#suicidal idealation

[strawbearyhoney]

Just say you hate ppl with eating disorders and go

if someone were to promote depression ( literally using a pro-depression tag and telling other people how to get more depressed and encouraging others to self harm and be miserable ) and i said ' tumblr should block that tag ' would you say i hated ppl who suffer froam depression . lol

i have ppl close to me who have suffered from eating disorders and i have a complicated relationship with food myself . its one thing for ppl struggling with an ed to have a space to talk about it , to connect with other people going through the same thing , even to vent about it / their challenging thoughts and talk about when they relapse . its another thing entirely to make posts like " fat ppl are ugly disgusting monsters you have to be skinny pale and frail to be worth anything or beautiful " and then plop urself right into an echo chamber of people obessing and nodding along liek yes yes i must be thin i must be thin all i want is to be thin im disgusting

you are going to die . full stop . you are going to die . your organs will fail and your hair will fall out and your teeth will wear down from the acid of you throwing up so often . you are going to die and it wont be pretty . you are going to die if you do not get out . eating disorders kill people , full stop . liek i need you to understand how serious this is . you either recover or youre dead . this isnt me saying " i dont liek that these people are talking about something thats bad " or " ppl struggling with this should have no spaces to talk about what theyre going through " , this is me saying " the pro ana tag is so incredibly dangerous and tumblr should block it liek theyve blocked countless of other way less harmful tags " . this is me saying im begging you to do some reserach to get out of the echo chamber and i know its not that easy and you cant just say ' wow ur right im healed now thanks ' , but you have to want to get better and that starts with cutting out " thinspo " and to stop encouraging eachother to slowly kill yourselves

liek there are a host of other problems too . the fatphobia is an obvious one , but also the colourism , racism , etc . the pro ana / thinspo communities are obsessed with reaching this ideal of a skinny pale waif , so many blog titles and urls are centered around being ~ fragile ~ and ~ pure ~ and they only ever focus on white girls ( or apparently kpop stars now ) . its an incredibly toxic place . " meanspo " is a thing now ?? i couldnt stomach too much of it

but without getting into the ~ discourse ~ or how ~ problematic ~ those communities are . putting that aside . youre going to die . full stop you either recover from an ed or it kills you . and some people with eds are suicidal and that wont deterr them , for some their goal is to wither away into nothingness . ppl with eds are not healthy , mentally or physically , and that is not a moral judgment , it is a fact . people get eds for all sorts of reasons , from trauma ( abuse , bullying , sa , etc ) , from being fat in a fatphobic world , because they latch onto food as something they feel liek they can control-- there's so many reasons , an endless amount of reasons . i am not here to shame anyone for having an eating disorder

that does not change my stance on the fact that the " pro ana / thinspo " tags ( and their copycats . #proana #proed #thinspi #thinspii #thinspø #thinsp0 #ed not sheeran #ed not sherran #ana miaa etc etc ) are dangerous and should be removed . similar to how someone going into tha #depression tag and promoting and encouraging others to kill themselves should be banned

srsly if someone went into tha #depression tag and started posting and commenting on others posts liek " kill yourself , its never going to get better , heres some accessible ways to die , heres some suicide inspo , heres cute suicide note ideas , kill urself just die prove everyone wrong , everyone will be so sorry and regret the way they treated you , just die " , people would mass report them and dogpile them and be angry at them and get them banned . but when pro ana ppl do it suddenly its " let us cope " lol ????? not all coping methods are good or healthy or should be encouraged / promoted . and self mutilation is one thing , but when you are actively harming others it cant be left alone

to quote Blythe Baird from her spoken word When The Fat Girl Gets Skinny : if you are not recovering , you are dying

[thediktatortot]

Little Steve ficlet i wanted to just write out. I understand that you can't dive into the emotions of all the characters in one show, but I really wish there was just a little more visual nuance when writing characters after tragety happens.

Warning for suicidal thoughts, unhealthy coping mechanism.

------

It's over, Eleven says, her tone and expression so matter of fact that Steve can't feel any atom in his body doubt what she says.

It's all finally over and Steve Harrington can finally breath, he can finally go home and begin to put his life back together and start thinking about the future and what he wants to do with it because no more monsters are coming around to try and sometimes excede at killing the people around him.

Except, when Steve does finally get home, takes the shoes off his sore feet that have been carrying him all night on legs that burn with overuse connected to a torso that's seen better days attached to a pair of arms that can't lift up passed his waist and a head so full of the sounds of monsters screeching, children screaming for their lives and the flashes of oily muck and dark red blood, that it takes everything in Steve's body just to keep him standing.

Forget breathing, Steve thinks to himself as he makes a puddle out of himself in the front entrance of his house, the echoed sound of his own chopped and harsh breathing the only thing greeting him as he lays on the cold tile floor.

They like the cold, Steve remembers, a viceral feeling of fear washing over him from head to toe is enough to get him to push himself up off the tile and onto his hands and knees.

It's over, he thinks to himself, it's over and all Steve has left to do is to pick himself back up and move on with his life.

But there's a joke in there right? Steve Harrington gets to move on, gets to keep on trucking while the list of names on Hawkins Post Memorial section grows with every passing day. Steve Harrington gets to live and die knowing that there was nothing he could do to save anyone who died, knowing none of those people had easy deaths and were confused and alone while Steve Harrington gets to come home and sleep in his own bed and live to see another day.

It's taking everything in Steve's power to just breath right now, dark spots in his blurred vision while he fights against the vice grip against his lungs in his ribcage. It hurts. It hurts so bad and there's nothing he can do to change anything that's happened.

He can't get them back. He can't tell them it will be okay and that it wasn't their fault or that they should appreciate every day because today might actually be their last.

He can't go back to tell Barb just to stay inside, or that maybe he could walk her to her car to make sure she got home safe, or tell Nancy she should take her friend home.

He can't go back and tell Billy that things would get better once he got out on his own, that maybe they can be friends instead of posturing to one another in some weird dick measuring contest that Steve is pretty sure was Billy compensating for something he was lacking in his own life. Maybe he could have saved Billy from the tragic end he had endured if only he had let his own pride go and just talked to him.

He can't go back and save Eddie, tell him Chrissy's death wasn't his fault and that he should stick around because Dustin looked at him like he was the coolest thing since sliced bread and how if he gives up now the world wont get to experience his guitar skills and wicked humor. Maybe if he would have stayed with Dustin and sent Eddie with the girls he might still be alive and Dustin might not be more silent then he's ever seen him.

He can't save anyone and he can't save the lost opportunities and moments he might have had if he would have just made better choices and he'll have to live the rest of his life knowing the truth.

Life is brutal. It does not hold it's punches.

-----

Steve had awoken on the entrance floor of his home after he passed out from his panic attack, the panic and fear that he had felt when he had first gotten home completely absent in the face of pure numbness that overtook him the moment the morning sun met his tired eyes.

It comes in waves, the emotions, rising with the suns settings and welling up so loud that only the blaring of the TV playing movies can drown out.

Sleeping means being alone with your thoughts so he just doesn't, waiting for his body to take it from him instead. The sleep deprivation doesn't last long, can't keep it up and still function in any meaningful way seeing as Robin pulled him into helping out volenteer.

He hates it, being around people so full of hope and ignorance, putting a smile on his face when all he wants to do is cry. It's like sandpaper on his patience, with every 'It only gets better from here' and 'God has a plan for us all', Steve wants to throw everything he's doing on the ground and curse every single one of them.

How can they be so happy? Why does HE have to be the one to know what happened, to know what really happened? Why does everyone else get to move on and forget the people who died when he has to live with their faces in his mind for the rest of his life?

He stops volenteering. He can't do it anymore, a whole month of well wishes and promises for a better future and he just can't stand it anymore.

His parents are home again at least, their business trip before spring break having gotten lengthened due to the earthquakes and the town lockdown, but their home. Steve wants to tell them, to open up about what happened but he knows he can't, makes up watered down events to at least let them know he...experienced things. He can't fake the pauses he takes, the harsh breaths he has when a memory overtakes him or the tears that well up in his eyes as he thinks about all the people who should still be here.

They care in their own ways which helps just a little, Steve's father reaching out to him through sports numbers and requests to help him clear out his office. He hasn't asked yet why he's clearing his office, but he thinks they might be thinking about moving, especially with everything that's happened in Hawkins over the last few years.

Steve's mother takes him with her everywhere, the grocery, to the post office, to pick up supplies from the hardwear store, to talk with the neighbors a street down. He has to take a walk when one of those neighbors ends up being the Cunningham's neighbors, unable to hear the coverup version of events through a mouth who'd only known what happened after it was on the news.

It takes everything in him to leave the house, to get out of bed or off the couch and get out into the sun of early summer in Hawkins. If Steve's mother is irritated by it, she never lets it show, giving Steve a rare show of patience for his moods.

His wounds still bother him, somehow never having gotten infected like he had expected them too, but he assumed it must have been the near compulsive need to clean himself off and clean his wounds that helped prevent it during those first few days. The wounds itched, a constant nagging at his stomach, shoulders and back like itches he just couldn't scratch, adding to his already bright and sunny mood.

Steve was lonely.

After summer set in to its fullest, Steve noticed just how little anyone came to see him, their own lives busy with picking up the pieces and figuring out how to make a new puzzle that still made sense even with pieces missing. Robin called him almost every day which helped just a little, knowing he wasn't forgotten keeping him getting out of bed in the morning like he had something to look forward too still.

But still...it wasn't enough.

Steve was lonely in a way that his parents being around, midnight phonecalls and hugs from tweens couldn't fix, a deep sinking need of intimacy and closeness that had eluded him all his life and that gaping void was only made wider by all the digging the Upside Down did on his life's priorities.

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to save himself or ask to be saved and the energy it would take to explain all the little details that clawed into his mind at night and kept his mind spiraling and his breath halting just didn't feel worth it. Everyone has problems, especially everyone in Hawkins and Steve was not a man to burden others if he knew there was nothing they could do to fix it.

Maybe things would get better some day, he would tell himself, willing his mind to think of better and happier things like he was trying to coax a dog out from hiding with a bone. Sometimes the neediest of dogs still stay at a distance, pain and terror etching itself into their minds to the point of no return.

Maybe he would die tomorrow, drown in his own tears or pass out from hyperventilation but maybe his body wouldn't keep breathing like it usually does when he passes out. Maybe he'd get hit by a car as he drives his mother to the grocery store, hoping they hit his side instead of hers. Maybe his mom would finally leave his father if Steve was the only one left holding her back. Maybe his father would go find a woman who met his desires and keep her for once.

Maybe he'd trip and fall down the stairs, or step into the road at the wrong time, or choke on something, or maybe he'd just do it himself and take himself out of his own misery so the thoughts can finally stop.

Movie nights with Robin are bandaids.

Dinners with the Hendersons are little slices of too sweet hours stippled through his weeks that leave a fake sugary feeling in his mouth that comes with whipped sugar donuts, never as creamy or satisfying as cream donuts.

It's hard to shower.

Showers make him think of Billy, showers make him think of water and lakes and sometimes it's just so hard to take his clothes off and put them back on again that he skips the full routine and washes his face before going to bed instead. He used to be good at brushing his teeth, but now he usually doesn't remember until he's disgusted with himself and furiously destroying his gums at two in the morning because if he doesn't brush his teeth right then and there, they'd fall out and he'd finally look like the slob he feels like.

It's hard to eat.

It's a chore to make food, anything that doesn't come pre-prepared or easy to make in a few minutes is out of his skills right now. Coffee is easier. It tastes good, it's constant, it helps him keep awake and if he drinks enough of it, he barely notices the hunger until later in the afternoon. The shakes and nausea are horrible though, sometimes horrible enough to get him to sit on the kitchen floor in front of his fridge picking at anything in grabbing distance he can stick right into his mouth.

It's hard to look at his friends or his family.

He can see they see him, he knows what they see, can feel the thoughts of pity and wishes to make him feel better when they can't and it kills him inside. He hates knowing how he looks because he should just be able to do the things he needs to do and if no amount of external judgement can help, then what will?

It's hard to be sober now.

At first the alcohol helped him fall asleep, kept him just tipsy enough to make pushing the darker thoughts to the side easy enough to function, but soon it stopped working. He drank more, but the hangovers and the shakes he started to get were enough to push him to other things, having to drive all the way to a town over to get weed since...since Hawkins dealer was out of the picture now.

That helped for a while, the haze taking away the fear and thoughts long enough for him to fall asleep at night and get real rest, but it never lasted long. His tollerence was too high now, a single joint not enough to get him dazed anymore and it was eating through his savings every week.

It's hard now to exist.

The drugs aren't working and there's nothing he can do to put the breaks on his life and make it stop for just one fucking second so he can breath, and it's just so hard to breath. It hurts to breath, it hurts to wake up, it hurts to talk it hurts it hurts everything hurts.

He wears socks in the house now, both because he's always cold and he figures if he slips on the hardwood stairs at least it would be an accident. He eats without a care, knowing aspiration is by far the least good looking way to die but it's unforgiving at least. He drives a little too close to the center line, hoping someone with a little too much confidence or too little experience just happens to cross into his lane and takes him out of his misery.

[jack-daww]

Day 4: Envy Your Dead

Tom’s father doesn’t like looking at him. He says he looks too much like his mother, he says Tom makes him sad, because Tom is there while his mother isn’t. Tom doesn’t really remember his mother, but he does remember her funeral. There were a lot of people there, crying and ignoring Tom unless to give him their condolences. He has never seen most of them before, and hasn’t seen them since, either.

Tom’s father always visits his mother’s grave to leave flowers. Sometimes Tom comes with him. The grave is always very well taken care of, the grass trimmed and stone cleaned. Sometimes, Tom has to re-wear clothes more often than he is supposed to because his father forgot to do the laundry. His father will often talk about picking the best flowers for his mother’s grave, always her favourite. Tom doesn’t think his father knows what his favourite food is. He mostly makes noodles that end up being so mushy Tom has problems eating them. On Sundays, Tom’s father will read to his mother’s grave. Tom doesn’t remember the last time his father read to him.

Tom likes following his father when he visits his mother’s grave, because even while his father doesn’t look at him, he can pretend the reading is mean for Tom. Even though he never likes the books his father reads. Sometimes, he wishes it was him that died instead of his mother. Not because Tom wants to die, but because if he were dead, maybe his father would look at him.

Every year, on the day his mother died, Tom’s father often doesn’t come home at all. Instead, he spends the whole day at his mother’s grave. If Tom were dead, maybe his father would spay a whole day with him as well, instead of working all the time. Tom remembers his mother’s funeral, remembers how many people had been there, how many nice things they said. Nobody shows up to Tom’s birthday, nobody is there to say nice words about him. His father can’t, because he doesn’t look at Tom enough to know what to say.

So, on another day where his father is at work and Tom is alone, he visits his mother’s grave. Tom leans against the gravestone, looking over the well-taken care of grass and flowers. Tom closes his eyes and imagines being connected to his mother through the point of contact with the cold stone.

Tom likes to think that the dead are all together. They must never be lonely, with how many graves are in this graveyard.

Tom wishes he were never lonely. He wishes his father would read to him, and spend a whole day with him, and bring him his favourite flowers. Tom wishes people would come to see him and say nice thing about him. He wishes people would travel a long way just to meet him.

Tom doesn’t want to die, but sometimes he wishes he were dead. Because then people would pay attention to him.

[incorrect-web-novels]

[Text ID -

Chapter 1

I once read an article in a newspaper that said the following,

According to a study by a university from the UK, on average, people with higher IQ were more likely to develop depression.

If that article is true, I might have been a genius that far surpassed even Einstein when I was a child.

At least that's how I see it...

Back then, I was a very miserable and depressed child. A person who, every day, thought of ways for a quick death.

End ID]

Jsjsjdkdkkedjdjs can't believe that's how it's starting out

[playedbetter]

"Listen up, Jacket. I tell you what the fuck is wrong with you now, and I won't repeat myself. And that is one thing, because you don't listen. Sometimes enemy shoot holes in your body-- bang bang bang, Dallas or Bain or I tell you to back down, you back down. Not charge forward like stupid bull because you are not one. That's what I think is wrong with you. Stubborn, is what I think, but in bad way. Maybe you get a little training in the army, yes, but you are not ironman. You could fucking die! And all this over a bag of cash? Блядь! Even Sokol sits out of hockey fights sometimes. It's not worth it, you know? Money, we can make more of it next time. But there is only one you."

Tell my muse what is wrong with them / Still accepting

Jacket was deathly quiet. Something was going on behind his eyes, something rare. If nothing else the shock got through the thick layer of dissociation that he near constantly lived with.

"Maybe I do this to die, did you ever consider that?" He spoke. "Maybe I saw how little the was for me outside of a fight and I decided I'd at least go down doing the one thing I enjoy."

He wasn't even the only Jacket, he had ripped off the name and identity off a video game, one based off some other spree killer with the exact same name.

He was the only Axel, but Axel was worthless, and unknown to everyone but himself.

"Why did you ever think this was about the money?"

[shadowtraveled]

"mithrun is the only real monsterfucker in dungeon meshi" is objectively the funniest bit you can get out of his everything, but in all seriousness i think his attraction to his love interest is deliberately overstated—and that makes sense, because romantic jealousy is a classic and digestible motive, which is explicitly what kabru was aiming for in condensing mithrun's backstory, and also because until chapter 94, mithrun wasn't willing to admit to the true nature of his desires.

but because romantic envy is both classic and digestible, it probably isn’t a unique enough or complicated enough desire to tempt a demon’s appetite. mithrun’s wish, as far as we can figure from kabru’s reduced retelling, was to have a life in which he had never become one of the canaries, and that carries like 3857 implications and desires within it. that’s delicious. his love interest acts as sort of a red herring to his motivation for making it, though. (side note: i'm saying "love interest" here because, keeping in mind that i barely speak japanese on a good day anymore, "想い人" is something i'd usually take as just kind of an old-fashioned and romantic way to refer to a lover, but in context i wonder if both the connotation of yearning and the vagueness are intentional, and i think this phrasing gets those aspects of it more effectively. anyway.)

mithrun considered his love interest to be untrustworthy. there was a minute where i thought that comment might be about a similar-looking elf (yugin, one of his squad members), but comparing the two…

the "sketchy" arrow is definitely referring to the elf we know as his love interest—the bangs go toward her right, she only has the one forehead ornament, and, most notably, her ears aren't notched.

every time she’s given a full-body depiction in his dungeon, she’s drawn as a chimera, with the body of a snake from the waist down. (side note: the “what if a dungeon has chimeras before reaching level 4?”/“then the dungeon lord is unstable” exchange just being mithrun grilling his past self alive is so funny. he’s so. but anyway) there are a couple things about this.

first, the snake part of the chimera appears to be modeled after some species of coral snake mimic

which, in the biology-for-fun manga, i… doubt is a coincidence, especially with the added context of the “untrustworthy” comment. the dungeon’s conjured illusion of mithrun’s love interest was a harmless copycat of a venomous original. for whatever reason, he felt this person was a threat and made up a "safe" version of her to be in a relationship with, and while it’s definitely possible to be attracted to or even love someone you find to be toxic and/or intimidating, when you take that into consideration alongside the configuration of her body, you get some interesting implications.

which brings us to our second point: if we assume that mithrun was not in fact fucking a snake, then sexual attraction, at least, was so far removed from his idea of a relationship with this person that he did not even bother to keep her dungeon copy human enough to maintain the illusion of the option of a sexual relationship. this is somewhat echoed in the depictions of their interactions, which also imply a frankly unexpected romantic distance. she kisses his cheek and he doesn't seem to react; she's at the edge of a narrow bed with only one set of pillows, on top of his blankets while he's underneath them.

the kiss is particularly interesting because it seems to contrast the text. kabru's narration tells us this was everything mithrun could have asked for, but mithrun is there looking unreadable to pensive, likely because this is right before the panel that makes it clear things in the dungeon are beginning to go wrong.

walking through this backwards for a minute, we have the physical barrier of his bedding and the spatial separation inherent in a bed made for one person, the emotional barrier of his mounting anxiety getting in the way of his ability to enjoy the affection he sought, and... the snake, which historically carries the connotation of temptation, yes, but also mistrust, barring physical intimacy. okay. ok. if a dungeon reflects the mentality of its lord, all of this might suggest that mithrun was not able to have any real desire for a relationship with this person. his unwillingness to be vulnerable or let another person in was insurmountable. but in that case, why was she such a focal point that she remained to the end, after his dungeon had stopped creating iterations of his friends to come and visit him? why would he get so upset over her meeting with his brother that he became lord of a dungeon about it?

well. mithrun's brother was also interested in her, probably genuinely. and mithrun had to win.

you have an older brother who your parents completely ignore, probably in part because he is chronically ill/disabled and almost definitely in part because he received a ton of recessive traits that resulted in rumors that he was an illegitimate child. you are aware, most likely because those same parents fucking told you, that you actually are an illegitimate child. but they keep you around because you had the good fortune of looking just like your mother. what can that possibly teach you but that you, like your brother, are disposable?

it's utterly unsurprising that mithrun, under these circumstances, developed a pathological need to be better than everyone around him. people don't keep you otherwise. i'd argue this is also why he says he looked down on everyone he knew while milsiril claims his dungeon reeked of feelings of inferiority—he sought out people's worst traits and prioritized them in his mind to protect his already extremely fragile sense of self-worth, and all the while he tried to be as likable and high-performing as he possibly could be. his parents disposed of him anyway, but even then he tried to keep up the performance. he was kind to everyone. he never once lost to a dungeon.

when he saw his "love interest" meeting up with his brother, what he saw was himself being replaced by a person his parents had always treated as worthless, and if that was what they thought of the child they'd kept, what value could anyone possibly see in the bastard they'd given away to die? mithrun and kabru tell the story like he wanted to win this unnamed elf's heart, but it was never about being with her. it was about cementing his worth, proving that he didn't deserve to be thrown away.

and so it's particularly cruel that his demon discarded him, too. but maybe it's also particularly gentle that, in the end, there was someone who refused to even consider giving up on him.

kui laid it out in three panels better than i could hope to.

yeah. it's love. you wanted to be loved, even when the only way you were able to understand it was through the desire to be wanted, and you wanted that so badly that the idea of being consumed felt like the promise of finally mattering to someone.

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part twenty-two

759 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one

Eddie do you ever think about what you’re gonna do after high school? like how am i expected to know what i want to do with my life? i mean, i have another year to think about it but not that much can change in a year you probably wanna do something with music, right? make it big with your band and have people screaming your songs i’d go to every show if i could be your own personal groupie who knows? maybe that’s my calling p.s. have a good time at hellfire tonight i hope you win !!!!! -H

You’d think the win last night would put him in high spirits, and it did. At first. He celebrated with the guys, passed on the get together someone suggested, and drove home feeling proud. It was when he was laying in bed, though, that he started thinking. When he graduates, how often will he be able to ride a high like that? From pure accomplishment?

Steve puts on a brave face for morning practice. He doesn’t wanna drag anyone down with him. He goes through the motions of accepting congratulations and pats on the back from his peers and teachers alike all morning long. 

It only makes him think, though. 

Seriously, what comes after this? More school? Does he accept that internship at his father’s soul sucking company? Does he get a gob and jump right into adulthood?

What it really comes down to is the fact that Steve had never thought he’d have a future. Honestly. He’s getting closer and closer everyday to the next stage in his life, though. The years snuck up on him and now he has to deal with it. 

On a lesser scale, Steve doesn’t like thinking about what life will be like once Eddie graduates this coming May. How is Steve meant to tolerate this hellhole without him? Sure, he’d gone years without really noticing him, but now that he knows what it’s like to have a taste of him in his life, he doesn’t think he could go back. 

The whole thing makes his pulse quicken and sweat begin to bead at his hairline. By the time he makes it to art class, there’s a tension forming at his temples and he’s not looking forward to the headache. He doesn’t think he has it in him to act like everything’s normal. 

For once, Carol doesn’t acknowledge his foul mood. She’s too busy staring at Robin. For the portrait, of course. 

The teacher had informed them today the class is basically a free period and they can choose what to work on or what to not work on. 

Steve sits slumped over the table with his head resting on his folded arms. He kind of wishes Eddie hadn’t put the divider up and also that he had his sunglasses so he could stare at him without feeling weird about it. 

Instead, he rests his eyes and tunes into the sounds of pencil on paper surrounding him. He dozes for a while and has nearly fallen asleep when he’s awoken with a poke to his cheek. 

Steve peels his eyes open, but no one seems to be wanting his attention. There is, however, a piece of paper placed next to his left arm. 

It’s a drawing. 

A stick figure with tall swoopy hair and eerily realistic eyes. 

Steve looks to his left, only to find the culprit still hard at work with his face tucked behind the divider. 

Steve visually fills in the blank and surmises Eddie’s smile probably matches his own. 

Steve doesn’t dare fold the paper. He tucks it into the notebook he has to keep it safe. Throughout the rest of the day, he opens the book just to look at it. When he takes it home, he tapes it to a wall in his bedroom, somewhere he can always see it. 

Eddie did i ever tell you how sweet it is that your club has matching tees? i haven’t seen anyone who doesn’t do sports or the school band have a uniform but it makes sense that other clubs would, too you look good in black, don’t get me wrong, but GOD i thought i was gonna die the first time i saw yours so thanks for that also, while we’re on the subject of how hot you are,  you should wear your hair up more often p.s. sorry about the existential crisis on friday i wasn’t doing too good but i got a pick-me-up eventually <3 -H

twenty-three

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[conceptofjoy]

[medievalthymes]

fitzchivalry farseer - realm of the elderlings / pierre bezukhov - the great comet of 1812 (dust and ashes)

[braedenhales]

TEEN WOLF MEME [6/8] SCENES ⟹ "MOTEL CALIFORNIA" [3x06]

[lloydfrontera]

i don't buy that lloyd would get over his fear of the restoration of fate that quickly. he was doomed by the narrative for years and now he's supposed to shake it off in less than two weeks? absolutely not, he literally tried to kill himself in order to avoid it, ain't no fucking way he just stopped being scared about it in a couple days i don't believe it

anyway. this is my way of saying that lloyd refused to cross dimensions until he made javier swear that he would kill him with his own hands if there was even a hint of the restoration of fate starting up again. he wouldn't consider going back if it meant putting his family and home in danger again even if it meant being left behind in a place he would've rather died than stay at.

and they both know that javier would fall on his own sword before hurting lloyd but they also know lloyd would take his own life before allowing him to do that or to let his existence put his loved ones in danger again. they know lloyd doesn't really need javier to kill himself, not if he's really committed to it. he's done it before it after all.

him asking javier this is. a warning. of what he's planning to do if the restoration of fate starts again. it's his way of telling javier that he cannot promise things will be okay if he comes back. that he must be ready to lose lloyd again if necessary because lloyd won't allow anything else.

it's also maybe... an indulgence on lloyd's part. he's felt himself die so many times now. and so many of his deaths were painful or terrifying or surrounded by his enemies and sometimes all three at once.

but he remembers a sunset, a coat over his shoulders, shaky yet reliable hands holding a sword. a quick, peaceful death on his own terms, done by someone lloyd trusted with something far more important than his life.

and he knows it's selfish, he knows it's cruel, but if he has to die, for real this time, can't it be at the hands of his best friend? if he has to be killed, can't it be done by someone lloyd knows cares for him? if he has to close his eyes and never open them again, can't the last thing he ever sees be the face of the person he loves enough to die for as many times as necessary?

and javier agrees because. what else can he do. he spent so long hoping lloyd would finally trust him enough to tell him what he was planning so javier could help him in anyway he was able to and now. now lloyd is asking this of him.

he desperately doesn't want to say 'yes'. but he cannot say 'no'.

what else can he do.

what's the point of being the most powerful human on the world if he can't even protect the one person he swore to protect above all things. what's the point of him if the only thing he can do is promise to kill his best friend because he has no other way to protect everything they've worked for.

how can he promise lloyd that everything will be okay, that things will work out, that if needed javier will die for him before letting anything happen to him, when he already failed before.

what else can he do

anyway. i don't think any amount of end spoilers and confessions to the jewel of truth are enough to soothe the terrified, paranoid and utterly traumatized part inside lloyd's chest that goes tight any time anything goes even remotely wrong for a good while. it takes a couple months, maybe a few years even, before lloyd stops going cold every time there's even a hint of trouble around him. before he stops reflexively looking to javier's sword to calm himself down whenever things don't go perfectly right in every way.

it takes a while. but it does happen. and things aren't perfect, that's not how life works, but they're good and even when they aren't, lloyd can finally face them and believe they're not his fault. that his existence is not an obstacle for the happiness of the people he loves.

[bubblespalace]

Hiiii!! I hope ur day is going good !! („• ֊ •„) I really really hope I’m requesting in the right spot (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ) Anyways, can you do how the Sakamaki brothers would react to falling deeply in love with someone who is dying and there is no way to prevent it? Take ur time ofc and if there is a character limit and I just didn’t see it you can just choose randomly if you’d like !! Hope u have a good week !! (⌒▽⌒)♡

Bubble: I absolutely love angsty asks so ofc!! Thank you for the love, know I am sending positive energy back! I wanted to make this accurate, so I do mention suicide. Please note, I am not trying to idealize anything. I have struggled with this. But this is how a select few boys would actually think.

Trigger Warning

"Even if it's not something I can prevent, I'll stay. Until your end, I promise. I have never, ever, felt as though I need someone so much... I'd be willing to go after you, if that's what you'd want."

"I refuse to believe there isn't a cure to this. I shall search day and night, no rest. You will not be leaving me... Not when I'm accustomed to you the way I am."

"I'm not allowing what's mine to leave me, chichinashi. I'll get that Tableware Otaku to come up with something!"

"I don't want you to ever leave. Why must I have the most unfortunate luck, to fall in love with the one dolly I can never keep. You must promise to not leave me entirely, please. I love you too much..."

"I'll spend as much time with you as I can, Bitc- ...Y/N. I won't let you have a single bad memory during this time. I'll give you everything, even during your last moments... Why do I have to lose you when I finally have you to care?"

"I don't... I won't be able to go on without you, you know. I'll be dead the moment you die anyway... Just hold on, for as long as possible. For me, please."

[starwrighter]

I have a cold and that’s scarier than anything I could write this October. Tw suicidal idealizations

So! 3/??? Halloween prompt.

Danny is in Gotham because his sister was invited to tour some prestigious school in Gotham because of how smart she is. Danny’s not resentful, truly he isn’t. He’s proud of her. He’s happier for her than he’s ever been for anyway. It’s just… Hard knowing the future his death stole from him.

Seeing his sister succeed while he still has to fight to keep what little remained of his life is bittersweet. He’d never say any of this out loud because he loves her and she’s one of the only people he can truly count on to support him.

After a few days in Gotham with all these bitter and depressing thoughts Danny start to believe that he needs to die. He doesn’t want to kill himself he just… Wants to not be Fenton or phantom anymore. He doesn’t want be the stupid failure of a kid in a family full of geniuses. He doesn’t want to be seen as a villain or hunted for trying to help people. He’s just so, so so so tired and just want’s to not deal with any of this anymore.

Danny goes ghost for the first time since entering this city. Sitting on a roof with his head tucked in between his legs. When he hears someone drop behind him going on this whole spiel on “Not jumping,” it strikes him as odd because the usual response to seeing phantom is anything but compassion. Danny waves the guy off with a mournful smile and a reassurance of “I think you’re a bit too late to save my life, most that’d happen now is me phasing through the core of the earth”

The guy sits next to him, shocked when his attempts of patting Danny’s shoulder passes right through. Danny can’t help but snicker. “Don’t worry about me I’m still new to the whole ghost thing,” he looks disturbed at Danny’s response but not in the way people usually did when they saw phantom. He introduces himself as nightwing and Danny finally recognizes him as one of Gotham’s vigilantes.

“How do you do it?” The question spills out of his mouth bitterness leaking into his words. Nightwing looks confused.

“Everyone loves you guys, everyone trust’s you,” his eyes water as he speaks

“No matter how many people I save, how many buildings I stop from collapsing and criminals I stop, they still paint me as this monstrous villain,”

“I can’t believe I died for this shit,” Danny scowls, Nightwing is speechless. Danny then decides that he doesn’t want to be turned in to the GIW by a vigilante and dips.

Dick and the entire fam who were listening to the entire encounter are horrified because apparently there is a child who fucking died being a vigilante and people are attacking for it?! They make the connection with the ghost dick talked to and phantom but not the connection between phantom and Danny Fenton. Danny is very confused when the entire justice league comes down on amity park the moment they get home.

[tubborucho]

Tubbo and Badboyhalo – I look in the mirror and remember when I saw/know that I will see you as a reflection

taglist: @pastelvangelion @smallz-o @salineroses @dynamicworms @cindersnows @deadfishisyeq @snyland @missstrawberry @frubbotoxicyuri @haloberry @thecardboardbutterfly @avianchorus @qtubbo @an-egghead @kadextra

dm me if you want in or out of taglist

credits:

1. https://pin.it/1nZjUdS

2. N/A

3. @.dvoyd

4. “So Far So Good: Final Poems” Ursula K. Le Guin

5. “Broken Hierarchies: Poems” Geoffrey Hill

6. “House of Earth and Blood” Sarah J. Maas

7. @.warpromised

8. “How to Cure a Ghost” Fariha Róisín

9. “Dance Dance Dance (The Rat, #4) Haruki Murakami

10. @.aesterismos

11. https://pin.it/1afKWH0

12. https://pin.it/23agLaj

13. https://pin.it/1Bdwsi6

14. “My Year of Rest and Relaxation” Ottessa Moshfegh

15. @.ostolero and @.charlotteinfinityxx

16. darkoceans, the washed up collection

17. https://pin.it/3jictRn

18. twt: @.yuriando

19. “English Song” Fernando Pessoa

20. “Prayer for the Newly Damned” Ocean Vuong

21. @.mjalti

[khaopybara]

❝My wife.❞

LEE SOOHYUK as PARK JOONGGIL and KIM HEESUN as KOO RYEON episode 14 of TOMORROW

[kiybee]

people acting like silco actually appeared to jinx has me cracking up. half-berating her for still having that spark of rebellion? bro that man would never. this girl is having a hallucination that is inadvertently telling her to kill herself. her papa's ghost is not coming back to tell her to become a centrist