the constant emptying

when i was a teen i would regularly enter the Flow while doing my art. i would draw or paint, and sometimes after hours it felt like waking up and i would find this completed piece of art in front of me, not remembering really how i did what i had done, and only then i would realize my own body and thoughts again, that i was hungry or cold or that my shoulders were stiff. these were the moments of complete bliss and fulfillment, the temporary absence of any emotion or impression of existing at all.

ever since, i chase this experience that is flow

Everything should be good. I should be happy.

Instead, I can barely catch my breath because of craziness that I’m feeling internally. I know I’m less miserable now, but I thought it would be replaced with happiness when I got better. Instead there’s just a constant sense of discontent. Emptiness. Hopelessness. I’m trying so hard to be happy. But all I’m left feeling is a constant sense of just… being alive, rather than living. I know I’m more functional now, but if anything that just makes it easier to off myself without hesitation/ intervention.

I can’t keep going this way. I know I can’t. Something has to change, but I don’t understand what.

If I can’t feel any happier… what’s there left for me to do here at all?

i’m scared to death of light and silence

A/N: Symmetra/Sombra fic written for @grimtriggers here on tumblr. Super NSFW, mostly about Sombra submitting completely and entirely to the shaper of her universe.

Also Available on AO3.

Corporate espionage was a very pretty turn of phrase. It sounded almost innocent, benign, like accidentally spilling too much gossip around the water cooler. It did not sound like a controlled explosion on the other side of the Vishkar complex, drawing all security personnel. It didn’t sound like Satya using a pass that did not belong to her to gain access to a room she wasn’t supposed to be in, stealing information she swore to protect, in order to give it to a woman that had a verifiable kill count.

Never too far away, Sombra hovered over her every move, murmuring instructions when she could get close enough.

“Cutting it a little close, bella.”

The blue core in the center of Satya’s left palm lit up, flickering purple. Static traveled up the length of her forearm, a tremble where she was normally steady as a surgeon.

She balled her hand into a fist. “I will be fine.” Satya had the unnerving ability to look right through her, even when Sombra had her cloaking device activated. “You should be more concerned about your own route of escape, if this goes awry.”

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When it Comes to You

Pairing(s): Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak

Warnings: cussing, literal sadness

Word Count: 815


Richie Tozier had never really been good at giving good-byes, but he managed.

Beverly Marsh was first to leave the club behind, taking a small piece of each of them with her. Richie remembered how beautiful she looked the day she left; her auburn locks just beginning to grow back, falling a few inches short of the straps of her yellow sundress. Beverly claimed she was leaving due to the death of her father, but they all knew the cold truth.

She gave each of them a hug, and a kiss. Ben cried. Bill didn’t talk for days. Stan, Mike and Eddie weren’t affected nearly as badly, bidding her off with a promise to write everyday. Richie, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be fazed at all. As a matter of fact, he felt numb.

Numb- because, he knew this was only the start.

Bill was next to go. This was slightly more difficult for Richie to deal with. Bill, unlike Beverly, did not take a piece with him. Instead, he left a piece behind. A cardboard box, wrapped in tape to never be opened again, ‘Georgie’ written in sloppy handwriting on the front. Bill stuttered painfully through his farewell, hardly even able to get the words out.

The boys had a sleepover at Stan’s house the night before Bill’s departure. They rose early the next morning to mourn with him, all sharing prolonged embraces and shedding tears. A month or so passed before Bill sent out a letter. ‘I no longer stutter’, it read, ‘So this can pose as a proper good-bye, and a proper thank you.’

Ben and Stan both moved within the same week, leaving the losers’ club less than half of what it started to out be. Stan tried hard not to cry, but failed. He reminded Richie of his pure hatred for him, wearing a sad smile throughout the entire conversation. Richie reciprocated the feelings through a range of different voices and inappropriate jokes to cover his sad heart.

Ben did not care to cry in front of the others. He sobbed until only hiccups fell from his lips. Mike, Eddie, and Richie held him as tears fell from their eyes, as well. Ben promised to call, but, like the others, the call never came.

Mike never moved, he simply just stopped showing up. He became solely focused on his farm work at home, trying to buy himself so he wouldn’t be reminded of the constant emptiness he felt. Mike was no longer scared of the gun or the power it held. He feared not of any bullies who might dwell on him due to his race or job, he feared only of the memories that seemed to be engraved on the inside of his eyelids.

Over a course of a long, lonely year, Richie and Eddie became reliant on each other. Although, the boys had always been close, they were now so close they no longer wore the title of ‘friends’ or even ‘best friends’. It was snowing outside when Eddie told Richie of his plans to move the following week. Richie remembered vividly of Eddie’s cold hands pressed upon his body, warm lips interlocked with his own. Richie could never unsee Eddie’s frail body writhing beneath him as they shared the most intimate of moments.

Eddie was being practically swallowed the morning of his moving day, his small frame swimming under the cozy fabric of Richie’s favorite sweater.

“You didn’t give souvenirs to the rest of them,” Eddie had pointed out.

“They weren’t you.” responded Richie.

Richie had his hands, itching to hold Eddie’s, buried down deep in his pockets. He turned his back to the Eddie as the latter mounted his bike, tears streaming down both of their cheeks. Richie remembered the loud crash as Eddie’s bike toppled over. He remembered Eddie calling out his name and embracing him in a desperately close hug.  

“Promise me this isn’t good-bye forever.” Eddie’s voice had stumbled out over a mountain of sobs.

This,” Richie had pinched the fabric of the sweater, “- if nothing else works, will be my excuse to come see you. There’s only one thing I love more than this sweater, and that’s you, Eds.”

“I don’t want us to end up like the others; they probably don’t even remember our names.”

Richie had his eyes closed, tears soaking into Eddie’s hair, “I swear to you, Eddie Kaspbrak, when I finally get out of this shithole, I’ll be right next to you, wherever you might wander off.”

Richie remembered the passionate kiss they shared - both trying to remind themselves that it would not be the last one.

Richie Tozier had never been very good at giving good-byes, but with the others, he managed. When it came to Eddie Kaspbrak, however, a good-bye was never exchanged. In it’s place, laid a hopeful ‘see you later.’

Waiting For Him

Hey guys! Listen, I’m in a really weird mood after a few things have happened recently and this is what’s coming out of it. I’ll try to get going on requests. I know that I’m taking 45 years on them. I’m not really sure what this is, but I hope you enjoy. 

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader 

Requested: Nope

Warnings: Swearing, angst(?) ((Idk what else to call this))

You laid in bed, moonlight bathing you in a soft silver glow that you couldn’t bring yourself to enjoy. Not anymore. Ever since Draco had left you to go with his parents, you found that you didn’t enjoy much. It also came to your attention that you spent most of your waking hours alone. Not always alone in the sense that there was no one around you, but alone in the sense that no one understood what you felt. Isolation. Being alone wasn’t really what bothered you though; it was the emptiness that you carried in your chest. 

Watching the night sky, you heaved a long sigh. Sometimes you were envious of the stars. They couldn’t feel empty or alone for they were simply stars. You rolled away from your open window, staring intently at the empty space next to you. Draco should be there, mumbling about how ‘his father would hear about this’ in his sleep. 

“I miss you,” You said. The open air took your words, devouring them so quickly that you weren’t entirely sure you’d said anything at all. 

“I hate you.” Again the words vanished. 

You rose from your bed, wondering vaguely what time it was. Probably late. Not that it mattered. You lived by yourself because you had some absurd notion that he would walk through your front door one day and slip into bed with you, just like he had back at Hogwarts. You padded into your living room and sat on the couch, listening calmly to the deafening silence. Nothing existed to fill that void for you. You looked around the room as though you didn’t see it everyday. 

It was plain, like no one really lived in it. The walls were a dusty grey, illuminated by the light of two white lamps sat on either side of a blocky, grey couch. No pillows rested on said couch. There were no pictures on the walls. There were no books on the little wooden coffee table, not even a magazine. The cool wood of the floor didn’t even have an area rug. Not even the windows had a speck of life. They were covered by blinds rather than curtains. It all looked so impersonal. For a reason only you seemed to understand, the room held all the warmth and comfort of a hospital waiting room. 

“You’re never coming back.” Hearing the words aloud stung. It made them real. 

Shaking your head, you laid back on the couch. The weight in your chest gave way to the usual emptiness. It throbbed in it’s usual dull ache somewhere in the very center. At first you’d thought someone had hollowed out your chest but, as usual, you realized it was only you curling loneliness. With that, you fell into a dreamless sleep. 

The next morning, you woke with a crick in your neck and a soft throb from the hole in your chest. You stretched. You wondered again what time it was, though you had no real way of knowing. You didn’t have a clock in your house. At some point, you’d stopped caring to know what time it was for the simple thought of it consumed you. 

“What am I waiting for?” It was a good question; one you’d been asking for years. 

That waiting was what gave you the emptiness in your chest, what hollowed out your insides, what make you get rid of your clocks. You knew the answer to the question, but you had no interest in answering it. 

A knock echoed through your home. Odd. Everyone you knew just walked in. You stared at the door as though it would open all on it’s own. It didn’t. Finally, you pulled yourself off the couch and opened it. There stood a tall blond with grey eyes and a haunted face. In front of you, stood Draco Malfoy. You blinked, wondering if you’d finally gone batty or if you were dreaming. 

“Hello,” He said. 

“Hi,” You responded. 

Draco watched you with tired eyes and you knew he was wondering how you would react. You just stared, stepping aside to let him in. He seemed startled by the way your place looked. 

“It’s been a long time,” He said as you took a seat on the couch. 

“It has.” Draco stood in the middle of the room like he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. 

“How are you, (Y/N)?” He asked. 

“Surviving, I suppose,” You sighed. He gave you a concerned look as he looked around the room. Your living room had a surprising effect on people, like a Dementor, it sucked happiness away. Life itself. 

“How long have you lived here?” You thought for a moment. 

“Since just after the battle,” You said.

“Oh.” His pale face creased in concern. You wondered if it was real. 

“You came back,” You noted emotionlessly. Finally, he sat next to you, clasping his hands in front of him and resting his elbows on his knees. 

“I have,” He said. You watched him. He looked just as beaten down and tired at sixteen as he did now. That was worrisome to you. You always hoped that he’d been better even if you hadn’t been. 

It was odd. Sometimes you told the air that you hated him and sometimes you told it that you loved him, but seeing him brought a certain kind of numbness that you’d only felt in dreams. It was pleasant. For once, you chest didn’t ache from the constant emptiness. The hole there seemed to have drawn itself nearly closed. Nearly. 

“Why?” With a nervous glance, he ran a hand through his hair. You noted that he didn’t keep it slicked back anymore. 

“I can’t exactly describe it,” He said. 


“I can’t!” He snapped, glaring at you fiercely. You didn’t even flinch. You’d known him long enough to know that his bark was much worse than his bite. 

“Are you empty too?” You asked. Somewhere in the back of your mind you thought you sounded like Luna. Grey eyes snapped up to meet yours with a look of surprise. They looked wet. 

Yes,” He said, relieved. It must have taken up a lot of his time thinking about what he felt. 

“I’ve been empty for a long time. It was like you took a piece of me with you the day you left,” You said, unsure of why you were telling him that. For a moment, he looked guilty. 

“I’m back,” He said, quietly. You turned to look at him fully, anger that you hadn’t felt for a long time flared. 

“Are you gonna take some more? Hollow me out a little more?” You hissed. He flinched and, as quickly as it came, you anger fled. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. There wasn’t any point in being angry. Or sad. There wasn’t much point in feeling at all. You shook your head. 

“I’m sorry,” Both of you said at once. 

A silence fell over the two of you. Not the deafening silence that you usually experienced, a nice one. You could hear his ragged breathing, like he was trying his best not to cry. No tears came to your eyes despite the feeling of your heart splitting in two for the second time in your life. Reaching out, you placed the very tips of your fingers against his cheek. Then you both broke down. Both of you began to sob as you fell into each other. You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat and cried, but he pressed you so tight to his chest you wondered if you’d just become one person. It seemed okay at that point. 

You looked up into his face. Draco was oddly beautiful when he cried. His eyes turned to a muted grey, the color one would see just before a storm over the ocean. You wondered what yours looked like. The paleness of his face seemed to have had life breathed into it, redness lingering in his cheeks. Tears glistened, making shiney paths down his face until they dripped off his clenched jaw. 

“I missed you,” You whispered. He pressed a cheek to the top of your head. 

“Merlin, (Y/N), I can’t even begin to explain how much I missed you,” He said. You buried your head in his chest, letting out a soft sob. 

“I hate you,” You said. He held you impossibly closer and nodded. 

“I do too,” He whimpered. You gripped the back of his shirt so hard you feared you’d rip it. You hated that he sounded that way. Pulling back, you looked up at him again. His eyes were brimming with tears again. 

“You were never coming back,” You said. A wave of pain washed over his face and he cradled your cheek. 

“Of course I was. I’m here, aren’t I?” He said, softly. You breathed a somewhat hysterical laugh. 

“I don’t know.” He stared at you. 

“Pardon?” You laughed again. 

“I don’t know. I’ve had this dream so many times and it was so real everytime, but I always wake up,” You said. He pulled you against his chest again and you offered little resistance. 

“I’m so sorry, love, merlin, I’m so sorry,” He mumbled into your hair. Your cheeks laid against his chest, feeling the warmth radiating through his shirt. 

“You’ve never said that before.” He stiffened, slightly. “This isn’t a dream. You’ve never been sorry before.” You knew he was staring straight ahead, trying to convince himself not to cry. 

“I’ve been sorry since I chose them over you,” He said. You placed a hand on his chest. It felt solid, just like always. 

“You can cry, you know,” You said, calmly. He pulled in a shaky breath. 

He didn’t say anything else, but you knew that he was crying again. Somehow, you felt satisfied. Not because he was crying, but because he was close to you again. You could smell his cologne. It was awful. Something about it make your lips hitch up into a little smirk. 

“You never changed your cologne. Still smells terrible,” You said, a hint of a laugh in your voice. 

“Only you would think to say something like that in a situation like this, darling,” He said. You detected a hint of a laugh behind his tears as well. You sat up fully, wiping his tears away with the pad of your thumb. He leaned into your hand almost as though he’d forgotten how your touch felt. Then again, you’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be held by him (or anyone else). 

“Are you gonna stay?” You asked. He turned his head, kissing the palm of your hand. 

“If you’ll have me,” He replied, his voice holding a nervous undertone.

“I didn’t wait this long just to kick you out.” He chuckled, the soft vibration moved across your skin. 

Slowly, you removed yourself from the couch and pulled him towards the bedroom. It was the only room in your place that looked like anyone had lived there. The walls were the same soft grey of the living room, but covered in pictures and the bed was a mess of (F/C) tossed around sheets. Draco smiled at it though, so you did too. 

“I’ve been staring at an empty bed for so long it’ll feel weird having someone next to me for once,” You said, slipping into it. 

“I know the feeling.” He got in next to you, turning so you both could look out the window. The sky was just beginning to darken. You’d spent a whole day crying with Draco. You took comfort in the fact that it was with him not over him. 

“What time is it?” He asked, warping an arm around you. 

“No clue. I don’t own a clock,” You said, relishing in the warmth of the body behind you. 

“What?” You smiled softly as you turned to face him. 

“I spent so much time staring at them that I just got rid of them,” You said. He sighed, but smiled. 

“Alright then, I suppose it doesn’t matter anyway.” You snuggled into him, placing your head just under his chin and listening to the gentle beating of his heart. 

After that, there was nothing more to be said. If this was a dream, you vowed that you wouldn’t wake up. If this was real, then you could bring yourself back into your usual swing. Either way, you just wanted to enjoy the feeling of being whole for the first time in a long time. 

Andre Burakovsky- homemade chicken noodle soup

Request:  could you do a imagine that you are andre burakovsky girlfriend and you’re sick and he take take care of you?

Author’s note: This one hit a little too close to home since I’ve been sick for two days now lol. Why can’t I have a beautiful boy take care of me???


Up next: Brady Skjei

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A/N: Here is my contribution to the Divas of Storytelling Challenge, hosted by @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid and @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian - congratulations on your celebrations and thanks for letting me participate! Also, my sincerest thanks to the lovely @rizlow1​ for beta’ing this for me!

My prompt songs were Shania Twain’s It Only Hurts When I’m Breathing and Mariah Carey’s We Belong Together. I used the first for the reader’s POV and the second for Dean’s. There are some lyrics quoted, most just adapted. I hope y’all like it - I’d like to hear your thoughts! And if you’d like to be tagged in my writings, just send me an ask or a message (replies sometimes slip my notice)!

Characters/pairing: Dean x reader

Words: 1458

Warnings: angst - all of it

Originally posted by lucifersagents

Dean saw her first.

It felt like a thunderbolt; the painful shock first and then every nerve in his body was tingling and humming. His eyes were glued to the familiar figure swaying with the music in front of the stage. He remembered how that body had fitted against him, what her soft and warm skin had felt like under his fingers. He saw her smiling, and remembered the tears that had streamed down her face the last time he saw her.

He wanted to run. To leave this nameless bar, this nameless town, just run. He knew he should have, but his feet were glued to floor, eyes fixed to the girl he had once called his.

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Texas Gothic: North Texas
  • There are flocks of screeching black birds at every intersection, but only in the dusty twilight hours. They sit like malignant blots on the grass, the power lines, the trees. Without warning they fly all at once, a great crying black cyclone that makes you want to cover your ears and pray. They settle again, like they never moved at all, and you wait for it to start again.
  • A school bus passes you, but it’s not time for them to be going to or from school. You look again, but you can’t see anyone inside. The bus turns down a side street you don’t remember being there a moment ago. You blink and the bus and street are both gone. In your rear view mirror you see another empty bus.
  • There is a construction zone. There is always a construction zone. You have never seen anyone working at a construction zone, but they are always there.
  • Every shop in the strip mall is for lease. Half the shops in the next are for lease as well. That building is for lease. You swear there was a restaurant there yesterday, but no more. That building is for lease. You went to that store just last week. That building is for lease. You begin to expect the constant emptiness of the buildings and strips.
  • The wind howls and howls and strange things appear in the street, in your yard. They’re blown away again in moments, but the memory of them stays like a sour taste in the back of your throat. You pray the wind stops, but you also dread it. No one knows what will happen if the wind stops.
Sidelines (A/F)

Originally posted by mvssmedia

Genre:- Angst ( A slight fluff in the end )
Word Count:- 2K
Warnings:- Mild swearing
Request:- “Can I request a tae imagine of him being your friend and then gets jealous because you keep going out to blind dates and then confesses his love for you, thank you.”

A/N:- this has been long overdue but we reached 400 followers and our recent projects(?) have been receiving so much love and I couldn’t be happier so thank you so much for your constant support!! I really hope you liked it! Even though there’s no actually human interaction I feel like voices are very intimate so I wanted to portray it here, I could make a second part with them meeting if you guys would like just request it!!

~Admin Dee

My mind is fuzzy, the last remnants of a dream being chased away by the realisation that I am awake again. It was a nice dream, something about sitting in a big oak tree in meadow full of flowers but the details are fading fast even as I try to recall them. With a mental sigh I allow my brain to focus and cautiously opened one eye. The bright shine of the moonlight cuts the room in half and I see the twinkling stars in the dark and beautiful airglow. “Why am I awake.” I mutter to myself as I pull the duvet up over my head to keep out the noise of my phone.

Unfortunately the noise doesn’t stop and my brain is awake, turning over and allowing my hand to peak out from the duvet and touch the side cabinets in search of the vibrating device that disturbed my sleep, after my hand wraps around my phone I shove the warm duvet to the side and sit up straight to then realize that the ringing has stopped, flipping my phone over I roll my eyes as I see the clock reading 4 AM and 7 missed calls from my stupid best friend, Kim Taehyung, before I can tap on the name and call him back he is already calling me again.

“Yah!.” he exclaims as soon as I answer his call, “ I’ve been calling you since forever why aren’t you answering my phone calls,”, he continues to say, “ If you haven’t noticed it’s 4am.” I retort to him with a displeased tone to showcase that I wasn’t happy with the fact that he disturbed my sleep, my retort must have awakened something in his brain because it was quiet for a few seconds before I heard his soft voice speak up, “ I’m sorry.”

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Everyone acts like people with NPD are heinous, selfish monsters that need to be avoided, lest we subject people to our most basic personalities. While there are abusers in any subtype of people, for the most part, people with NPD are primarily a danger and threat to themselves. Having NPD is:

- Second guessing everything you do to make sure you don’t look or seem too needy or dependent on a person 
- Feeling deeply humiliated and upset if someone seems to be avoiding you or attacking you
- Getting your only happiness from narcissistic supply (which is fleeting, btw) 
- Having superhuman standards for yourself and hating yourself for never meeting them
- Crying at 4 AM because you haven’t had the right kind of narc supply and you think that maybe suicide is the answer since clearly people don’t give a shit about you
- Never making the first move bc it’s too humiliating 
- Feeling strongly affronted if someone has a minor disagreement with you over an opinion
- Taking benzos and a variety of other drugs to suppress your self-hatred and destructive thoughts 
- Trying to compensate for your self hatred by pretending to have superior qualities to everyone around you and blaming them for not appreciating you in the way they should
- Becoming so traumatised by the tiniest rejection that you find it impossible to genuinely form any attachment to anyone and relying instead of shallow relationships and compliment
- Feeling broken bc there’s this constant emptiness that drugs, sex and superficial friendships and relationships can’t fill 
- Not being able to handle pity, so always acting superior so that no one notices how terrible you actually feel 
- Narc rage when someone gets something you think you deserve instead and when you have no control over a situation 
- Lying all the time and never being able to accept defeat (the mere idea makes me contemplate suicide) 
- Constantly feeling  inadequate, flawed, and inferior (tho we would never admit that, of course)
- Wanting love and success but never being able to access it in the way you need it 
- Either strongly hating or strongly loving something, no middle ground
- Feeling on the verge of a breakdown if someone you want isn’t texting you 
- Constant boredom, just to complement the emptiness 
- Knowing you deserve better, and becoming enraged when you don’t get it 
- Being obsessed with appearances - my nails, hair, eyebrows, body need to be perfect, I always need to be well groomed before I leave the house, and if I think I’m ugly I won’t be able to function for the day
- Wanting to die when you don’t achieve academic goals 
- Being unable to be alone 
- Building walls so no one gets close enough to truly understand you and use the info to destroy you
- being constantly on edge about everything 
- Anxiety 
- Depression that never gets treated 
- Narc lows that last for days on end

we don’t choose to have a mental illness, you do choose to categorise us as evil and subhuman. people with npd feel free to add your own points to the post. 

So today I finally sat with a psychologist who went through the criteria of symptoms for BPD and properly diagnosed me but also included me in the diagnosis.

It’s no new surprise that I do suffer from BPD but it was super nice to finally know, like for sure. And now we are going to be working on the main symptoms that have been the most damaging… I.e. My destructive behavior, toxic relationships and constant feeling of emptiness.

I just can’t appreciate my new psychologist and psychiatrist more. I achieved more in my first sessions with them than I have achieved since I first started seeing psyches when I was 15…

To anyone feeling like they aren’t being helped. Just keep looking. Don’t give up. You’ll find them. Do your own research. Don’t let GP’s pick them for you.

I feel…not good…

*sighs* so I haven’t been feeling all that great lately. My depression has been kicking in lately, so you get the gist. And some things that happened in life recently. I have no one around to listen..I’ve felt, alone….not because I really was but that whole feeling of it just makes it, worst, you know? It makes me think, will I always be alone? Am I just, never gonna be accepted anywhere? Like, here in this community, irl, anywhere…I mean I try, I really do but…no one seems to be able to see me
*sighs* I don’t know anymore…
Sometimes, I lie in bed for hours, not just cause I was lazy but because I always thought “what’s the point?”, and I would ask myself if there was a place where I could be seen, if there were people that actually find me interesting enough to be seen. Would people notice if I just up and left. Probably not…
I feel so alone most of the time, even if I’m around people or chatting with people I like on here, there’s just that constant empty feel…and I keep it all in till I just can’t anymore. I just feel like I don’t belong anywhere…online, irl, not even here, with all you talented people. Not even my favorite artists are able to cheer me up and it feels as if I can’t really feel…anything anymore…but just the constant reminder that I’m no one great…not even someone who’s just ok…


Perf: Awwww Q////Q *huggles* Hopefully your day gets better, dear. Sometimes its a matter of loving yourself first than waiting for someone to love you…We all feel this way a lot of times( I know I have ) but that doesn’t make us pointless. You’re not alone, dear. and you were never alone in struggles like this. It only takes a little courage to share what you’re feeling and you’d be surprise how many can relate to you. Sure there will be days when you feel lonely, but there will also be days when friends come on you will all have a splendid good time! Afterall, there’s no day in our lives when we don’t get to spend crazy fun times with friends! OwO POINT IS you will never be alone, you are worth something and you are GREAT, you just have to learn to accept that….Call me crazy but maybe that empty space which no one can ever fill out is…you, being happy and proud of yourself even if not everyone can. Only you can fill out that certain content if no one else can. We were brought here in this world, as ourselves because we are strong enough to live it! All it takes is to be proud! >//w//</  <3 

<3 <3 <3 <3 Also Blue is my favorite color QwQ so BONUS points to you, Sunshine! You gain EXTRA LUV! <3