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#and i hope you heal
myneurospicyspirit · 5 months
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I just realized that if someone who "doesn't have trauma" scripts in traumatic events so they can be cared for by their comfort character, then they might have more trauma than they realize...
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ever loved someone you couldn't have?
Yes. I think we’ve all been burned by love once or twice anon. It’s the beauty of being human.
What I did to move on was question why I felt like I loved this person. What were they offering me that made me feel this connection? Once I figured out what that was, I went ahead and gave it to myself.
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hansoeii · 9 months
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look at you, you're gorgeous!
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sunlitsoil · 1 month
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there is always tomorrow
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jkvjimin · 17 days
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light of my life 🤍 for @kimtaegis [cr. namuspromised]
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tomlinsun · 2 years
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if looks could kill
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colourofmagic · 19 days
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captain sunshine and the best backliner in ncaa exy ☀️
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 2 months
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Today in awful pain due to cramps, but ended up laughing and cheered up because I said aloud, “My tummy hurts and it’s Wei Wuxian’s fault!”
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There he is! That's the man that made your tummy hurt!!!
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dirk-menace · 1 year
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NO BUT THEY FUCKING MET AGAIN
does Tumblr have only two (2) fandoms ever how did this happen
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@autismswagsummit @autismswagreblogs
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dimeadozencows · 3 months
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This came to me in an early morning queer haze
Kissing my medics good morning (I am your husband heavy and I love you)
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stil-lindigo · 5 months
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For the past 10 weeks, there’s been weekly rallies for Palestine in Naarm/Melbourne and the government’s claim that protest like this needlessly divides Australia is such bullshit. These rallies are one of the most diverse collections of people I’ve ever seen. Indigenous elders, Palestinian students, queer teens and adults from all walks of life. I saw an old Chinese grandma here a few weeks ago with a Palestinian flag stitched onto her sunhat. At another rally, a girl had come with her service dog - on his harness she had fixed a pin of the Palestinian flag. A prominent re-occurring chant is “ From the river to the sea / Always was, always will be” which combines Palestine’s call for freedom with an affirmation of Aboriginal people’s continuing sovereignty of Australian land.
Today in the rally, the speakers emphasised the value of not losing sight of Palestinian freedom during Christmas “festivities”. If the birthplace of Jesus Christ himself is under siege, what else is Christmas but a capitalist joy fest of consumerism?
This is not to say you can’t still celebrate, but do it responsibly. Observe the rules of BDS, observe the general strike on the 18th. Be more than a convenient idiot this holiday season.
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conjuring-ghouls · 5 months
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There was no need for him to look this good. (video by ghuleh.on.a.cross on ig)
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canisalbus · 5 months
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I've been following you for years, and I love your art. Seeing you repost your older art pieces reminded me how much I loved the angry, bitter, miserable Machete art and how it resonated with me... but a part of me is also so happy to see the current art of him being happy. Cute art of him as a unicorn, or chilling in a bathtub with Vasco. Like, we're all growing and healing :')
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thatgothsamurai · 5 months
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I used to scent these flowers constantly💮💮
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steddieas-shegoes · 18 days
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cw: mentions of scarring, canon-typical violence, flashback (not graphic), minor body horror (again, not graphic, mostly just emotional feelings about scars)
♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️
Everyone gave him weird looks when they walked in, quickly schooling their features when they noticed he was awake and watching them.
He didn’t know exactly what that was about.
They had him on a lot of good drugs.
But eventually he got weaned off them, and he noticed the pull of bandages on his side, and his arm, and his neck, and his face.
He was still unable to get out of bed. Still couldn’t even reach his arms above his chest for more than a few seconds.
But he damn sure reached up to feel the cloth and plastic surrounding his cheek. How had he not noticed for days? How had no one bothered him about it?
Maybe they had and he just didn’t notice. The morphine was one hell of a drug.
Wayne was soft, patient with him. Saw him touching it, saw the way his eyes filled with tears. He’d never been particularly vain, hadn’t cared much about what he looked like to others, but this felt bigger than that. This felt like he was changed in a way that everyone could see.
Add it to the list of things people could bully him for.
He cried himself to sleep, Wayne’s hand in his, silently comforting in the way he’d always done.
When he woke up again the next morning, he was alone.
It was the first time he’d been alone since the boathouse.
He could swear he heard bats outside his door, screams coming from the attached bathroom, flashes of someone dying on the ceiling.
He felt the sharp sting of teeth puncturing his skin.
He felt hopelessness creep into his bones as he gave in.
Maybe this time they would finish the job.
“Eddie!”
Steve Harrington’s voice broke through the thoughts, panicked enough to bring Eddie back to his hospital bed within a second of hearing it.
“Shit, are you okay?” He continued, hand brushing against Eddie’s bandaged cheek.
Eddie nodded once, closed his eyes, leaned into the touch.
He could blame it on any number of things if Steve felt weird about it. The morphine, the flashback, the loneliness.
“You’re okay, Eddie. I promise. Won’t let anything happen to you,” Steve whispered.
Eddie believed him.
He fell back asleep with Steve’s hand gently cupping the mangled side of his face.
If Steve could still touch him there, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
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Steve came by every day, sometimes in the early morning, before visiting hours officially started, sometimes well after Wayne had left to get some sleep. He always smiled when he walked in, a genuine one, not the one everyone else gave that was so fully of pity and pain he couldn’t bear to make eye contact. He sat down on the side of the bed, not the chair like everyone else, not scared to be close.
And every single day, without fail, he would run his finger along the edge of Eddie’s bandage on his face, watching his own movements and cataloging any changes.
Eddie sat quietly, still, scared to put words to anything happening. Scared to tell Steve what it meant to him to have someone acknowledge his pain in this way. Scared to think Steve could mean anything by it.
It was easy to pretend Steve was doing this because he cared.
Maybe he did care.
But he didn’t care the way Eddie wanted him to, needed him to.
So he stayed quiet, still.
He watched.
He fell asleep while Steve talked about his day, the kids, what Joyce made Hopper do around the house.
He woke up alone most days, but that was okay, because Steve would be there eventually.
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“You ready to get that thing off?” Wayne asked, gesturing to the bandage.
“Oh. Today?” Eddie suddenly didn’t want to ever be without the bandage. Removing it meant he’d see what was under it.
It meant seeing how much that place had ruined him.
The pull of the stitches hadn’t been as obvious with the pull of the bandage masking it.
But now it’s all he felt.
The nurse smiled at him as she put some antibiotic cream over the area, saying he would probably still have to keep it extra clean for the next week or so while the stitches did their job.
Wayne smiled at him in the way that meant he didn’t really want to smile at all, but knew Eddie needed him to.
Steve didn’t come.
Eddie didn’t sleep.
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He woke up with panic in his chest and a silent scream in his throat.
He woke up with Steve’s hand on his face.
Gentle, soft, but a strong comfort.
“Promise I washed them first. They said we have to be careful about germs,” Steve said quietly.
“You don’t have to. I know it’s…it’s gross. It’s ugly. I’m ugly.”
Steve shook his head. “No. Not gross. Not ugly. Alive.”
“Steve-“
“You’re alive, Eddie. You could have your entire face held together by staples and you would still be a miracle. You’d still be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Well, Steve’s charm wasn’t an exaggeration, was it?
He wasn’t even sure if the skin barely pulled together could blush anymore, or if the heat that should be on his cheek was burning on the outside the way it felt like it was on the inside.
“It’s gonna be awful when it heals. I saw it in the mirror.” Eddie could feel every stitch in his jaw, the few that spread across the corner of his mouth and bottom lip, the ones that were nearly up to his ear. “I’ll always have a crooked face. The scar will always be huge. It’s all anyone will see.”
“Then they aren’t looking.”
Eddie bit his lip, eyes searching Steve’s. “But you are.”
“No. I’m seeing. There’s a difference. I see you. I see what you’ve survived. I see the mark it left on you. I know it wasn’t just the scars that cover your skin.” Steve leaned his head down, touching Eddie’s forehead with his own. “We all have them. And we’re all still here. Your heart’s beating. That’s all that matters to me.”
“Who knew you were so good with words?” Eddie smiled sadly.
“Robin says I’m just good at not having a filter.”
“She’s right as always.” Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist, turning as slowly as he could to kiss his palm. “You’re not scared of it.”
“No. Are you?”
“I’m scared that you’ll change your mind when it’s always there as a reminder of what happened.”
Steve kissed his nose, making him smile for the first time in what felt like years.
“I’ll have the reminder that I got you out of there. That no matter what, the bats couldn’t finish the job. That you were stronger and you made it.” Steve let his hand drop, but quickly laced his fingers with Eddie’s. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you to trust me, but will you? For today?”
“Just today?”
“I’ll ask again tomorrow.”
“And what? Every day after that?”
Steve smirked.
His eyes were glistening with tears, but Eddie could tell it wasn’t sadness or fear.
“If that’s what I have to do.”
They hadn’t even talked about feelings, not really. Nothing that made any sense to Eddie, nothing that they could define. A part of Eddie was still convinced he was in a coma and dreaming this entire conversation up.
But even the nurse had noticed the way Steve watched him, how he touched him, how he fought for him. She said he’d been a firecracker from the moment he carried him into the hospital, dripping blood on the tile, staining the halls with his demands for help.
Wayne said he barely left his side the first day, only doing so when the doctors had told him they would call the cops if he didn’t.
Erica even noticed how things had changed between them, stating that she refused to watch her babysitter and the only DM she had respect for make out.
But Steve held Eddie, made him feel like he could get out of the hospital bed and live a life that wouldn’t keep him running. Steve was there.
Steve might even love him. If not now, then some day.
And Eddie could trust him today.
He could probably trust him tomorrow.
“Kiss me?” Eddie probably shouldn’t. The stitches tugged when he talked, and another mouth anywhere near his wounds was just asking for an infection.
But Steve would be careful. He knew what Eddie could handle.
It was barely a kiss. A graze of the lips at most.
But it was the best kiss Eddie had ever had.
At least until tomorrow.
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lulady030 · 1 year
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Gotta stay positive, right ?! Smiles all around !
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