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#i really need therapy
straight4joekeery · 1 year
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Teach Me How To Love In Your Own Lyrics
(Part 10)
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Once again, the adrenaline (among other things) was running through their veins. This show was particularly nerve-racking, after his little speech. Now, he wasn’t 100% sure, but he didn’t think Steve was here. Plus, he probably would have spotted a polo amongst all the leather. Robin, on the other hand, was here. She had the tendency to run her mouth a bit, so even if Steve wasn’t here, he’d know what he had said. Which was scary. But it didn’t matter. Even if it did, he had said it first. As he approached the last song, he started to really hope he wasn’t here. God. Who writes a song about someone, makes it popular, and doesn’t even tell the person? Creepy. He knew Steve would catch on immediately if he heard it. As he strummed the last note and everyone said their little ending bit, he ran. He was excited. Mainly nervous. But very excited.
“Dude, try to stay on the ground, okay?” He’d been bouncing up and down while carrying their stuff to the bus.
“Sorry, just excited.”
“We could tell. Now go put this up,” Jeff said, handing him a speaker, “then you can find your lover.” Normally, Eddie would make a comment or roll his eyes, but he currently did not have the time. He sprinted (probably the fastest he’s ever gone on foot in his life) to the bus and set the speaker down. He paced to the front of the bus to grab the gift bags and his personal bag, and fled. He walked back and forth looking for someone he knew. Steve, Robin, Vickie, literally anyone who looked like they didn’t belong at a metal concert. He tried to stay closer to the back of the building, so he wouldn’t get harassed. Fortunately, only one girl noticed him.
“Eddie!” Someone yelled from behind him. He immediately knew the voice.
“Robin!” He spun around and ran towards her. He wasted no time (besides setting down the bags as carefully as humanly possible) in giving her a bone-shattering hug.
“That was amazing!”
“Thanks!” He said pulling away, “Wow. I’m back. I am so happy to be back.”
“We’re happy for you to be back!” It took him a moment for him to process the “we”. As in someone else was here. He turned around to see Steve. And oh my lord. No wonder he didn’t spot him. At this point, he was just shamelessly gawking at the man. He looked… hot. He looked really hot.
He slowly approached him, like he would disappear if he moved too quickly. Steve giggled at the reaction, “Hi Eddie.” Yep. He’s real. Good. He practically tackled him as wrapped his arms around the other man’s neck.
“Hi,” he backed up for a split second to admire him. “I’m so glad you came. I missed you.”
“Really?” Steve whispered.
“Yeah really,” he said, moving away (for real this time).
“Well, I’m glad you’re here too.”
“Jesus Christ, get a room,” Robin rolled her eyes walking around them. She turned around when she noticed they weren’t following, “You want a place to sleep tonight or not?” she said, jingling Steve’s keys.
“Woah! Nope. Not happening. Give them to me,” he said, running to her and reaching for the keys. Eddie grabbed his bags and followed behind.
“Wasn’t going to. Just wanted you to hurry up,” she said, throwing the keys directly at his face (which with some miracle, he caught).
“Hey, Robin? Where’s Vickie?”
“Sick,” she said, giving Steve the weirdest smirk. There’s a story behind that, he knows. He doesn’t want to dig for it though. They all decided to skip to the car (bad idea by the way. Every single one of them fell at least once) to entertain themselves. Once they made it, Eddie immediately sprawled out in the backseat.
Since Steve was driving, he figured he could give Robin his little gift now. “Oi! Duck beak!”
“That’s a new one. How creative,” she said flatly, “yes Edison?”
“Here,” he said, tossing the bag gently to the passenger seat. He watched as Robin slowly opened it, glancing back at Eddie every 5 seconds.
“Oh. Thanks?” He saw a hoodie with a rainbow on it when he was in Seattle, and immediately bought it for her. Steve glanced over and bursted out laughing.
“Y’a know, when I saw it I knew I had to get it for you. I feel like it really represents you as a person,” he said while making dramatic hand gestures.
“Ah,” she sighed before breaking out in a huge grin, “it’s so truly lovely. Thank you, Eddie.”
“My pleasure birdie. And Steve I do have something for you so don’t get all jealous. I do not advocate distracted driving.” It was nice. The faint music coming from the radio, the breeze going through his hair as he rested his head against the car door, and the presence of Steve and Robin. It was nice being with them again. He missed this. “So what did y’a do when I was gone? Let’s see, on a scale of one to ten how much did you guys miss me?”
“About a twelve,” Steve said at exactly the same time as robin said, “easy, negative twenty five .”
“Aww, thanks Stevie,” Steve’s face twisted in a really weird smirk, grin, I’m-trying-really-hard-not-to-cry thing that Eddie honestly didn’t want to know what meant. “And Robin, wow, really know the way to make a man feel good.”
He spent the rest of the ride rambling (Robin style) about his shows. He beamed at every little detail of the tour so far. (“I swear! She was there! Phone Cates in the flesh!” “There’s no way. Because if you did I’d have an autograph in my hand right now.” “Yeah and if we even believed you for a second you would be sleeping on the streets tonight and you know it,” Robin added.)
“Here we are!,” Steve announced as they pulled up to their house. They all hopped out of the car and walked (in Robin’s case, skipped again, because absolutely nothing could go wrong) to the door.
“Damn Buckley, I really believed that you’d change that wallpaper by the time I got back. Tsk tsk,” Eddie sighed as they walked into the house. Their wallpaper wasn’t that bad. It only was used in the walkway (which was barely four feet). It was a deep blue with white specs that were supposed to be stars.
“What’s wrong with the wallpaper?,” Robin gasped “The old lady who lived here was, like, super into ‘witchy stuff’, and said it brought good luck for whatever reason,” she turned around and held out her hand, “She took one look at my palm and told me that I was going to die in a quote ‘very interesting and eventful way’. So that's fun I guess.”
“Super fun,” Steve muttered as he pushed her through the entryway.
“Awww,” Robin said looking at the couch. They looked over to see Vickie dead asleep on the couch, with a cat (oh my god is this little thing, Ozzy?!?!) on top of her. He didn’t know why she thought it was cute, she was snoring. Loudly (that is very hypocritical coming from him). “If either of you wakes her, or the cat, you will not live to see another day.”
“Dude it’s my cat,” he walked over to the couch slowly and tried to take the cat.
“Steven,” Roin hissed, “Don’t. You. Dare.”
“Jesus, sorry,” he muttered, “That's not even my name.”
“Hey, uh, Robin?” Eddie whispered.
“Yes, Edward?”
“Also not my name. but, um, wasn’t I supposed to sleep on the couch?”
“Oh. Yeah. you can crash with steve. Or me I guess if you really want. But fair warning I will probably kick you. Several times. Repeatedly. You will be-”
“I think I get the memo, Rob. I'll sleep with Steve, it's fine.” He realized his poor wording when
Steve choked on air. “Is that so?” Robin raised her eyebrows.
“No! I’m not going to sleep with Steve! I meant I was going to sleep in bed with Steve. Wait- no. I was going to go to sleep while Steve also slept. In the same bed.” Steve was bright red, and he knew he probably was too. Robin just stared at him with a wide grin. He groaned, “Nevermind. I am going to bed. Whether Steve follows is up to him,” he said waving a hand at him.
He walked into the room and set his things down. He could hear Steve and Robin trying to quietly argue, so he quickly changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt while he had the room to himself. He felt like he needed to do something to pass the time or he was going to go insane. He grabbed his stuff and started digging through it. He reached for Steve’s gift and set it on the bed next to him, then continued to search. He finally landed on a pack of wet wipes and moved to the standing mirror. He started (very aggressively for no reason other than he thought it would make it go by faster) removing his eye makeup. He always ends up smearing it somehow all over his face, just making it worse. 12 wipes later, his face was back to its natural beauty. He then proceeded to look himself up and down (full head nod and everything) at least 15 times. He looks like a rat. A literal rat. And oh no, Steve can not see him like this. He tossed and ran his fingers through his hair until it looked halfway (keyword: halfway) decent. He smiled at himself in the mirror, straightening his clothes trying to make himself look presentable. As he was doing so, he realized he hadn’t brushed his teeth today. At all. He breath checked in his hand and Jesus Christ. He could hear the two settle down outside the room so he didn’t have time to do anything. Unless…? He ran to his bag and grabbed the first thing he thought could work. Which happened to be perfume (shut up, cologne smells absolutely horrid and it will be going nowhere near his body). He uncapped it as he heard Steve approach the door. He panicked and sprayed it directly into his mouth. ohmygodohmyGODjesusfuckingchrist that burns like a bitch. He threw the bottle down and sprung up as Steve walked in.
“...Hi?”
“Are you okay?” Steve said, slowly approaching him. Wow. kinda unfair that this man can just walk up to him looking like that while he looks like a RAT.
“Yup mhm never better,” he said, red-eyed. “How have you been?” he said in an attempt to change the topic.
“Alright, I guess. Lonely.” He sounded so sad. He wished he could just kiss him square on the mouth.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. it's not your fault. Plus, I guess having a hypothetical cat has helped,” he giggled. He blushed and looked at the ground before stepping closed to Eddie, “Hey, I, uh, really really loved that song. Invisible man right?”
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. You don’t have to say that. It was super weird of me to do, and I didn’t even tell you! Way out of line. I feel horrible Turing your confession into a song Steve I’m really-”
“Stop. I meant it. It was- beautiful honestly. Really poetic too. Im kinda honored,” he blushed, “It’s also a great ego booster to know I was inspiration for a top selling song.” Thirteen actually. Thirteen songs based off this man. (4 of which were written purely about his ass.)
“I need that on an award or something. ‘Eddie Munson is so cool and poetic’- Steve Harrington, 1993”
“Now that’s a bit of a stretch,” he grinned, “Oh right! I have something for you,” he walked over and opened the small closet to pull out a bag.
Oh. Steve hadn’t even left yet he bought him a gift. He pointed at his chest, “For me? Really?”
“Yes really. Here open it,” he said, placing the bag in front of him on the bed.
“Wait, here,” he turned around and grabbed Steve’s gift, “For you kind sir,” he said bowing down.
He laughed and grabbed the bag, “Why thank you!”
“You should go first. It’s stupid and I honestly don’t think you’ll like it.”
“Doubt it,” he sat on the bed next to Eddie and took the tissue paper out of the bag. He had gotten him a bunch of patches for his vest.
“I know it’s dumb. I got one at every stop on the tour because they all had them for some reason. I just saw one and remembered seeing the vest one day at your house and thought, ‘hey maybe Steve wears it cause why else would he have kept that nasty jacket’, and here you are so you know-”
“Eddie,” he shushed him. He was beaming at the gift and looked like he was on the verge of tears. “I really love it, thank you.” Steve held his arms out and wrapped him in a tight hug. This is what he really missed. Steve’s presence. His warmness. The way anytime he walked into a room he immediately felt happy. Like he could breathe again.
“Uh yeah of course. It suits you, by the way.”
“Yeah?” Steve whispered pulling back.
“Definitely,” he grinned. “I’m really loving this whole look,” he winked.
“I hoped so. Robin convinced me to go ‘further out than normal’, you know? I mean like with the fake ear piercing and stuff,” he said gesturing to the stick-on gemstones on his face.
“What do you mean ‘than normal’?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Oh, I guess I- uh- dress like this sometimes. To go to bars and stuff.”
“Damn Steve, you’ve been holding out on me.”
“Lucky for you, I kinda like it. Now, I believe it’s your turn,” he pushed the gift even closer to him, “and please be honest with me. If it’s too much or too weird let me know and we can act like this never happened.” He gave Steve a questioning look before grabbing the first item on top (which by the way, first?? There are way too many gifts in here. Now he feels horrible. This man is way too good for him).
When he pulled it out it was a smaller bag. “Hmm let me guess, is it another bag?” he said while he pulled the drawstrings.
“Shut up and open it.” Inside the bag was a pick. It was painted with a wide variety of colors and what looks like an attempt to draw a dragon.
He laughed to try to cover up the fact that he was probably about to cry, “Stevie, it’s amazing. Very beautiful, you should be an art teacher.”
“Thanks, I’ll talk to the principal.” Eddie laughed and stared at the ceiling to blink back his tears (which if he was completely honest, were still partly from the perfume). “Dude, don’t get all mushy, this is only the first one.”
“Yeah, yeah it’s only going to get worse from here.” He reached down into the bag and pulled out a mixtape. He flipped it over and read Steve’s track list on the back. “Oh Harrington, these songs are… horrendous,” he looked over at him with a smirk.
“I know you love it,” he said leaning closer and returning the smirk.
He sighed, “I do. Thank you.”
“Mhm,” he nodded back at the bag.
“You spoil me, man.”
“You deserve it.” Jesus. Okay, now he’s blushing. Like an embarrassing amount. The next item he pulled out was a ring tray, which had also been beautifully painted. “That goes with the next gift,” he pointed at the bottom of the bag.
He looked in the bag and saw that it was a ring box. A very expensive-looking ring box. He pulled it out and held it in his hand, “you proposing already?”
“Nah, feel like I should wait ‘til at least the second date for that.”
“Are you asking me out? And already promising a second. Wow. Power move,” he joked. Because that’s all he could do right?
Steve blushed, “if that’s okay, yeah I am.”
Is this real life? He pinched himself before wincing. Yep. Real. Wow. “Uh- yeah of course. I’d really like that.” He smiled.
“Good,” Steve reached forwards and opened the box inside Eddie’s hands. The ring was absolutely beautiful.
“Steve- I- I don’t know what to say,” he stuttered, “it’s perfect. I love it.” I love you. He was definitely crying now. Every last detail of the ring and the man that gifted it was perfect. In every way, shape, and form.
“Here,” Steve said, taking the ring from Eddie and grabbing his hand, “we should finish this proposal off right.” He slid the ring onto Eddie’s finger (and he wasn’t, couldn’t be, disappointed that it wasn’t the ring finger). He looked at the ring on his hand before intertwining their fingers.
“Stevie,” he shook his head in disbelief.
“Ed’s?” Steve said, using his free hand to tuck Eddie’s hair behind his ear.
He couldn’t find words. He was totally blanking. He just nodded like a fool before leaning in. And he kissed him. He really, finally did. It was… magic. It was the only word that he ended up finding. It was fucking magical. Time all of a sudden wasn’t right for him. It was either too fast in the moment or really slow. Either way, he’d never know. Magic.
When they pulled away, he just shook his head again. “What toothpaste do you use?”
“What?” He asked, brain still foggy from everything that just happened.
“You taste good.” Jesus Christ. This man doesn’t have a filter. Way to kill a man my god. (If this was how he died, he’d be pleased.)
“That I will never tell.” These two weeks would not go by fast enough.
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Next
Another Eddie pov! Oh em goodness we did it. The happy little gay boys smooched. Yip yip. Is this part shorter or longer than normal? Honestly can’t tell. Thank you soso much for reading this (you’ve made it a long way, congrats ig). Ik i said I’d write another fic but honestly I don’t feel like it. But I’d love to see it written so hmu if your down with writing a crappy fic idea <3 lastly three rules of this fic: one- we don’t talk about how different the indentations are. I regret putting them in the first place, but I can’t just stop now or I’ll go insane :). Two- I am aware I overuse italicizations. Three- there is probably so many grammar and spelling errors to the point I don’t even care anymore. anyways y’all comment or reblog if you want to be tagged. I’m sorry if I didn’t tag you just lmk and I’ll add you to the list!
Tag list: @asbealthgn @queerbeansworld @bird-with-pencils @vecnuthy @artiststarme (ty for being amazing <3 u) @captain-winter-wolf-aehs @piningapplewitch @rowendyss @steve-themom-harrington @lfaewrites @azreadytodie @thequeenrainacorn @pastel-dreamscape @importanttimemachinenerd @jehneeg @swagaliciousmarie @mightbeasleep @krazyperson @milkshakeflowercreator @fando-random @bumblebeecuttlefishes @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @fluffyreturns @scheodingers-muppet @wonderland-girl143-blog @briceslayed @youaremylobster @juststeddiebrainrot @pr3ttyb0yindie @scarlet-pandrian @drips-from-breaking-bones @plasticcrotches
Jesus that’s a lot of people I’m honestly concerned
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linh-cindy · 1 year
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Linh Cinder in amber safety and Cress Darnel in rhythm!
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Tags:
@kaider-is-my-otp
@kaiderforever
@opakitty
@winterrhayle
@gingerale2017
@impossiblesuitcase
@thetlctrash
@cindersassasin
@septembersart
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black-berryies · 2 years
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OKAY! I’ve got a lot to say! I was so excited, how the Dream-Wilbur lore will be continued and I wanted them to be best friends! I saw so many fanarts and fanfictions and even more fanarts and then… we got this… whatever that is… ( yes, I counted it, Dream died 9-10 times from Wilburs fists) I even started an animation with Dream and Wil as the main characters but now I can throw it all away! And then I just sat on my bed, covered my face with my hands and was rethinking my life choices…BUT I STILL WANT TO KNOW WHAT’S WRITTEN IN THAT [LANGUAGE] BOOK! And then I realised, we have too many suicide problems…: Tubbo was ready to die, Ranboo was depressed and killed himself, Tommy was depressed and almost killed himself, Dream throw himself into the lava multiple times, Wilbur was okay with being murdered or murder himself, Fundy jumped off the platform to death… NO, I’M NOT TALKING TOO MUCH OVER IT! I just can’t handle it anymore ._.
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conankrow · 1 year
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truly need someone to beat the shit out of me to see if it hurts the way Jigsaw did that one night of 2022
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chromo-c · 1 year
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so I just realized Yuta with long black hair reminds me of Sirius Black
am I mentally unstable or am I mentally unstable and obsessed dead gay wizards from the 70's
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!!!
pls tell me I'm not crazy
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possibly-pasta · 3 days
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the visceral feeling of shame mixed with gratitude i get when i accept help is just astounding
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agentmurtsegway · 28 days
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first day of therapy:
*hands kin list to therapist*
"do you know any of these characters"
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s-kully · 1 month
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nearly every night I dream of a baby. more details with each dream. I remember feeling the warmth of holding it. last night, it laughed the sweetest laugh I ever heard. I remember it's tiny hands reaching up for me.
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prickynicky · 1 year
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Randomly depressed. Lovely. At least I have a therapy appointment in 2 days. Don’t have anything else to write, but I wanna type more with this stylus. It’s fun
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inkskinned · 10 months
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he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.
except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?
at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.
except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.
about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.
he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.
#i used to think it was romantic too and then i was like. now i see it as a HUGE red flag#writeblr#it is also almost EXCLUSIVELY said by immature ppl who think this is normal#fyi even if u think it's funny and ur like 'im an introvert it's just TRUE' like. you need therapy (ily tho)#healed introversion is just ''i would prefer to be by myself'' not ''i hate every person'' ... hate is not normal. that is not healthy#im sorry. i know it feels accurate. but if you're walking around with that kind of rage....#1. you're making a LOT of assumptions about every single person u have ever met. which is often unfair and unkind#and also usually involves judging people based on their worst moments or little mistakes#2. you are being unfair to the person who is ur ''exception''#3. there is a VAST difference between ''ur my favorite person'' and ''the ONLY person i like.''#idk i think this is just a personal bias thing tbh#im sure there are people who have this experience normally#but i have YET to find a man who thinks like this and ISNT absolute DOGSHIT. although tbh.... like. im sure he exists#when u hit like 30 some of the things that were once kind of hot now just sound fucking exhausting. like ''im in a band''#edit in the tags: i used to kind of be like this too. but the thing is that like. my life became so much more peaceful#once i started believing that people are generally good. like yes i am mad at the world at large#but it's just.... a very hard way to live. you're not a bad person or wrong for the ways other people hurt you and taught you to be angry.#but that anger will continue to hurt YOU. it will punish YOU. it will prevent YOU from making new deep connections. it will protect you yes#but it will also cause MASSIVE blowback. bc if you lose the One Person... your life will fall apart. i know this personally.#i really recommend just trying to be... cautiously optimistic instead. like. yes#people can be horrible and cruel and there are some communities (incels for example) that aren't worth that optimism#but i think like... most people will hold a door for you . most people want to help you find your wallet .#i hope one day you are able to find peace. i hope that rage eventually smooths over. i know how hard it is PERSONALLY#and i know what must have happened to you. and im deeply deeply sorry we share the same wound.#but i promise - sometimes we all need someone else to help us carry the weight. eventually the rage has to die so that we can let help in#i had to spend years biting at outstretched hands. i still often do. im still very wary . and my heart breaks that you flinch too.#here's the thing: i don't blame you. but we were both acting out of fear and pain. .... not out of healthy behavior. and ... change#was needed. i needed change too. rage was useful for a while. then it just left me isolated and bitter. i had to (with effort)#choose to let that rage go. and let people in . VERY SLOWLY THO LOL
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monorayjak · 1 year
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My life rn
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vrell-is-not-alone · 1 year
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#17: With a Whimper
My mind has always had an affinity for my own death, and now is no different. As stress piles on and hopelessness rises, it becomes stronger and stronger. I didn’t exactly have a favorable starting condition for this kind of thing either. My mother had suicidal tendencies growing up. There was a few times that I had to beg her to not do anything. I was just a kid. Talking down someone who should be my caretaker from killing herself. While at the same time she blames me as one of the main reasons she wanted to do it in the first place. You know, the type of thing that can mess up adults. Let alone a young kid. I may not remember much, but I distinctly remember that happening. I was also conditioned from a young age to believe that things can’t really get better. School was rough for me to the point that I became suicidal for the first time in early middle school. No matter what I tried, noone would help me. There was nowhere for me to go. Nothing I could do. And the adults around me didn’t do shit either. All they did was drug me up so I wouldn’t feel much. What does this tell a kid? Well, it told me that there is no fixing things. Things won’t get better. That I have to just suck it up and take it. I have largely accepted these facts. That I will never be someone important or interesting. That I will only be wanted for the utility I can provide, and discarded once that is gone. That all my value is predicated on servicing others. Some people in my life are trying to change that. But those lessons were beat in through years and years of trauma. They will take a long time to purge, if they ever do get altered or removed from me. And in the meantime, they sit and scratch at me. They drive my decisions and opinions towards myself and the world. And honestly, I think a fitting end to the story of someone like that would be the great backup plan. The things that lets them go out on their own terms, free the world of being burdened by them, escape their own struggles without bothering others, become a mere corpse rotting in a ditch under the soft sounds of a rainy night, and be forgotten to the indifferent march of time. That sad whimpering out of existence fits far better with someone like me than the other ways to go out. After all, this story is a grimdark tragedy. So, since I don’t believe I will make any real impact on the world, that things won’t change, then what is the point of not taking up the proverbial pen and finishing off my story instead of dragging it along unnecessarily? I’m not fully sure, to be honest. Maybe it is the few drops of hope that remain. Maybe I’m too stubborn. Maybe I’m too lazy. I dunno. But I don’t need to know. I do know something important though: whatever is holding me back gets thinner in times like this and I’m not sure if I hope it holds out or finally gives way. - Vrell, Depressed Trans Girl.
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zivazivc · 4 months
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Hiii!! Ufff I don't know how to tell you that I love your take on Floyd. like some bad bad life decisions were taken (THAT SO!!! INTERESTING FOR HIM). Do you think he ever feels ashamed of himself when he looks at Branch's eyes, like "shit, this guy really believes in me" or "he doesn't even know everything I have done"? Like he has some really BIG "Love me Less by Max" vibes
They all really believe in his goodness which is worse
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And OH he definitely feels so much shame and regret. I think a big part of why he fell as hard as he did was because he finally didn't have to be his brothers' mediator, and I guess at one point he forgot that he still needed to be the voice of reason for himself. His new band mates encouraging his reckless behavior didn't help. Honestly I personally think young Floyd was a very naive kid and very dependent on his older brothers but his strong empathy gave them all the impression that he was much more mature and independent than he really was...
So yeah... you can imagine that constantly partying, doing drugs and sleeping around wears someone down after a few years. I think Floyd also went gray like Branch (not for as long tho) and he broke up with the band wanting to go home badly, but he was also ashamed of showing his face after a number of years as a gray drug addict, so he kind of just ended up alone...
If we're sharing songs, I have to show you this one by Linkin Park because I think Floyd wrote it for Branch (and the rest of his family (and some parts also addressing himself)) while he was at that desperate and lonely period because I am also extremely emo
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renguro · 2 months
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ohpsshaw · 3 months
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[I need you to go look up "ICICLE WORKS - I STILL WANT YOU" and start blaring that as loud as you can right now.]
So. Typhus and I have failed in our mission to get him into everyone's bedrolls. Turns out that traumatized vampire got hands. We didn't have the heart to break up with Astarion, and I think we're DnD married now. Please keep us in your prayers.
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popqorn · 15 days
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as expected, the brilliant protagonist truly was overwhelmingly cool, awesome, insane, and badass, with a dick longer than the heavens
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