#alcohol is a depressant

[sandybuny]

[muzgozjeb]

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

Flamingo Road (Michael Curtiz, 1949)

[laphol]

remeber this old gal ? Fefe design is outdated but she's the foundation for my latest generation plushies

[simvanie]

7 Sins Legacy - generation 5 (gluttony)

"Through all the failed attempts at trying to belong I overthink the obvious when I'm alone" 🎵

[enemywasp]

I HATE tiktok and the Internet in general rn for the obsession with "oh this person's smellyyy" "Brother it STINKS over here" "BOO 💧🧼🧽🚿" and stuff like that. I wish I could put into words how demeaning and patronising that whole idea is and people implying anyone they don't like doesn't wash.

For one there's something grating about being insulted in a manner like we're in nursery again. But also WHY is that the go to insult. Why do you associate these things? Especially to those you deem "chronically online". Like I don't want to sound pathetic but it feels so nasty to me.

is it extreme to say this feels tied to ableism? And classism too?

[izuku]

@paletmblr 3 year anniversary: quotes House Targaryen + Quotes that warrant Westerosi CPS visits

[dreamwatch]

Know When To Hold 'em

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #17 - Prompt: This One's For You | Word Count: 999 | Rating: T | CW: death of a parent, depression, grief, referenced drug abuse, alcoholism | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Wayne Munson, Eddie needs a hug, protective Steve, hurt/comfort

I'm sorry. :(

The first time it happened totally out of the blue.

It was their first big show in Indy, their home show, and of course Wayne wanted to be there, as much out of curiosity as anything. He didn’t hear a thing; Steve gave him a set of ear plugs and it was like he’d been handed a pot of gold. “I could have done with these years ago.” But he saw everything and he talked about that show to anyone that would listen, and a few that wouldn’t.

Eddie was over the goddamn moon about it so he told the audience, “My Uncle Wayne’s here tonight, everyone say 'hi Uncle Wayne!'” and five thousand people just— did it. Because Eddie asked them to. Even through the ear plugs Wayne heard it. Steve’s not sure he’s ever seen the old man blush before.

So it became a thing completely by accident. If Wayne was there they played The Gambler as the last song of the encore; like the flag at Buckingham Palace telling everyone the Queen was home: Uncle Wayne was in the house. The fans latched onto it straight away, and it was one of only a couple of songs that Eddie would sing. Wayne didn’t see the band play often but it didn’t matter where they were, the moment that song started up the crowd went wild; the roar of “Hi Uncle Wayne!” rolling through the audience before everyone sang along. And Wayne there at the edge of the stage shaking his head, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Eddie was in Germany when Wayne died. 

‘The best that you can hope for is to die in your sleep’, sang The Gambler, and that’s exactly what he did. Wayne would have got a kick out of that.

Breaking the news to Eddie was the most painful thing Steve’s ever had to do.

Tonight is their first night back after a two month hiatus. It feels too soon, but there are contracts, missed shows, obligations, and there’s only so much their manager can do to keep the label, promoters and lawyers away. 

Eddie’s dead eyed and lethargic; he’s started drinking again, Steve discreetly hid his pain medication when he noticed the bottle emptying faster than it should have. He sleeps with a belly full of Ambien and spends his day wrapped in Zoloft. Neither help.

But the show must go on, right? 

Despite everything, the grief, the fog of depression, when he walks out onto the stage he’s a supernova, the brightest of lights in the deepest of darks. He’s fucking dazzling. 

The crowd at the Market Square Arena are on fire, they explode when the band run on stage but Steve doesn’t miss the extra noise when Eddie gets out there. Eddie loosens up as the gig goes on, and by the end, when they take a bow together, he looks like a different man to the shell thats been haunting their home. 

There will be a crash later. Steve is already prepared for it.

The band come off drenched with sweat. Steve can see the pinched expression on Eddie’s face, the exertion after all this time lying around like a ghost has taken its toll on a body that has seen better days. But he still smiles at Steve as he hands off the guitar to his tech, his Sweetheart, only brought out for the encores now. 

“Was it okay?” Eddie asks him, towelling the sweat from his face.

“You were amazing,” is all Steve can manage right there, but he’s buzzing inside and there’s more he wants to say. But that’s for later, when it’s just them.

The band are handing off instruments, roadies scurrying around, breakdown already underway. There’s a lot happening, and you know, Steve’s hearing isn’t that great these days but there’s nothing wrong with his eyesight. He sees the little commotion over Eddie’s shoulder, the way people halt, ears pricking up like labradors. Jeff turns to Steve with wide eyes and Matt has stopped in his tracks. And then he sees the exact moment Eddie picks up on it, the furrowed brow, the soft tilt of the head.

The crowd are singing Wayne’s song.

Everyone stops. Roadies stand there like marionettes with their strings cut.

And Eddie…

He looks devastated, his hand flying up to his mouth like he’s trying to bury a sob, stopping the grief from breaking containment.

Steve can see the band over Eddie’s shoulder, heads nodding before they’re grabbing guitars back from their techs. He knows what they’re going to do, but there’s no way Eddie is up to it, they have to know that. Jeff slings an arm over Eddie’s shoulder, pulls him in, knocking his forehead against Eddie’s. And then Matty does it, Matty who doesn’t have a sentimental bone in his body, but Gareth is long gone, already running back onto the stage, crowd cheering at the sight of him, before Matty and Jeff follow him out. And they pick up where the crowd are and they play. Eddie usually sings it, but Jeff takes it tonight. 

Steve grabs Eddie’s hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “C’mon,” he says, pulling Eddie toward the side of the stage.

Steve loved Wayne, so fucking much. And maybe with all the help and care Eddie needed afterward, still needs, maybe Steve didn’t get a chance to grieve properly. He feels the ache in his chest, before he notices the calloused fingers wiping his tears away.

“He loved you, Steve.” He can’t reply, just nods, and Eddie holds him like he should be holding Eddie. And then he’s gone, out on to the stage, back with his band. No guitar, just sharing a mic with Jeff and joining as much as the tears will allow. And then the music cuts, Matty and Gareth joining them at the mic, and it’s just voices, nineteen thousand and four. Corroded Coffin, arms slung across shoulders, singing Wayne’s song. 

Singing to Wayne.

Yeah... I went there.

So, I had this idea months ago and parked it because I didn't know what to do with it. And then this prompt came along and BOOM!

[enbypandwhich]

Being clean feels wrong

[birrdify]

3 i respectfully need you to explode in a million pieces

[muzgozjeb]

[maladaptiveobsession]

“Too Little, Too late”

Synopsis: How the DOL LIs react to the player’s suicide

pt. 2

Contains: gn!reader, male!love interests, suicide by pill overdose, death, necrophilia, alcoholism, self-deprecation, dissociation, depression

Words: 1163

A/N: Do not take the content warnings above lightly. The character’s sentiments and the player’s death is described in detail. If you are sensitive to any of these topics, please take care. I had intended to write for some other NPCs as well, but quickly realized I was not in the mental space to continue. I was using my personal experiences as reference, so my personal feelings and the feelings of the characters blended together and I just got overwhelmed.

Alex:

He’s confused and distraught. Why didn’t you confide in him? Was he not enough? He thought you were doing better. What did he miss? What could he have done differently? There’s nothing he wouldn’t have done if it meant keeping you.

He’ll never recover. The farm is neglected, unable to handle the grief. Everything reminds him of you. He blames himself and spends every moment missing you. Alcohol is his only solace and perhaps his demise as well.

Avery:

He’s initially enraged. You repay him by attaching a tragedy to his public image? Above all, he feels betrayed. Anger eventually morphs into bitter acceptance. He tries to pretend otherwise, but he’s affected deeply. He’s not sure how to feel, but it’s wrong all the same. Never before had he grown so fond of any of his arm candy. It was too little, too late by the time he realized he wanted more than a transactional relationship. He continues to attend functions, but his smile is tighter and his eyes are weary. Any attempts to replace you fail miserably. Nobody smiles like you or laughs like you. Nobody is talented enough, smart enough, or obedient enough.

He won’t forget you, but he can’t afford to lose his image, so he grieves in silence. He wonders if things might have been different had he realized how he felt sooner. What might things have been like had he put a ring on your finger? It’s only now in your absence that he understands the joy you brought him. He should have paid better attention to his plaything.

Eden:

Inconsolable is the only way to describe him. Little has brought this man to his knees or made him tear up, but discovering your cold, lifeless body broke him. He’s pissed at you for leaving him. He’s pissed at himself for not noticing the signs; he should have known better than any other. Among the anger, he’s confused. Why didn't you ask for help? There’s nothing he wouldn’t have done for you. What could have been so bad that you would want to kill yourself? Was he so awful? He begins to reflect on his behavior towards you. He knew your initial meeting was unsavory at best, but he had changed since and thought you were healing. He spends every waking moment criticizing his past actions, wondering what might have been had he treated you better.

He considers taking his own life but chooses to live through the anguish as punishment. He tries his best to overcome, but nothing is the same without you. He misses you deeply; the comfort you brought him left so easily. If only he had cherished you more and taken better care of you. If only he had just listened. You should still be cozying up against him on the loveseat, but you’re not and never will be.

Kylar:

Kylar initially denies your death. You’re not dead. You’re just sleeping. As time goes on, he becomes hysterical. You must be ignoring him to get his attention! You’re okay! You’re fine! Nothing is wrong! He’ll defile your body, having convinced himself you’ve entered a deep sleep. The smell will force him into clarity. He knows that smell well; he would recognize the stench of rotting flesh anywhere. He’ll fly into hysteria, falling to his knees and wailing. His darling is gone forever. Why did you do it? Was he not good enough? He must have neglected you or upset you somehow! He should have paid attention. You would be here otherwise. You were unhappy, but he was too selfish to notice! This is all his fault!

Unlike all the rest, Kylar cannot live without you. He takes his own life shortly after, collapsing over your decomposing corpse. If you squint, it’s nearly a romantic sight.

Robin:

Finding you in your bed, cold and stiff with pills spilled haphazardly across your desk, was the worst moment of his life. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t break down and cry. There’s no confusion. There’s no need to ask why; he knows. He’d spent ages wondering how you managed to keep yourself together. How you smiled so brightly in such disturbing circumstances escaped him. It’s only now that he realizes just how much you were suffering, quietly enduring for his sake. He should have seen the signs—the smile that never reached your eyes, the flinching, the lethargy. Things you couldn’t hide that he should have seen but simply didn’t want to acknowledge. It wasn’t a conscious decision by any means, but rather a subconscious attempt to avoid uncomfortable truths in hopes they’d resolve on their own. Had he reached out to you and comforted you, he’s pretty sure you’d still be here. Your blood is on his hands.

Robin will never be the same, and there’s a chance he’ll follow your example. In another timeline, he decides to keep fighting, leaves town, and never looks back. Another version is swallowed up by grief and grows darker and vengeful. Regardless of his path going forward, he lives in your memory. Time heals, but the scar won’t fade.

Sydney:

He is beyond distraught. Why did you do it? Why did you leave him? Was he not enough? He misses you severely. Every waking moment is torment without you. Your loss sends him plunging deeper into the church’s grasp, regardless of purity. If the church is responsible for your passing by any measure, Sydney severes ties completely. Unlike all the rest, Sydney has a loving parent to comfort and guide him through the grief.

Ultimately, Sydney will move on. He carries your memories with him. Your death still haunts him, but he’ll eventually find somebody to start a family with. He’ll convince himself he’s happy, but he can’t help but wonder how things might have been if you were by his side instead.

Whitney:

Numbness engulfs Whitney. Nothing feels real anymore. Is he even real? How can you be gone? He still has the bruises you gave him from your last encounter, so how can you be gone? Anger bites at his mind, but the static sorrow washes it away. Without you, nothing matters. He blames himself. He was a terrible person to you. Of course you would choose death over somebody like him. Even if he was changing for the better, that doesn’t take away what he did to you.

He washes down the grief with liquor. He doesn’t live; he drifts, too tired to even take his own life. He’d spend the rest of his life punishing himself for failing you. With enough time, he might snap out of that fog. Of all the rest, he is the most likely to use this trauma to make much-needed changes around town. He’ll stay single, too afraid of failing yet another person, of being hurt, or of betraying you. Whitney will ultimately be okay, even if every day is a challenge and every memory is overwritten with regret.

[shiftythrifting]

Crown Royal gnome someone made (would have bought if he wasn't $30) and a uranium glass bowl, found at Marion Antique Mall in Marion IL.

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (Richard Brooks, 1958)

[sheepandpencils]

This is an incredibly niche AU, but i think it kinda works? The more i thought about it, the more similarities i saw between the respective characters, especially Wen Kexing and Alastor.

But also an excuse for me to draw them in hanfu really. :D

[creature-wizard]

"People don't really need antidepressants, we got on without antidepressants for thousands of years!" Yeah uh a lot more people were dying by suicide and a lot more people were alcoholic back then, Linda.