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#stay home and read
cheshirelibrary · 2 years
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Weekend plans.
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inkskinned · 11 months
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im having a particularly terrible night with urges and imagery that i dont know how to handle. i gave in to some things. held back on some others. but im barely holding on, dear internet stranger.
you do not owe me your time or your words.. but if you could write some hope into existence for me.. i would be unendingly grateful to you.
please. tell me how you do it. tell me how you survive. because im not so sure i can get through the fifteen days it'll take to get to my seventeenth birthday.
could you please give me something to place my faith in? i dont think the universe is watching out for me anymore.
i don't usually answer these, because i am not a professional, and you deserve professional help. when i was 17 i was terrified of the idea of professional help, because my household was extremely unsafe, and made it clear that if i ever chose to get help, i would be punished for it.
i hope this is not your case. i hope that you can call someone, and they can take you where you should go.
but i will give you the advice that i wish i got, when i couldn't get help at 17, when i was so bad that years later, i literally don't-know-how-i-survived it: what you want is peace, not death. your brain is sick. it has romanticized an ending where there are no consequences. where effort isn't necessary. where you can just... forget.
you want peace. that is a normal, human thing to want. maybe it feels more like you want quiet. or just... to take a break for a second.
here is what i will say: to end yourself means you never get to experience what it's like to actually be happy. i thought i knew what it was like, and i was bitter about it. i'd say - i've been happy, it's not worth it, because i didn't know what i was missing. i thought that happiness meant having a partner or having a job or money or a college degree. it sounded like effort. it sounded like something that had to happen to me.
for the first time in my life, just this week, i was able to go to a concert and just-enjoy-it. no liquor, no drugs. just stomping my feet and getting caught up in it. i didn't feel nervous or self-conscious or overwhelmed. i just had a good time. these days have a lot of these firsts for me - it is the first time i can eat cake without crying. it is the first time i can be around an exacto blade without supervision. it is the first time i have too many people to call when i am crying.
i can't tell you where you'll run into happiness, only that, for me, it started once i was out of that fucking house. it started once i figured out where the pain was coming from. once i figured out that i was not possessed, something medical was wrong with me. that i am not stupid or lazy, i have depression and adhd. the first few years were difficult. at 19, during my efforts to recover, i actually got worse by a considerable margin. and then, with time and patience - i got better.
happiness doesn't feel like what you think it will. in movies it's so golden and all-encompassing. but it doesn't fly into your hands when you buy your first car nor does it arrive in the arms of a partner nor does it require passing your classes. happiness came to me on a tuesday in the form of a red-winged blackbird, and i looked at her, and she looked at me, and i said - oh. the whole world suddenly filled itself in with color. like i had been forever-asleep. like every corner of every room was suddenly glistening.
it ended quickly, back then. it just stopped in to check in on me. but it was enough - this thing i had never experienced, but that i knew (logically) could happen. before that, i was only staying because it would make my mom sad if i died. that was my only reason. and then the happiness came, so strange and brilliant and lovely that for years i couldn't even look at it directly.
these days, things are so different. life is so much easier. i don't wish for death because so much of what i have is already at peace. my boss understands when i need a mental health day. people in general are less prone to high school drama. entire communities hold my hand and have my number. i have a car and a dog and a little apartment garden and candles on all available surfaces and today i bought myself a little cake just-to-celebrate-nothing. my body is my own and we are both dancing.
there are so many things i've gotten to taste in the last 10 years. i know, for you, that is an eon, because it's more than half of your life. but if it helps? in the 5 years between 17-21: i filled myself with laughter and love. i got to be a lead in a ballet and got my first tattoo and then my second and pierced my ears the way i'd wanted to (one of them professionally the other over a hot stove with a potato) and i discovered hozier is my favorite singer (i know. he was new back then) and i got my first real job and my first real paycheck and i hadn't ever been seen as smart but then i started to actually treat my adhd as a condition rather than a burden and people started saying you're like the smartest person in the room and my best friend met her husband who i will one day stand next to as maid of honor when he is her groom and i got to help people and make a stupid blog called "inkskinned" and find out that writing is actually my passion and that maybe i'm actually kind of good at it if i just practice and i got to meet my parents' dog (his name is kaiju) and i slept on couches and kissed people and tried new things and learned how to breathe without feeling my chest tighten and that peace is here, on this planet, that peace echoes everywhere, it is in my hair and my homework and my houseplants, it is quiet and divine and mine because i fought for it and i built it and yes i lost hair over it but holy shit the whole world feels like it is shifted through a sunbeam
recently someone asked me if i could go back in time to 6th grade, with all the knowledge i have now, would i? and without thinking, i barked absolutely not. i know i should say it's because i wouldn't want to risk losing any of this stuff - but really it's because i would never survive being a teenager again. it sounds incredibly lame and impossible, fake - but being a teenager was the hardest thing i ever did. i had no voice, no control, only fear and hatred.
but i did survive it. nothing about me is special. nothing about me is stronger than you or better prepared or more efficient. i didn't survive it perfectly. i made a lot of mistakes and lost a lot of friends and harmed myself in ways that i'm still recovering from. but i did survive it. and there is a part of me looking at you in the past and saying - i'm you in the future.
and holy shit. every day. every goddamn day i'm glad we survived to see the rest of it. because you hit 18 and everything changes. like, everything. and holy shit, it is infinitely worth it.
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expelliarmus · 2 months
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starry-bi-sky · 9 months
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Part SEVEN of "Clone Danny"
Red Robin, Danny recognizes, steps away from him as he sits up. "My name is Phantom," he signs, blinking the exhaustion out of his eyes. (From Red Robin's perspective, it looks like he has no eyes. There lacks his signature green glow.) "I'm not a gang member, just an out-of-town vigilante."
Red Robin frowns at him, an uncertain grip on the bō in his other hand. "Phantom?" He repeats, no lacking amount of suspicion in his voice. "How can I believe that?"
Right. Yeah, okay, that's fair. Danny shrugs at him, and slumps against the wall. "Google search?" He gestures, he's been out in the daytime before and he's seen the news articles about him.
Red's eyes narrow at him and Danny simply draws his knees up and faceplants into them, half-listening to Red's murmurs into his comm while also trying to get some extra-shut eye.
("Oracle, can you pull up anything on a vigilante named Phantom? The guy here is claiming to be one." Tim says.
"On it."
"Is this Phantom wearing a white mask?" Bruce asks, his voice gruff like an aftershock. "There's a vigilante who shares the same name, but he resides in Illinois."
"Is this guy from that Amity city you visited ages ago?" Says Tim, before shaking his head. "Don't answer that. Yes, he's wearing some freaky mask. I said it reminded me of Hood's helmet for a reason."
"I've got something," Oracle interrupts, "Bats' right. as usual. The Phantom of Amity Park, not much stuff of this guy but he's only been out for over a year. Apparently, his rogues' gallery consists of ghosts."
"Oh great.")
"Look tell the Batman that I'm sorry for trespassing on his turf," He signs irritably when Red Robin eventually starts talking to (re: interrogating) him again. "It's not like I want to be here."
"How did you get in Gotham anyways?" Red Robin questions, batman was on his way to help deal with the situation but Tim doubted he wouldn't get caught up on the way with dealing with petty crime. "Your turf is nearly a thousand miles away from here."
"Two words." Danny deadpans, "Teleport ghost." (Red Robin winces sympathetically.) "I'm keeping this bastard in the thermos for a month for this alone."
(Danny was ignoring the slow-choking anxiety growing in his lungs over how he was gonna get home. He never takes his phone when he goes out, the risk of breaking it was too high. He had no way of contacting anyone to get him home.)
(He swallows the growing lump in his throat, and buries the feeling in the back of his mind.)
"Thermos?"
Danny unclips his Fenton Phantom Thermos off from his belt loop and shows it to Red Robin. "My ghost-catching device," He says with one hand, tilting it carefully for Red to inspect. "I wish I could say I made it, but its a FentonWorks invention."
(He wasn't sure if it was a smart idea to say who it belonged to, but saying it wasn't his probably loosened up any tracks on him, right?)
"Do you work with these Fentons, then?" Red asks, and something dark and shadowy flickers from the corner of Danny's eye. He glances over, and sees nothing, and his hackles raise.
(Either that was Batman, or a ghost, or Danny's mind playing tricks on him. He couldn't feel his ghost sense building in his throat, so he decided it was either the latter of the former.)
Danny snorts, quiet and gruff. "No." He clips his thermos to his belt again, stifling a smile on his face. "The Fentons hate me actually, I prevent them from catching ghosts themselves. Their son gives me their tech."
He had a cover story, so he might as well stick with it, right?
Batman shows up at that moment, appearing atop the little roof where the door is, and giving Danny a heart attack when he speaks in his low, rumbly voice like thunder rolling in, "Why would they hate you for that?"
Danny shoots up to his feet with a startled yell in his throat, clutching his chest as he whirls around and looks up. He nearly runs into Red Robin, and signs a few choice swears at the Bat.
"wow you're scarier in person, asshole."
"you didn't answer my question."
"Of course I didn't, you scared me." and Danny takes a trembling step back when the Batman jumps down and lands on the roof in front of him. He's faced ghosts before, but somehow the living is always scarier.
"But, um, the reason is a bit.. complicated, I guess." He says, fingers beginning to shake as his adrenaline wears off. God is he tired. He wants to go home. "The Fentons are the local ghost hunters and local crazies. I don't know if I can call them mad scientists because they're harmless to the living."
"But they're extremely anti-ghost. I've heard from their son multiple times the very unethical things they would do to ghosts if they got their hands on one."
Danny 'talks' a little more before calling it quits, even telling Batman that he can't tell him more without putting his identity at risk.
Plus, its getting harder and harder to hide his bone-deep exhaustion and his growing fear of being stranded in the most dangerous city in America with no way home.
"I would love to tell you more, believe me I'm dying to." Danny signs, shaky sarcasm dripping from his fingers. His hands are visibly trembling and he's withholding a slowly growing panic attack. "But I would like nothing more than to figure out a way to get home."
"Do you have no one to contact?"
"Sort of. But only one of them could probably come get me and get me back to Amity by sunrise. And I have no phone."
That one person being Ellie.
=====
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8
Taglist: @the-navistar-carol @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @gin2212 @youracearocroatneighbour @luckybyrdrobyn @deeplyconfusedbear @epilepticnerd @beautifulmomenttodrawblank @sara0055 @blusunkhild @letmesayfuxk (?) @latheevening226 @tkiesai @rosedasy @meira-3919
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doodleodds · 1 year
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Me? Uploading a Halloween comic on November 18th, almost four whole-ass weeks late???? Yeah that’s uh. yup. yeah
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Thanks for reading! :) <3
#persona 5#p5#akira kurusu#OUGH OH MY GOD ITS FINALLY. DONE. I AM LOSING MY MIND#if you've been following me for long enough: yes! this IS in fact the comic i mentioned that i was making last year.#Fun fact! This is also! The Third Draft of said comic!!! i have redrawn this thing THREE FUCKING TIMES#as a result you may notice that i uh. a) gave up on coloring this thing. no way in HELL am i coloring 30 pages. im not...strong enough#you will settle for simply having monochrome colored panels and you will LIKE IT!!!!! >:OOOOO#and b) gave up on backgrounds! yeah fuck that lmao. i am never drawing people in the monabus again and mementos can kiss my ass!!!!!#i just want to draw my silly little characters & not their environments#and you may also say: sophia. by halloween they are already in Sae's palace. why isn't goro with them and where's haru?#and to that i say shhhh suspend your disbelief. akechi is in mementos carving pumpkins to avoid trick or treaters.#and also haru isn't there because i cannot draw 6+ people in a cramped space yet!!! my art skills are Just Not There Quite Yet :(#so she's staying home and handing out fullsized candy bars to kids. that's where she is while this is all going down#'does akira know it's akechi down there?' :) that's up to you! but i WILL say that I was thinking about Akeshu when i wrote this so. :))))#ANYWAY if you read this far in the tags im so sorry lmao. thanks for sticking around! Hope you had a happy halloween :)#hopefully i won't disappear for long this time. idk im just gonna start uploading other bullshit art in the interim between comics i guess#probably some fire emblem shit. we'll see. we'll see. anyway bye!! till next time!
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oozeandgoo-art · 7 days
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Stubbornness.
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hey remember that caramel-carmel Fake Script i was writing? yeah it's technically not done but i'm tired of tinkering with it so here it is! we'll just say it's a uhhhh uncovered partial script or somethin
this is not in any way official! it's a 100% unaffiliated fanwork & i am Just Fucking Around for Funsies
~
BARNABY: oh, I love carmul!
FRANK: [long, disgusted pause] …what? 
BARNABY: Carmul! You know, those tasty little treats you’re holdin’!
FRANK: You mean caramel?
BARNABY: That’s what I said.
FRANK: [scoffs] No, you didn’t. You said carmul.
BARNABY: We’re sayin’ the same thing here.
FRANK: We absolutely are not!
JULIE: [giggles] You really aren’t.
BARNABY: Carmul, caramel, tomato, tomahto! What does it matter!
FRANK: [flustered, stammering] It - it matters! Julie, you agree with me, don’t you?
JULIE: Well… I don’t know, Frank! I think both are fun!
FRANK: You’re both wrong, then! Wally, you agree with me, don’t you?
WALLY: [hesitant] …I say carmul.
FRANK: No! Not you too! How could you poison him like this, Barnaby?
BARNABY: Don’t look at me! I’m innocent, honest!
FRANK: Ha! So you admit that carmul is the wrong pronunciation!
BARNABY: [groans] ah, geez… throw a dog a bone!
FRANK: I’d be delighted to if you’d just-
[distant yelp as Eddie trips off-screen] 
FRANK: Eddie! Thank goodness, finally someone who can put an end to this debate!
EDDIE: [nervous laugh] Oh no, what did I stumble into this time? 
BARNABY: Hold on a tic, Frank. Hey Ed, take this. What do you call that tasty treat?
EDDIE: [with a tinge of fear] A… caramel?
FRANK: [triumphant] a-HA!
SALLY: [approaching] Did someone mention carmul?
FRANK: AGH!
BARNABY: [delighted] Perfect timing, Sally!
SALLY: What, for a delicious morsel? Hand it over, thank you!
FRANK: You’re all wrong, and I’ll prove it! We’re going to go around the neighborhood and - wait. [under his breath] One two three four - [returns to normal volume] we’re taking this to Poppy’s!
BARNABY: Then Home, then Howdy, yeah yeah - might as well ask the daisies, too.
JULIE: Oooh, and the butterflies! 
SALLY: While we’re at it, we should phone everyone in the book, just to get the widest audience input.
FRANK: [unamused] You all think you’re so funny. 
EDDIE: Well, you gotta admit it’s… it’s… 
[brief, tense pause. Eddie clears his throat]
EDDIE: It’s perfectly sensible!
[Frank makes an affronted noise]
FRANK: Poppy will see sense.
-
POPPY: I’d be delighted to have a cah-mehl, but I’m afraid it-
FRANK: [aghast, truly astonished] You’re joking. You have to be joking. CAH-MEHL? Does no one in this town have sense?! Besides Eddie, of course. And Julie - on a technicality.
EDDIE: [oddly pleased] Why thank you. 
POPPY: My goodness, did- did I say it wrong?
BARNABY: [gleeful] Not in the least, Pops!
SALLY: As far as I’m concerned, you added an extra layer of… pizazz to the word. In fact, I may adjust my own pronunciation accordingly!  
POPPY: [flustered] Oh, well, I didn’t - don’t change on my account -
SALLY: Take the compliment, Poppy. 
POPPY: [meekly] Thank you.
[Sally wanders from the group, practicing the slightly adjusted pronunciation]
WALLY: I’m not sure I understand. What’s wrong with carmul or… care… mul… carmel…
POPPY: Don’t strain yourself dear, you’ll get a migraine.
FRANK: What’s wrong is that it’s ENTIRELY incorrect! It! Is! Pronounced! Caramel!
JULIE: Aww, Frank, I’m sure Home and Howdy will agree with us! Team Caramel, WOOO!
BARNABY: [barely restrained disbelief] Boy, won’t they! 
POPPY: I’m not sure what the fuss is about… there isn’t much of a difference, is there?
[Frank makes a high pitched, frustrated noise and stomps off. He can be heard calling Home’s name in the background]
JULIE: Oop, there he goes!
POPPY:  Oh - oh dear. I didn’t mean to rile him up.
BARNABY: Don’t twist your beak about it - Frank’s just bein’ Frank. Now if you’ll excuse us, I wanna see how it goes with Home.
WALLY: [quietly, thoughtful] But Home doesn’t talk like us…
POPPY: If you’re sure… Do let me know how it goes. 
SALLY: [swaying back to the group] I’ll phone you post-haste! Or even better, I can come by for one of your delicious muffins and regale you with the whole escapade, in detail.
POPPY: [audibly pleased] That sounds - well that sounds like a wonderful idea! I have some fresh from this morning-
BARNABY: Sounds great! See you around, Poppy.
-
FRANK: Home, I have an important question to ask you. Is the correct pronunciation for this candy ‘carmul’, or ‘caramel’? One creak for caramel, two for the incorrect carmul.
BARNABY: Talk about a bias…
[Home stays silent. Sally yawns.]
FRANK: One creak for caramel, two-
[Home slowly shuts their curtains]
FRANK: Hmph! The nerve… well, I suppose a house that can’t speak shouldn’t have a say, anyway.
WALLY: Home can speak. He just does it differently.
BARNABY: And I’m pretty sure they just agreed with me, Walls, an’ Sally.
JULIE: They did not!
BARNABY: Looked like it to me!
SALLY: I have to agree with Julie. Home just declared itself a neutral party, and so the vote can’t be counted either way. On to Howardson!
JULIE: Yes! Howdy! Our last hope!
FRANK: He may have terrible taste in company, but he’s a sensible businessman. Poppy and Home have let me-
JULIE: Us!
FRANK: -us down, but surely Howdy will back us up. 
BARNABY: [faux-serious tone, knows something they don’t] Absolutely. Without a doubt.
-
[store bell chimes]
HOWDY: Howdy-do - [brief pause, a tinge of surprise] everyone! My my, what brings the entire neighborhood to my bountiful bodega? Finally decided to clean me out for good?
BARNABY: [snorts] With how fast you restock? I think I’d break my funnybone!
FRANK: We have important business.
HOWDY: [mildly curious] Do we? That’s news to me! But I’m letting you know now that I don’t deal in bugs, Frankly. It’d be hypocritical. 
FRANK: Believe me, I wish I were here to talk insects. Unfortunately, I need to settle a score. Mr. Dear, if you would?
EDDIE: If I would what?
SALLY: [stage-whisper] Barnabello gave you the, ah, parcel earlier?
EDDIE: The…? Oh! Oh, right - I have it right here, just… give me a second… which pocket…? There we go.
[sound of a small, hard candy placed on the countertop] 
HOWDY: A carmul all for me? You shouldn’t have! No, really, you shouldn’t have. I’m on the clock.
BARNABY: [loud bark of laughter] I knew I could count on you, pal! So what’s the tally, Frankie?
[Frank mutters something inaudible]
BARNABY: What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of me bein’ right!
FRANK: [explosive] You’re all wrong! The correct pronunciation is caramel, CARAMEL! You’re all - you’re all just - heathens! Heathens, I say! I’m taking my company elsewhere! 
EDDIE: Mr. Frankly…
JULIE: [overlapping, following] Aw, c’mon Frank! 
[the door jingles. Julie and Frank’s hushed arguing in the doorway underlies the dialogue]
HOWDY: It sounds like I missed quite the context! Mind filling me in?
BARNABY: That was pretty much it; a real potato potahto argument.
HOWDY: If you say so, Barn. Speaking of potahtos-
[the background argument abruptly cuts off, the door jingles again as it's closed]
FRANK: [rapidly rejoining the group] Hold it! You don’t really say potahto, do you?
BARNABY: [under breath] Here we go again…
SALLY: [deeply amused] Where on Earth did you pick up such a butchered pronunciation? I must have missed the sign on my tour down from the heavens.
EDDIE: [baffled, underlying the dialogue] I’ve never heard anyone say it that way.
JULIE: Oh! Is it a joke? Like, Barnaby says potato-potahto, and then you jokingly say potahto to make us laugh? 
HOWDY: It’s not a joke. That’s how it’s said.
FRANK: [genuinely disturbed] No - no one says that. It’s potato.
HOWDY: Well I say potahto, thank you very much! And if you ever want one from my store again, you’d do well to accept that.
[Various grumbles of reluctant acceptance]
HOWDY: Good. Now, can I get any of you a refreshing drink after such a squall? You must be parched! 
WALLY: I wouldn’t mind a glass of mulk.
[Horrified silence. A pin drop would be deafening]
[Sudden uproarious and overlapping argument]
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whosirina · 7 months
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“I can’t hear you~”
“Could you say that again?”
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youareunbearable · 1 year
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I like to think that Himring has some elf magic on it, or at least prime Noldor construction that allows it to keep standing
Imagine if it did keep standing well into the third age? That you could look across the sea and see the little island with that strange elven fortress on it? Many Men, Elves, and Dwarves alike have sailed to its shores and tried to open its gates, but just like the Doors of Durin, they're sealed shut. Nothing anyone does can open them, and there is no way in either. The walls are unscalable, no grapples will ever find anything to catch onto, and ladders will sway and fall under the strong sea winds. Tunneling under the walls gets one no where either, for if they dig deep they either keep meeting rock, or find water.
This is Himring, the fortress built with the desire to withstand anything a Vala could throw at it, outlast any siege. It was constructed with powerful intent, to be the strong hold and last safety net an eldest brother could use to protect his siblings. Imagine the power a frantic, paranoid, still healing from his torture Maedhros would pour into a place with the mindset of Safety?? Of Protection?? Maedhros would have rituals where every dawn he would walk upon its battlements and talk to himself, talk to Himring, of nothing important, nothing that could be valuable to overhear, but nonetheless the intent of using it for safeguarding, of protection, and providing safety. A ritual of that for over a couple hundred years? Maedhros burns bright with the white flame of life and hes pouring all of that into his fortress. There is a reason Himring is the only thing to survive of Beleriand, it has it's Lord's Will within their foundations.
As far as Himring is concerned, it's still waiting for its Lord to return. It survived the devastation of the War of Wrath that turned the mountains around it to rubble. Its holding against this siege of water surrounding its gates. It will keep holding until its Lord returns, whenever that may be.
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fromtheseventhhell · 3 months
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She wished the Rush would rise and wash the whole city away, Flea Bottom and the Red Keep and the Great Sept and everything, and everyone too, especially Prince Joffrey and his mother. But she knew it wouldn't, and anyhow Sansa was still in the city and would wash away too. When she remembered that, Arya decided to wish for Winterfell instead. (ACOK I, Arya)
Isn't it funny that in the very first book Arya thinks about something bad happening to the people she hates, realizes that someone she cares about could get hurt in the process, and instead decides to focus on wishing for home? I just think that's a neat character moment for her 😁
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cheshirelibrary · 1 year
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theloveinc · 2 months
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wouldn’t it be fucked up if I wrote something abt being one of the women toji stays w/ after the death of his wife except… he brings little megumi and little tsumiki with him to stay with you? Wouldn’t that be so painful and I absolutely shouldnt do it?
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coquettejohnny · 2 months
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sorry dally you died but your death music was FIRE thanks for dying 🩷🩷
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gregoftom · 11 months
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TO ME, THAT’S CINEMA
#tomgreg#so i've seen this around a lot and ppl have already made points but like holy fuck. hoooly fuck lmao where do i begin#TOM THOUGHT THE ROOM WAS EMPTY FOR UH ... FOR WHAT BITCH??#empty for what. you two just going in there ALONE. what for. strategizing? ok but then why was greg showing you tonight's selection.#even if it was girls it's still sus bc like who tf goes specifically to a room to show that shit.#oh by the way i  listened again and tom says first ''why do we have to...'' so GREG asked for the room?#greg asked them to go to an empty room. slut.#anD THEN AFTER SAID ''I WANNA GIVE YOU'' BITCH!!!!!!!!1#are we sure it's girls though...... like does it say later. i'll keep watching but Christ. LIKE. WHAT THE FUCK#how am i supposed to read this other than an affair lmfao and then he says ''go on'' and sends greg off away like a little pet#sick to bastard death of them god#so it's like. greg says can we go somewhere private and tom says why do we have to#greg says i wanna give you... and tom says what do you wanna give me annoyed like#girl we are at work and we are trying to stay alive can't you wait til we are at home for me to clap them cheeks#and then greg says a preview of tonight's selection...  of what? could be alcohol could be sexy stuff could be mf. clothes idk#and then they look up  like O FUCK the room is in use and it's fucking SH*V and immediately tom is like GO ON and greg#doesn't even stutter or say anything like usual he's just like SORRY and leaves immediately bc he KNOWS he gotta gtfo#sorry i'm just. poetic cinema indeed
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nedlittle · 1 year
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staring at a screen 8 hours a day for work: horrible and wretched. emails are in there.
staring at a screen 8 hours a day for tumblr: just and noble. my friends are in there.
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gavidaily · 1 year
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GAVI during training | 30.03.2023
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