Sometimes Things Would Just Pile Up Until One Thing Triggers An Explosion That Will Make Me Sink Into

Sometimes things would just pile up until one thing triggers an explosion that will make me sink into a mess of emotions.

Those times I will say and think bad things about myself. Things I won't believe in their entirety two hours later. I will be angry, I will cry and I will be wrong.

In those moments, let me cry. Let me get the poison out. Eventually I'll start thinking logically again and will manage to convince myself that all those horrible things I thought about myself aren't the truth.

I will build myself back up again. But to do that without this structural collapse happening again in the future, I will first need to get that rotten wood away. I will need to break a few things, pull out a few rusty nails that are holding the planks in place.

I will need to look at the emptyness left behind and wonder, how could I ever fill it out again. I will immediately want to rebuild the place in the same shape it was, with the same type of wood. I would want to make it familiar once again. But even though I may try, it will never be the same.

But after the grief of losing this familiarity lessens, I will look at the new wood and think that, hey, it's actually pretty good looking. And hey, this one thing would absolutely fit alongside it. And so there will be a new familiar. A safer (healthier) familiar.

But to do all of that, I will need to get the poison out first.

Don't try polishing the wood. Don't try to convince me the wood can be fixed. Don't try filling up those holes. You don't live here. You can't fix this place when you don't know how it was built and how I spend my everyday here.

I know those creaks, those holes in the walls, those creepy stairwells. They know me too. They trust me to keep them in a good condition. Let me do that.

Just be ready with a snack for me when the rot is out. Keep me hydrated while I rebuild this place. Everything else will come later.

Unfinished but here you go for now

After all, words only affect those who have souls.

After all, a soul can't be forever tied to a wall.

At one point, it will just... let go.

merlin has more strength than me bc if I heard uther pendragon bitch and moan about how magic only brings harm after I just saved his sons life for the ten billionth time that year with my magic and almost died yet again, I fear id accidentally turn him into a log

“imagine caring so much about fiction” imagine being so lame that you scoff at the timeless human practice of falling in love with art and stories

more scammers to lovers au sketches since it’s become my whole personality apparently

bakugou bugging deku in the it department bc he’s on mandatory r&r and bored out of his mind doing desk work (ft. bonus tag-a-long sketch with important historical references)