#in general I do care just isn’t the discussion I’m looking to divert to ty

[overbearingstruggles]

friendly reminder to everyone that these festivals do not have morals or anyone's best interest at heart. they have what will generate them the most profit at heart. if it appeases the twitter hivemind to cut bands that have sexual assault allegations directly against them aka means the socmed hivemind is more willing to buy tickets and attend, then it's what they'll do. cancel culture is usually surface level and doesn't go beyond "well this person who is directly a member of the band did something and the other members have done nothing to hold them accountable." it's surface level and it's how misinformation spreads so quickly. one person says something is bad, spreads that to other people who immediately believe it without doing any research of their own, and so on. and i'm not saying this isn't often spread for people who deserve it, because cancel culture has also canceled plenty of people who definitely deserved it. but it's so nuanced and cancel culture acts like everything is black and white. so then they miss things like the fact that members of bands are still closely associated with people who have deservedly been canceled. also maybe i'm just annoyed because i saw some post about someone talking about celebs that give them the ick and someone in the comments commented saying yungblud and essentially called him predatory. i know very little about yungblud outside of the fact that he dated halsey for a little while bc i'm a fan of her and i like a few on his songs. so someone asked why they said yungblud, and their explanation was that... when he performs onstage. he performs in a "sexual manner" despite "knowing the audience is a lot of minors." as if it's yungblud's, an ADULT, responsibility to censor his art that isn't intended for minors because parents are too lazy to parent their kids and prevent them from seeing things intended for only adults. like idk much about him so if he has actually done something wrong i have no clue. but can these people at least get interesting and admit that a man who doesn't conform to typical gender stereotypes for men and seems comfortably ambiguous in his sexuality makes them uncomfortable. this got so long but cancel culture annoys me and sometimes people get "canceled" for complete non-issues that people make up and idk how they take themselves seriously.

Yep yep truuuee. I know this and yet becoming numb to it is my biggest fear. I can’t do anything but I’m seeing it and thinking about it. Because I’d rather be tortured by the wheels turning than not give a shit but man it’s bleak.

[sauveteen]

Burned Out | s.m

hey!! i was talking to my friends about breakups & relationships just...ending, and i think a lot of people don't realise that not every break up is dramatic & loud & has lots of crying. sometimes its numbing and shitty because it takes a while for people to absorb what's happened, and that's an important thing that we often forget. so here's a blurb about that, and i hope my shitty ass past tense doesn't make you click off lmao!

warning: cursing, 2k of angst

You'd be a fool if you said that you hadn't noticed how different Shawn had been acting. At first it was gradual; he would take a little longer than usual to reply to your texts, maybe miss a call or two. Forget your plans to hang out, and reschedule when he did remember. He would talk lesser and lesser every time you met, eyes obviously avoiding yours, the tiniest hints of guilt on your face. But he was Shawn, and he was honest, so you didn't think much into it. Maybe you should've — maybe it would've hurt less that way. But you kept telling yourself, hey, Shawn would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't he?

You think the final blow came when you were sat at your house, your back pressed against his side and his arm shrugged over your shoulder. You were both engrossed in the Disney movie that was playing in the screen (Moana, you're pretty sure), and scarfing your favourite Chinese dishes. You knew you should've asked Shawn about his odd behaviour and confronted him about the fact that he'd been all but dodging you for weeks, now, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Not when he'd finally shown up in all his red faced and curly haired glory, donning his signature pink hoodie and skinny jeans. All the frustration you'd pent up, ready to pour out onto him, had immediately melted away the moment he took you into his embrace.

It was only after he'd placed his box of noodles back onto the table that you realised how he hadn't offered you his manchurian balls. He hated them almost as much as you loved them, and it had become a sort of a routine — where he would pick his out and feed them to you, your eyes not diverting from the screen for even a second. The habit was almost as natural as kissing him when you saw him or him rubbing your thighs whenever he sat next to you. Almost as natural as loving him.

You knew you couldn't ignore the elephant in the room any longer. Or, in this case, the forgotten manchurian balls in his box of Chinese.

"Shawn?" You questioned, tilting your face up to look at him, "Is something wrong, bubba? You seem....," You trailed off, not knowing what to say, "Uh, a bit off? Are you feeling alright?"

It was almost comical how fast all the colour drained from Shawn's face. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, he nodded at you, "Uh, s'all good babe."

You weren't convinced, and he could probably tell. However, it wasn't like you to push someone when they weren't up for a discussion, so you let it slide. Again. After dumping the boxes in the trash, you returned to see Shawn pacing up and down your living room, head bowed. You knew him enough to know how that was a nervous habit of his, a tell of an incoming anxiety attack. But he said it was good, and he was with you, so what had gone wrong?

"Shawn, hey," You gripped his arm to steady him, his wild eyes immediately flying up to meet your concerned ones, "Are you sure you're good? Did something—"

"No," Shawn's cold reply cut your question in half, and your eyes widened in surprise as he continued, "No, I'm not good. Haven't been good, actually. Thought you would've noticed?"

"I—uh," You blinked, stepping away from him, "I did."

"And?"

"And?"

"It didn't bother you?"

"Shawn..," You could tell he was getting agitated, and that's not what you wanted. At all. "It did bother me, but I wanted to give you your space. You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"

"Something is wrong," His voice sounded exhausted, like he was straining to get his words out, "And I— God, I've been trying to tell you for so long and I just... I pussy out every fucking time, and it's eating me up on the inside."

You could feel your heartbeat pick up with every word that he uttered, stomach tying into knots in anticipation. What could've possibly gotten him so worried and exasperated? Did it have something to do with his health? With you? Even worse, did it have something to do about the two of you?

Him calling your name snapped you out of your daze, and he continued, "You want me to be honest, right? No holding back, no lies?"

"Always."

"I— I can't do this anymore."

"Can't do what anymore, Shawn?"

"This," he pointed between the two of you, helpless eyes brimming with unshed tears, "Us."

You felt your heart plummet. That one word had your entire body shaking in a matter of seconds, your mouth drying out when you tried to speak. Stuttering, you repeated, "U-Us?"

"I've tried... to continue. To pretend like nothing's changed— but I can't anymore. I'm lying to myself, and I don't deserve that. You don't deserve that."

You wanted to yell at him, tell him how he didn't know what you deserved, but you found yourself meekly nodding in agreement as he continued, "And— and, haven't you felt different too? Like we've drifted apart. Like our I love yous don't mean the same anymore."

You wanted to tell him that you hadn't. That your I love you had meant the same thing since you first blurted it out one fall morning with leaves in his hair and his hoodie around your shoulders. That even when he was continents away, you never felt the distance between you two for even a second. What you said instead was everything but.

"Y—yeah. I guess."

"It's just—," Shawn tugged at his hair, plopping down on your couch, "Fuck— I still love you. I don't think I'll ever stop loving you, but I don't—"

When you gulped, it was like you were trying to swallow hot nails, "You don't have to explain yourself, Shawn. It's okay."

"It's not fucking okay. It isn't. I don't know why I feel this way, and— and God, you're fucking perfect," He manages a weak chuckle, dropping his head into his hands, "You're literally my dream girl. I know that it's me, and not because I want to let you down easy... but because what else could it be? I've tried to understand and.. it just—"

"Shawn, hey," You were kneeling in front of him now, scooting between his parted legs to be able to look at him better. His face was bowed, hidden from sight, and you nudged his hands away from his face to take it into yours. Softly brushing his curls away from his face so you could see his eyes, you began, "It's okay, baby. Breathe. We'll be okay, come on—," You placed his palm on your chest, urging him to look at you, "Breathe with me."

Shawn took a minute to match his breathing with yours, eventually calming himself down as he followed your exaggerated breaths. You ran your arms over his arms, and he eased up because he knew the drill. Breathe, relax. Breathe, relax. You'd been here a time too many, since Shawn was a generally anxious person who cared too much.

As you waited for him to completely even out his breaths, you found yourself struggling to breathe. Regardless of what Shawn had said or what he was going to say, it didn't change the fact that your demise would be the same. The feeling of being left, just the anticipation made you feel like you'd been punched in the throat. You could feel your eyes watering, but you couldn't cry in front of Shawn. You knew him well enough to know that that would completely push him over the edge.

"How long have you felt this way?"

Shawn gulped audibly, blinking his tears away, "Uh— I don't know, honestly. It's just... it's just different, you know?"

All you could manage in reply was a soft hum, your hands limply falling to your sides. The more he talked, the harder it got to breathe, "I guess, when I returned from the festival circuit— it's like something snapped. I told you I got back on the seventh when I actually got back on the fifth, because I didn't know how to face you. I couldn't."

The seventh of November. The same day you'd finally managed to scrape enough to pay for the ring that you had designed almost a year back. The ring you couldn't wait to give Shawn, asking him Hey, it'd be cool if we spent the rest of our lives together, right? but you couldn't gather the courage to go down one knee and just do it. Now you're here, on your knees, breaking at the thought of the ring never seeing the light of the day. Ironic, isn't it — how Shawn was braving himself to break up with you while you prepped to ask him to marry you? When you were studying phrases in middle school, you had never known that 'not being on the same page' would've described your life so perfectly.

"I'm sorry," Shawn muttered, his earnest eyes covered by a sheen of tears, "I'm so fucking sorry, babe."

"No," You adamantly shook your head, wiping at his face with your thumbs, "How many times do I have to tell you, Shawn? You don't apologise for your feelings."

"It's just that I'm Canadian..."

You managed a weak smile at his attempt to joke, but the both of you knew that that was no time to be joking. What surprised you the most was the fact that nothing led up to that. Nothing prepared you for that. You hadn't fought, hadn't disagreed on anything, hadn't had even let the biggest to things cause a wedge between your relationship.

"I feel so fucking shitty right now. I never knew I was capable of being this sad. I'm a terrible person, aren't I? Do you feel like slapping me? I think you should—"

"A terrible person would've broken up with me over text. A terrible person—," you gulped, trying to find the words to continue, "Wouldn't have worried about how I would feel. You're not a terrible person, Shawn, you're the kindest, most loving man I know. And even the kindest and loveliest of men have the right to fall out of love."

"I haven't fell out of love," His reply was almost instantaneous, and in that moment, you hated him. You hated him, not because he was breaking up with you, but because he was making it that much worse. He claimed you were perfect. Said he was still in love with you. Then why was he so adamant on leaving you? "You're impossible not to love. You're so... you're so you," His hands are holding your face now, and you've never wanted to run away faster, "And I'm going to miss kissing you. And... other things. I fell too fast, and— and I burnt out faster."

"Shawn," Your voice was barely above a whisper as you pleaded, "Please, stop. It's okay. I— please, you.. I'm good."

"You were the best friend I've ever had."

Best friend — not girlfriend, not lover, not partner. You didn't know what to think of it, but there were more pressing matters on hand, and honestly, you didn't think it mattered. Whatever you were, you weren't anymore. You'd just be a distant memory in a year or two, a song on his album, a topic for his fans to discuss on social media. God, you'd never felt so insignificant.

"Thank you, Shawn."

"I love you."

You got up so fast you think you jerked your knee, but you were numb then. Turning your head away from him, you muttered, "The movie's almost over. Uh, I think you should leave."

Your request sounded like a plea for him to leave you for the night, but the both of you knew it ran deeper than that. You wanted to still be friends, but you weren't sure if you had absorbed the fact that Shawn had just broken up with you yet. You think you still haven't. Maybe you shouldn't have been so hasty to push him out, but you had held it in for as long as you possibly could. If he had lingered for a second longer, you would've probably broken down in front of him and begged him to take you back.

You blamed no one but yourself, at the time. You didn't even think about the fact that everything went two ways. Two sides to a coin. You were so in love that just the thought of Shawn purposely doing something to hurt you was revolting.

The break up itself was hard, and you knew you didn't take it well. You knew, that no matter how much you smiled and tried to go on like normal, people around you noticed. Shawn, who still hung around because you'd always been in the same social circles, noticed. That didn't stop him from having a new girl on his arm every time you saw him, or his name flashing across infamous magazines for his notorious ways.

That wasn't the Shawn you fell in love with, and it definitely wasn't the Shawn you still loved.

And even after months of that one fateful night, you didn't know why he did what he did. Maybe he did burn out, but did he really have to burn you down along with him?

would anyone like a part 2 to this because i think i got some IDEEAAAAS!

edit: i AM doing part 2 so just reply/message me to get added to a taglist!

Read Part 2 here!