familiar, welcoming grasp.

I need it for survival, so integral in my very existence that ripping us apart would destroy all thats left within me.

But yet, we are so very unlike that beautiful symbiosis that the root and plant achieve,

that sweet, simple promise, void of all evil, so pure and light that it, He speaks vengefully about it, spitting sour words into my face and whispering harsh lies into my ears.

Our promise is not so gentle. it solely benefits Him, throwing all of me into the dirt and replacing him with a new unidentifiable creature, borne of self hatred and a need to become something, anything else. a dire need to detach myself from everything ive ever been and anything i could possibly become.

He is a parasite, a horrible looming creature, a cruel beast, making me cower in fear within my own, wretched body. He is cruel, intent on toppling the civilisation i spent so long building, the kingdom of my ego, my heart, my emotion; while i sit, and i watch, and i do nothing.

i may need Him to push the breathe from my lungs and carry the blood through my veins, but, He does not need me. He will never need me. im merely another of his children, an effortlessly replaceable thing. a shameful, ugly creature that He does not care for. that He does love. that He does not need. He does not want me. He does not want me. He does not want me. He does not want me. He does not want me.

anonstie i absolutely adored this you cant write something with the theme of shame written with visceral nature imagery and expect me not to go stupid crazy. the way it starts so structured and delicate just to end with that hysterical repetition like it's all falling apart and i LOVE your wording of things, like 'our promise is not so gentle' is such a sick line. im obsessed with this tysm for sending it me!

#as a writer who also never properly got taught anything and had to figure everything out alone i am GRABBING you by the shoulders rn #this is so good and there was no need to be so doubtful of yourself! i hope you keep writing :)#ask

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sparatus · 2 years

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Fandom Qs! S, P, A, R, K, and Y 😌

HA i see you

Fandom Questions

S: What’s a headcanon you have?

hmm let's see. a friend suggested this to me like, years ago and i'm still rather fond of it: garrus is deaf on one side and partially blind after he takes the rocket to the face, it's not just the heavy scarring. his visor was originally just a tactical visor, but it gets upgraded to also help correct his now much worse vision out of that eye :)

P: Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

[bangs fists on table] DESOLAS MAFIA AU DESOLAS MAFIA AU

ahem. so for people who don't know our ocs, it's less inventing and more just tossing out this one i keep chewing on, but an au where, not terribly long after his parents' death, desolas says to hell with it and drops out of the military to help found a crime syndicate with marius, partially because he's in a Bad Place mentally and the military isn't helping, and partially because marius offers him something better and more stable for saren.

still need to work out. a lot of the details to make it viable for a fic but des becomes a mob boss, which fits his personality anyway; saren's probably an enforcer? he might still get picked up for the spectres just later in life; valis is a friends-to-enemies-to-lovers rival for des who remembers who he used to be and is determined to bring him in (and possibly ends up joining him instead? that'd probably be the plot, who ends up joining who, lmFAO), and nihlus isn't found for the spectres and goes back to terminus at the first opportunity and becomes a scary-ass merc who saren keeps coming across (second plot, maybe a spinoff maybe the same fic who knows lol)

A: Your current OTP.

answered here but also im tacking on garrus/citadel dlc turian lady aka vakarennis im down so bad for them garrus's interlude in itlog is gonna hURT ME

R: A pairing you ship that you don’t think anyone else ships.

listen as soon as i have a new rarepair i make it everybody else's problem. my whole brand is based around people coming for the kryterius and then falling in love with desabrudas. that said i'm still working on swaying people over to the vakarennis raft lmAO

K: How do you feel about the other people in your current fandom(s).

listen there's some fucking freaks here especially in the niche areas i tend to wind up in and i don't respect an awful lot of the so-called "big name fans", but that said i've found my cluster of sane cool people, and honestly it's gotten better with time. people are a lot better at critical thinking than they were when i first joined the fandom, lol.

Y: A fandom you’re in but have no ships from.

oh a fair amount really, but off the top of my head definitely control (remedy entertainment, 2019), i love it SO MUCH and it makes me go utterly feral but i don't really particularly care about shipping either way for it, lol. i jokingly greet emily with "hello lesbian" and "hello wife" when i go talk to her but i'm not really invested in them as a ship or anything.

#press conference #korblez

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babydarkstar · 21 days

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1,17, and 33 for the sapphic ask game!

thanks for the ask sweetness <3

1.are you beating the uhaul allegations? (be honest.) yes. for now. i’d honestly rather get to know someone and befriend them before getting into romance and moving in etc. security and a stable foundation is very important to me, more so than anything. i can be impulsive but i am terrified of ending up homeless or out of options because i put my eggs in one basket; so i’m very careful in that sense. and also we have to have similar interests or at least some kind of compatibility, especially with humor. humor is huge for me. i want to be best friends before lovers <3 that being said, if there’s mutual obsession i’d probably conform to the stereotype. lesbian loneliness and all that lmfao

17. how many people have you dated? talk about them if you want! zero :) lmao. i end up being too much for a lot of people and i also have high standards. and i can’t usually tell when people are genuinely interested in me bc of how many times ive been propositioned as a joke or in a way that was shallow. i have a hard time believing when people are genuine. as for like. situationship that doesnt count as dating id say one??? but i don’t count it because there was never any romance and never would be and i mostly just enjoyed the adoration/attention until i didn’t.

33. do you get crushes/fall in love easily? honestly no. not in a way that matters. i’m a lover i love love and i love feeling loved and adored more than anything but i’m picky. i have high standards and i have a specific set of values that should align and boundaries that should never be crossed. i can’t say i’ve ever truly been in love but i do crush on people and fantasize etc etc and would love to be in love with someone someday. i just feel very deeply and i find it hard to recover from so i’m trying to be more careful. i need someone who is just as intense and eccentric as i am. but im also a hedonist so my idea of my methodology doesn’t always align with what i actually do lmfao. the heart wants what it wants, the pussy wants what it wants. can’t control that so much lol

#asks #💌

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the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see · 3 months

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this is the hi nanna anon again, and oml i do agree w you about yashna crossing the lines!! the black saree thing, her acting like she has a right to question viraj's decisions about mahi, etc

but overall it was overshadowed by the number of things i loved in the movie/the emotions

I think Mrunal being drawn to viraj/mahi did make sense in my head, because I felt like- even though she forgot those memories, her body would remember? i'm not fully sure what I meant but something along the lines of recognising the comfort viraj gave her & subconsciously recognising bits of herself/someone she loved in mahi? but all that might just be the romantic in me being delulu lmao

and I get what you mean by not vibing with it/feeling like it was Too Much, (especially after the malayalam movies), that does make sense.

I desperately needed both the lead characters to go to therapy so many times 😭 helping yashna cope w her trauma before conceiving mahi would've helped in so many ways, no? and like. my brain has been full of thoughts of them dealing with their trauma after the end of the movie (if they make a part 2 exploring their dynamics, i'd die of joy. unfortunately it's not likely to happen at all smh)

and yes 65 roses was so cute and genius

anyway, thanks for answering!! (and for dealing with my unprompted essay lol)

YASHNA i could not for the life of me remember their names lmfao -- and yeah like as far as she knows shes a random stranger and she's demanding traumatic memories and answer from literally a guy at a coffeeshop like 😭😭 please he just spent all day frantically searching for his daughter maybe find him a therapist instead

for me her being drawn to him made sense in like a, the dog recognizing the kid and him, the fact that they didnt stray from their life paths after the accident, like if they were married they would be in the same place not just because they were together but because their lives just played out like that. but i can see how you see it (im a hopeless romantic too so i want this more than the analytical way) and especially with how much trauma yashna went through and only found comfort in viraj, so even without conscious memory her subconscious would still find comfort in him..................... anon i am subscribing to your beliefs

I KNOWWWWWW LIKE PLEASE 7CUPS IS FREEEEE!!!!!!!!! if i was in that movie i would be getting my degree in psychiatry specifically for them. on god we are getting your mental health above the ground bro

yesssssssssssssss, nani has such a Father Face in a way i cannot explain so its for me specifically that he's playing more now that he's older. if i wasnt in love with him i'd ask him to adopt me (and tbh. he's more than old enough to.)

jersey was so sad, i still tear up when i listen to the songs :(((( its a movie i definitely want to watch again when my emotional capacity is more stable lmaoo

no worries at all, i loooooove essay asks like we r having an intellectual conversation in this chilis tonight 🙏🏽🙏🏽 i will literally never be annoyed im like omg friend :]

#love youu<333 #asks #desiposting #the tree speaks #ily anon

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twinstarlovers · 3 months

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Finally being alone. It’s been a whole year lol. Time to get back to myself lol but I hope you are good. I’ve been thinking about you here & there. I’m glad I got to live all last year for once in my life or be free. I wanna say it was good karma just coming back to me after all these years but I think this year it’s gonna be REAL good karma. Idk if I told you but I met this stranger at Olive Garden, she was a host but the person I was w asked what book she was reading & it was spiritual book & her & I just start talking or whatever & she was like she’s been looking for a spiritual buddy to go to sound baths w & shit & I’m like girl ME TF. She’s 30 LMFAO but you can tell she’s really in touch w her inner child. She’s also a leo lol. I texted her but we haven’t spoken much probably cus she’s busy or idk & idc but it was awakening that I needed to get back into my spirituality. I’ve also attempted to dye my hair purple. Literally nothing happened but I could see a bit & it was fire. Maybe soon but ima just go black in the meantime again cus whatever this color is I don’t like it. It’s like a brownish/red like nah bruh. Im tired of my natural hair lol. Anyways I have nobody & im here for it. My soul was itching to be alone for a while now. Im sober too yay for me. I’ve been drinking again too which is good. Like my body can handle it cus idk if you remember I told you I would get sick so I just stopped drinking altogether but yeah now I can drink so that’s good. I haven’t been smoking cus no. Mostly because I wanna be more stable emotionally & mentally or I wanna get used to be being alone cus high me intensifies my inner world so if I am not used to being alone or at peace I’m gonna be thinking of the past & the past is what I’m tryna let go of rn. I also stopped w tarot cards because I used them too much & I noticed they would go missing (probably cus of that lol) so I was like well it’s not necessary rn & I should be more present & i don’t care about knowing. I’ve also been itching to go to the gym but I need a push or that right moment but it’s been on my mind like crazy. Maybe tmr (February 1st). I’ve been more disciplined w money too! LMFAOOOOOOO one of my biggest issues lol. Spending is a part of who I am lol. Also I’ve already applied for financial aide cus yes tf cus I already made the decision to get my associates in social work. So idk let’s see if it’s even gonna manifest if not then maybe I’ll make my way around it anyways. I know im not meant to overwork & it’ll all turn out in my favor. I wish I was rich & could not work but volunteer to help people just cus. The whole making money for helping people just doesn’t sit right w me 😭 but I mean I guess it doesn’t matter when that’s my intention in the first place so money is a bonus. Pisces midheaven tingz 💁🏻‍♀️✨. Anyways I feel good tho kinda. In terms of feeling like I’m human or healing. Like not on meds, having good mental & emotional health & energy to be present for a job, having energy to go to school & the gym like idk I thought I was beyond damaged tbh that it wasn’t possible for me. I wanna cry LMFAO. This song in the back tho. I’m listening to my old playlist. I wanna get back into music againnn. But yeah I’m glad I’m doing better. Unfortunately it had to take this long but im glad I can be healthy to enjoy the rest of life. It’s like living for the first time. Being a teenager for the first time, being a kid for the first time, & being an adult for the first time as well. It feels super good to have them all in synch cus I thought I lost my teenage years. I mean I did when I was actually a teenager but at the end of the day those are just numbers & im still in touch w my inner teen so dying my hair & everything feels good like I’m living it now. Im so glad I haven’t gotten my tattoos yet like I’m glad everything is happening at the time it is. It’s not rushed. I wanted everything so early but then I see everyone having everything so early that they get so tired of it so quickly or doing things early that they are tired of it & it’s like not for me!

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mistergoddess · 11 months

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the way i'm going to be absolutely fucked by bills on the 1st ^_^ rent n utilities n student loan payment all the usual stuff but then also... car insurance renewing and i have... hrt check in appointment on the 1st as well... and no health insurance rn bc unemployed so ummmmm no clue how that's gonna go out of pocket, i'm def gonna call this week and see what my options are and like if it's possible to just get it refilled without going in but pprrrrooobbably not so i'll also ask like for a quote for how much itll be and if there's any idfk financial help i can get or like sliding scale? probably nnnoootttttt bc its fancy private clinic, which was great when i had insurance! but now is like oh fuck oh shit! but worth trying to ask what they can do auuhhhh... but im looking at like upwards of $1200 in bills all hitting on one day lmfao fmsbl

AAAAND im injured so job hunt/working rn is sketchy and need gas and need to refill my t before the end of the month which is gonna be expensive now out of pocket and groceries are stupid fucking expensive bc im Not Good About Food and have Special Needs when it comes to food which makes it rly expensive and it's so exhausting to be like wow i could really like save money on food AND be healthier and have more energy if my mental issues didn't make my ability to eat different things and cook like fucking. nonexistent so i spend so much just eating like my Autism And Depression Wombo Combo Safe Foods i.e. instant food like ramen and frozen dinners and tuna/chicken salad and sandwiches and snacks which isn't good for me or nutritious and sustainable anyway.

it's so fucking hard i don't think of myself as struggling financially bc i'm crazy good with my money... usually... and always work it out and keep my savings up when i need to to keep a big safety net under me for just this kind of stuff since it's so hard to hold a job and i take a long time between jobs so i can't afford to let my savings dip to where i'd be absolutely stranded between jobs and can breathe a little. but then i get here and i'm like yeah it isn't good huh like money is indeed an issue isn't it. and then i don't think of myself as disabled and it's like yeah well clearly i struggle with stable employment and i struggle with the food thing. and my issues make it hard for me to work out stuff like negotiating and accessing healthcare in ways that are more manageable and affordable, like i know trying to call my gyno this week about the hrt checkin is going to be a disaster and i'm not gonna be able to ask the right questions or know how to ask for what i need and just get discouraged and scared.

like i DO have special needs and am at a disadvantage to ppl who can cope better and are higher functioning. but i don't. idk. allow myself? that? it's so fucking exhausting bc idk people have it far far worse and far harder than i do and i am functional to a degree but those weak spots and the inconsistency just mean. i'm disabled but not disabled enough to like treat myself kindly over it and not disabled enough to feel like i deserve to ask for help because i can take care of myself sometimes but the times i can't are really scary and stressful

i feel like. i'm constantly balancing on a fucking tightrope. or sliding down a hill and barely clinging to the side and desperately trying to climb back up a few feet before the next wave of the avalanche hits. and the fact that i CAN climb up and gain some ground a little makes me feel like. well i'm not really doing as bad as the people at the bottom of the fucking ravine who actually deserve to be rescued so i should just get over myself and why am i even here and why can't i just toughen up and get over it and climb all the way up. and i feel so fucking guilty like ok also why aren't i helping the people at the bottom of the ravine. if i can afford to keep some savings under me for times like this and emergencies then i'm just hoarding money and not doing enough for people who don't have that luxury like. i'm a bad person for looking out for myself first and not distributing what i have. idk.

and i know these are all really common anxieties and stresses and feelings of shame and guilt and self depreciation and self sabotage amongst ppl who have variable or mixed needs and like the fucking impostor syndrome that comes with it... which helps me feel less alone but i feel really alone too and i am quite alone, i have 2 really key players in my support network who i'm endlessly grateful for but i don't have anyone taking care of me but me and it's exhausting just. staying afloat. but i don't see myself as worthy of that exhaustion. i don't have anyone i can rely on just for like. idk. sympathy and comfort and distraction bc i don't have any irl friends and i don't have a social life so it's just me like. either going to work and struggling a bit to maintain that or being unemployed and struggling really hard to gain ground again and get back to stable. i don't have a lot of joy or wonder or exploration or experiences in my life because it's hard enough just to exist and not spiral and lose everything i'm constantly working so hard for and not spiral and start wanting to kill myself.

#big ventyyyy about money medical stuff etc disordered eating talk etc #life is pain rent should be free student debt shouldnt exist food and healthcare should be free god bless #the money i make should be for little treats and cigarettes and doing fun things #shitpost.txt

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