[...See, this is why he wanted to have the goddamn quadrants talk, but noooo. Probably inappropriately, Psii gives a scowl. He can't understand humans. Is handholding not a thing people can do?]
[Okay, the current subject is going to have to be put on pause. He puts a gentle hand to TJ's arm to let him know he's not ignoring him before there's a brief flare up of psi against Amal's shoulder. Not enough to hurt anything- more like a finger flick, something to say "hey asshole pay attention".]
And you probably avoided talking about it becauthe it fucking blowth, right? No one wantsth to remember that, and-
[Dammit. He'd hoped he could avoid talking about his own issues, why this strikes so close to home for him, but he's going to have to go with it if he wants this to go anywhere. He takes a quiet deep breath before forging on. Maybe if he doesn't make it obvious he's speaking from personal experience, they can all ignore it. Right? Fingers fucking crossed.]
It maketh you feel like a fuckup, right? Here'th the one perthon you have who maketh everything feel thort of tentatively okay even for all the world hath gone to fuckall ath it relateth to you, who you can find a bit of quiet and happineth with, and then it getsth yanked from you because apparently you're not allowed to have nice thingth. It'sth not jutht that, 'tho, right?
Becauthe then fate or jutht thome prick with all the power you don't have grabth you by the head and rubth your face in it. They make you watch, they make you feel ill and powerleth and robbed, and you know it'sth only going to be worthe.
But time marcheth on, thingth thtart looking a little up for a while, only for it to come in like a wrecking ball to perthonally fuck up your life, and all that rage and mithery and helplethness cometh back- but what can you do, right?
You know you need to do thomething, but you have no idea what the fuck to do or even if you can do anything.
[It all comes out in a passionate ramble as he props himself up on one elbow, face flushing as he goes on and on. It's only when he stops to catch his breath does he really think about what he said. His shoulders go up awkwardly.]
...If I had to gueth, anyway. Lithten, if I have to come over there to force you into a cuddle between me and TJ, I will fucking make it happen, you pair of dithasters. Come on, talk.
no subject
[Okay, the current subject is going to have to be put on pause. He puts a gentle hand to TJ's arm to let him know he's not ignoring him before there's a brief flare up of psi against Amal's shoulder. Not enough to hurt anything- more like a finger flick, something to say "hey asshole pay attention".]
And you probably avoided talking about it becauthe it fucking blowth, right? No one wantsth to remember that, and-
[Dammit. He'd hoped he could avoid talking about his own issues, why this strikes so close to home for him, but he's going to have to go with it if he wants this to go anywhere. He takes a quiet deep breath before forging on. Maybe if he doesn't make it obvious he's speaking from personal experience, they can all ignore it. Right? Fingers fucking crossed.]
It maketh you feel like a fuckup, right? Here'th the one perthon you have who maketh everything feel thort of tentatively okay even for all the world hath gone to fuckall ath it relateth to you, who you can find a bit of quiet and happineth with, and then it getsth yanked from you because apparently you're not allowed to have nice thingth. It'sth not jutht that, 'tho, right?
Becauthe then fate or jutht thome prick with all the power you don't have grabth you by the head and rubth your face in it. They make you watch, they make you feel ill and powerleth and robbed, and you know it'sth only going to be worthe.
But time marcheth on, thingth thtart looking a little up for a while, only for it to come in like a wrecking ball to perthonally fuck up your life, and all that rage and mithery and helplethness cometh back- but what can you do, right?
You know you need to do thomething, but you have no idea what the fuck to do or even if you can do anything.
[It all comes out in a passionate ramble as he props himself up on one elbow, face flushing as he goes on and on. It's only when he stops to catch his breath does he really think about what he said. His shoulders go up awkwardly.]
...If I had to gueth, anyway. Lithten, if I have to come over there to force you into a cuddle between me and TJ, I will fucking make it happen, you pair of dithasters. Come on, talk.