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#maybe fundamentally im just … not someone people want to be friends with

liloinkoink · 5 months

Note

as someone who also has so much homework to do. what are your thoughts on treesekai ren (speaking of treesekai, i actually sent that fic to a friend like a year ago who doesn't watch hermitcraft etc and i remember we had fun reading it and giggling over the anime of it all so tysm for that ♡)

i am no longer doing homework so i can share thoughts. it is almost 3am tho so idk theyll be coherent

first im glad you two enjoyed it! dont know how i feel about the fact it's breached containment but it is good to know it holds up

[speaking of, this fic was posted a year ago, so if you dont know what treesekai is, here is the link for you]

second i think all the time about just how lonely treesekai Ren is. ive made posts like this before but Ren is just... he's so lonely. Ren is a character with a lot of love in him, always. he always wants someone to care about. often many someones! he gravitates towards big loyal teams, and he usually spends his time at home building a place for that team to be protected and safe, and is willing to die to defend that home (and he has. twice.)

dogwarts was a big team whose loyalty he took seriously and whose home he died to defend. the shadow alliance had matching skins and, until they went red, all ren's loyalty, and their base of operations was one of the last bases standing bc Ren continually put it back together for his teammates. Ren and BigB died on the doorstep of of box, with ren's last words being about defending it. home and the people in it are important to him

treesekai Ren is the same, but he doesnt really have anywhere to point it. he has a home, but what matters to Ren about a home is that theres people in it. he loves the country he rules but he thinks if he does that hard enough he'll have someone, and he just doesnt. he assumes he can trust his staff, thinks he'll be able to make alliances with other nations, hopes his fiance will be that person he needs. but he isnt! and Ren cant trust him! or his staff! or other royalty! no one else in the world cares about him! many of the people close to him ultimately want him dead!

so, in the game, he ends up paranoid, and he ends up evil, and he ends up dead

but in the fic he meets Martyn, and he gets that connection and affection and care hes been looking for all this time. and like. it fascinates me how much Martyn doesnt know how much hes changed ren's life. Ren isnt evil for nothing--above all he's lonely and hurt. by saving him from loneliness, Martyn saves his life. he could abandon the game plotline then and there, completely forgoing all the normal isekai tropes of running thru every event w future knowledge and picking the best possible outcome, and Ren would no longer die. just by being there and sincerely caring for Ren, Martyn has already achieved the best of all possible worlds. and he doesnt even know it!

i just. i love how lonely he is and how simple he is. he just wants to be loved. he just wants to love someone. he's a dating sim character, after all, and that's the whole point, isn't it? his world exists just so the people in it can be loved, and he's not allowed to have any of that. if youd just give him a romance, he'd be more than happy to be a love interest instead, but he isnt! he isnt allowed! no wonder he loses it. on some level, maybe he knows hes being denied the fundamental purpose for existence in his universe

this is rambly bc its rlly late but im just. it must hurt more than anything to be the one character in a world about love who is meant to be completely unlovable

#oink asks #anonymous #treesekai

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utilitycaster · 8 months

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I saw a thread on Twitter about how FCG and Orym are the two people that would intentionally murder a party member. They even connected that to them being friends of the gods.

(Which is a whole other thing because canon Orym has been more critical of the gods than CR Twitter finds it convenient to admit - “the gods show up when they want”)

Meanwhile, Laudna *literally* trying to feed Delilah FCG’s soul vía Hunger of the Shadow. Of course when that was pointed out to the OP by someone else on Twitter they refused to engage at all.

I know im preaching to the choir but it’s so blatant and infuriating

It really is, and I think the one-two punch of freaking out over FCG and then, when that did not receive a single millisecond of acknowledgment in-game, freaking out over Orym from, again, an episode that aired quite literally three months ago, made a lot of people realize how fucking tired they are of the blatant and infuriating nonsense, week after week.

The gods argument is honestly just a backdrop at this point; per the latest 4SD Imogen is actually leaning towards "hmm, maybe having the structures in place that prevented demon incursion was a good thing", which is actually 100% in line with Keyleth's position of "I don't personally worship the gods and I even have my issues with them, but I recognize they are pretty fundamental to our cosmology and would prefer that the world not fucking fall apart because of an evil wizard." Like, if Laudna were to hypothetically get freed from Delilah by a god? I promise you like half the people would, as they have on so many other things, rapidly flip flop to continue being on the side of Black Heart and/or Purple Heart.

I do actually think Orym would, if necessary, kill someone in the party to save the world. I don't think he'd revel in it, but I think he would. I also think that fucking slaps. Fjord is my favorite Campaign 2 character, and he was famously the character whom Caleb asked to kill him quickly as a called in favor. Like Fjord, Orym doesn't want to die, but I think he will kill or die for the cause, and I think that's great, because this is fiction and that's fucking fun to watch in fiction! Like, *Liam voice* THIS IS A GAME! I have one last ask in my inbox and I think I'll call it a night after that because I have things to do, and I'll elaborate here, but so many bad takes seem to treat characters as real people, and it's like of course I don't wish death on real people for being boring, of course I don't want real people to kill or die for a cause, but sometimes? In fiction? Where the people are pretend? Yeah! I fucking do! Where are these people on Twitter from? Focus on the Found Family?

#answered #Anonymous #cr tag #yes i am proud of that joke yes i will be using it again

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nonbinarypirat · 4 months

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Hiii I love your Iruma-kun analyses!! And since you're open to questions I wanted to ask, what do you think about Kirio and his relationship with Iruma and his ambitions?

damn, i knew someone would ask this LOL. im going to try my hardest to answer this but full disclosure, i have autism and for me, kiriro is a very difficult character to understand because of his morals (or lack there of?) and personality. For me, it's hard to understand people/characters that don't seem to be fully truthful. He's not a fav of mine (im sorry, i know people like him but i can't fully get into him at this moment. maybe if we see him interact more with baal's group.). So i'll try my best! (also i hope yall are ok with frequent posting, i am currently on winter break from college so i have nothing better to do but hyperfixate on this series lol)

Okay, so I think kirio is deeply in love and lust with iruma. I think it's farily obvious he is deeply interested in seeing iruma's "look of despair" in a attracted way, the manga calls him out for being a pervert about it. For Kiriro, Iruma is one of the first characters (besides his childhood friend of course) to ever really be nice to him. He was a friend to him and even if he wasn't being fully truthful with Iruma (like about his true motivations to getting rid of ranks) he did trust iruma with deeply personal information about himself. I think from there is where the obessesion began. Because then, he started to seeing them as kindred spirits who (similarly) went through deeply traumatic experiences in their childhoods, weaker than most, and similar personalities. For the first time, it was like he was being seen by someone (outside of baal). And I think he grew unheathilty attached to that idea of having someone so like him.

That's why I think wanting Iruma see his friends die in front of him was such a big deal for Kiriro. I said this in a different post, but the six fingers operate under the belief that people will all fall to their more primitive selves with the right push. And i think Kiriro wanted that from iruma. he wanted somone even more like him, so deeply intertwined with his experiences. Kiriro's childhood can not be understated, that shit was fucked up. And in turn that fucked him up. Not to say that he couldn't have become the way he is now without his childhood (yes i know, nature vs nurture), but I think the trauma plays a major role in this. He experienced something his brain wasn't able to understand at the time (friend being really heartbroken about the necklace + blaming himself) and according to him, THAT was when he started to long for despair. From there, he wanted another person he perceives as like him to also experience something fucked up so they'll cast away morals too, there by solidifying Iruma's place with Kiriro. Forever fucked up together

Iruma outright rejects that and Kiriro's whole world view is destroyed. Why was this person he considered an equal, a comrad, denying his "affection." His way of making sure they could be together. Kiriro projected too much of himself onto Iruma and by doing so, ignored the things that made them so different from each other fundamentally. And Iruma did the same thing to Kiriro. But Kiriro can't give up Iruma just like Iruma can't give up Kiriro. They want the other in their life but think about the world too differently. So in order to stay together, they both want the other to change, believe their way of thinking and being is better. In this way, I can understand why people ship them together even if I don't. Sort of like a tragic love

What i find interesting is that Kiriro seems to have found his space. He found the connection he was looking for. He is honestly himself (in all his fucked up glory), jokes about his pervertedness, and seems happy. But he can't get rid of the idea of Iruma coming to him. I mean, I don't blame him. It's poetically beautiful how much Kiriro is unapologetically a demon and Iruma is unapologetically a human. At odds but so alike. I think in his own messed up way, the idea of eating iruma is a way of keeping iruma always with him because he now sees he can't force iruma to bend to his ways. And he wants iruma the only way he thinks he can have him. But in the end, even this would end in tragedy.

There isn't really a happy ending to this i believe where all parties are happy. Because if iruma gets his way, ok cool. but kiriro is (at least by this point) too far gone in his belief about demon origins. Kiriro could never be happy, he would need to supress so much of himself for the sake of iruma. And if kiriro gets his way, ok cool. But now he no longer has iruma as an "enemy." the person he felt most alike and connected to is now gone. And I imagine he would just feel empty about that because shit, now he's truly gone and i have nothing else besides the memories

As for his ambitions, I honestly don't understand them besides the iruma part. It feels very, the world hurt me and now i want to see the world hurt too which has been cultivated with his trauma. sorry i can't discuss that part much but thats as far as my autism will grasp. hope you liked this despite that!

#iruma-kun #mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #m!ik #amy kirio #ami kirio #character study #character analysis #i tried my hardest lolol

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liesmyth · 1 year

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that Catholic Augustine thing from wikipedia has me insane as well, but not only because John named him that (what a man!) but because I’m an augustine will come back in AtN truther and like maybe he’ll go through his “painful penance, sorrowing humility and sacrifice of a contrite heart” in the stoma and then he will come out to make amends but not to Jod, but to alecto/whatever is going on with the RBs/River. thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

AUGUSTINE 2: THE RETURN.

He has EATEN RB #4. He has VENUS in his EYES. He REMEMBERS EARTH. He still unfortunately WANTS to FUCK JOHN, but now he has the CLARITY OF MIND to do the right thing. He will PUNCH GOD in the face, and it will be HOMOEROTIC and TRAGIC.

I too am an Augustine Will Return truther but imo any amends should maybe touch on the fact that he was perfectly ready to kill a hundred million people just to wrestle his friend into hell, you are coming down with me, hand in unlovable hand etc. Like, he very much did do that.

Anyway. I spend too much time thinking about what Earth A— would think about Augustine, Saint of Patience, and whether they are the same person at all or that man fundamentally died when he lost every memory? And also how John had the same thought and THAT'S why he renamed all his friends. And how much of Augustine's personality is his own (because the soul is the same and we know the soul plays a big part in TLT) and how much is just him picking up what vibes John was putting down, based on John's memories of A—, which are by definition imperfect because you can't ever really know someone...

IM OBSESSED. THANK U FOR SHARING YOUR TED TALK.

#Anonymous #ask #tlt thoughts #augustine #tlt #alecto bingo card

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theboyandthepeach · 2 months

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… okay, clearly everyone else here is just making you more upset. Let me try. Sorry if I offend you at all during this, it’s not my intention. I really do just want to talk.

Hi, Kieran! You can call me Dusk.

Listen… I have a few questions. You said you only remember little bits and pieces from before Dokutaro, yeah?

Don’t you find that concerning..? Like, at all? I know that it’s probably due to whatever deal you made with him, but… don’t you ever wonder what you’re forgetting, who ELSE you’re forgetting? What about your whole life before him? The good AND the bad? The people and Pokémon who cared about you?

I mean… you even forgot your sister during this. Sure, she was mean, overly controlling, and a fair bit bossy… but she cares. She’s worried about you. I mean, I have sisters myself. Do they annoy me, anger me, and get on my nerves sometimes? Yeah, all the time. Would we all still fight someone to defend the others’ honors? Absolutely, NO hesitation. Something tells me that Carmine would do the same for you, she just… doesn’t know how to not go overboard.

And… I hate to say it, but if you had LOST memories from making the deal with Dokutaro, then isn’t it entirely possible he could be MANIPULATING what remains of those memories? Making you believe things that aren’t true?

I’m not accusing Dokutaro of lying, don’t get me wrong. I’m just saying that… he may not be telling you everything. Now, I know what you might say to that.

“But… he’s my friend! He’s helped me to get stronger! He wouldn’t lie to me, would he?”

Hate to say it, friends lie to friends as well. They tell them what they want to hear. So I want you to think about it, think HARD. Hasn’t this whole situation seemed… weird? I mean, have you even seen yourself recently? You’re… barely even human now.

Sure, it’s in the pursuit of strength, but is strength REALLY worth losing who you are fundamentally as a person? You don’t need to become someone completely different, just because you want to get stronger. You just need to learn how to balance the growth with who you KNOW you are.

Some deals are just too good to be true, after all. And does it really matter how strong you are, if you lost everything you had in order to get that way..?

On that point of balancing growth with who you know you are, if you’re not sure of who you are yourself… maybe we can help you figure that out! You don’t need to go through this alone, Kieran.

Again, I’m sorry if any of this offended you, angered you, or made you upset in any way. I just genuinely wanted to talk to you about this. You don’t need to make a choice about it right now, but… just think about what I said here, please?

-With respect, Dusk (and her Shiny Hisuian Zoroark, Thanatos).

P.S. (from Thanatos the Shiny Hisuian Zoroark)

We all just want to help you, Kieran. We’re all worried. It’s up to you whether or not you’ll believe us, though. I may not know you well, but as a ghost myself, I know full well… There’s always consequences for your actions, and they can poison your future ones, chain you down, and turn things… toxic. Thanatos out.

//ooc MAY I JUST SAY I LOVE THIS AU?? I SPENT LITERALLY 7-ISH HOURS COMING UP WITH THIS MESSAGE TO KIERAN BC I JUST WANTED TO TALK WITH HIM ONE SINGLE TIME. GOD. I’M SO WORRIED FOR HIM BUT I KEEP COMING BACK JUST TO SEE THE ANGST. Sorry for the big wall of text btw, I know it’s probably gonna make things difficult for you--

"I... I never really thought about it. I mean yeah, I want to get stronger... but recently I've been wondering if it's all worth it. And even if Dokutaro got rid of some memories, the memories still come back, despite his efforts."

"Don't tell Dokutaro this, I know he'll get mad, but I've been thinking, and i.... I want to go back, before I made that deal."

"I want to see my sis again."

//ALSO IM GLAD YOU LIKE MY AU!!! You can keep talking to him btw, he doesn't bite (well maybe he does now XD)

#toxic consequences au #irl pkmn #pkmn irl #pokemon irl #irl pokemon #rotomblr #rotumblr #kieran pokemon #pokemon kieran #rival kieran #trainer kieran

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sophieinwonderland · 1 year

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youre saying seeing your body as yourself can cause mental illness but im not taking advice about mental health from a "cis girl tulpa in an AMAB body" ... you are exhibiting clear signs of psychosis and giving advice about sanity? those two don't go together

Oh, thank you for your armchair diagnosis TERF anon. /s

Tell me, would you accept the opinions of psychiatry professors?

“My understanding is [that] hearing voices and communicating with identities, spirits, imaginary friends, tulpas — it all draws on a completely normal propensity,” Veissière tells me in a phone interview. “This is nonpathological voice-hearing; tulpamancers have come to desire auditory and verbal hallucinations.” (Depending on whom you ask in the community, tulpas are not necessarily considered imaginary friends; many believe tulpas have their own minds.) “There is a small but growing body of evidence that lives have been improved in this practice,” Veissière continues. “It helps individuals with social anxiety issues — it aids in theory of mind, the ability to relate to other people. Children who develop imaginary friends are better able to understand people in real life — they develop socio-cognitive abilities to infer what other people want and desire. It’s trainable.”

...

“If something doesn’t hurt, then it’s not pathological,” Lifshitz tells me on the phone. “Think about rumination. Maybe I think a lot, but it’s not depressive unless it’s making me depressed. Being disassociated — having the feeling of multiple agents living inside of you — in and of itself is not fundamentally pathological.” “The thing that’s clear is that tulpamancy helps people,” Lifshitz continues. “Tulpamancy allows folks to feel more relaxed and better able to socialize. In fact, we’re interested in how we could use it for developing better treatments for those who do have DID or psychosis. Perhaps we can teach [patients] how to engage with voices or personalities in a way that might be useful [or] therapeutic.”

But let's take a step back from here for a moment and talk about the bigger issue in this post.

Let's ignore for a moment the multiple experts saying that tulpamancy and plurality aren't pathological. Ignoring experts telling you human experiences aren't pathological is a favorite pastime of TERFs anyway, after all.

Let's highlight instead using perceived mental illness as a means to dismiss people's opinions. Because I think that the inherent ableism of the TERF position is something that is way too commonly glossed over and overlooked

Why would a mental illness disqualify someone from speaking on the subject of mental health?

But this is so fundamental to TERF rhetoric. One part of TERFism is wrongfully pushing an inaccurate belief that being transgender is a mental illness. But the second part is using that wrongfully perceived mental illness as a means of dismissing and placing yourself above them.

The TERF community loves calling transgender people "delusional" and other variations as a means of dismissing them. It's practically built on it.

And I just want to draw attention to TERF ableism for the benefit of any TERFs who have mental illnesses or neurodivergences themselves.

Differences of opinions aside, nobody deserves to be surrounded by people who see them as less human and less deserving of respect because their minds may work in a way that's perceived as abnormal.

And if you think your allies will be more forgiving of your neurodivergences, you might want to think again.

Thank you for your time.

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capseycartwright · 1 year

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six sentence saturday? snippet saturday? sixteen sentence saturday? i crowdsourced a name for this from people much cleverer than me but the truth is i wrote something im really happy with and wanted to share it

“Carla said, when we were talking about Christopher – and crushes – that you know how it is at that age,” Eddie said, pausing. He remembered being eleven. He didn’t really remember it clearly – because listen, he was thirty-four years old, and time was a thief – but Eddie did remember it because that was the time his friends were starting to have crushes on the girls in their class. His best friend at the time, Noah, spent every day for a whole week asking Jessica Mackenzie to hold his hand until she finally relented during Friday recess and held his hand for a whole five minutes.

Eddie hadn’t really understood the appeal.

That – that was the first time Eddie felt as though there was something fundamentally wrong with him. On reflection – now, especially, as an adult, as a father himself – it was sad to think Eddie had been a child himself the first moment he had felt there was something wrong with him. Children shouldn’t – children shouldn’t feel like there was something wrong with them because they didn’t want to hold someone’s hand.

Buck nodded, still looking concerned.

“I don’t know how it is,” Eddie admitted, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t – I don’t know how it is because I didn’t have a crush, when I was Christopher’s age. I – I thought maybe it was just that I was just a bit behind my friends, on that front, but, um – I think there’s another reason why I didn’t have crushes on girls the same way my friends did.”

Say it, say it, say it.

Eddie sort of felt like he was yelling, internally – just, say it. It couldn’t be that hard – it shouldn’t be that hard.

tagging @thatbuddie @hattalove @clusterbuck @buckactuallys @mellaithwen @gayhoediaz @dearestdiaz @like-the-rest-of-la @zainclaw @littlespoonevan @lilythesilly @sibylsleaves in case u also wanna share something in a rogue saturday tag game

#in which i ramble #in which lorna writes fic #anyways the last ep had so much queer coding it’s made me write a gay eddie fic but actually a gay asexual eddie fic #he’s been marinating in my brain all week

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streamafterlaughter · 1 year

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Fundamental Differing

gif credit

masterlist | playlist | chapter IV

Chapter V: Why Are You So Far Away?

rating: 18+ MDNI

summary: The tour family decides to celebrate a successful opening night, attempting to accept their fate as being stuck with each other for the next few months. You grow acutely aware of yourself, as well as of Eddie’s newfound pessimistic attitude.

tags/warnings: rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader, gnc!reader, 90s AU, excessive alcohol consumption, (hard) drug use, eddie is an asshole, bff!steve, angst, hurt, mutual pining, brief smut

a/n: (for the sake of this fic let’s pretend the viper room opened in ‘92 instead of ‘93 yeah?) Hi everyone! Last chapter didn’t do so hot, im hoping i kicked up the Angst Level enough for this one to get y’all interested. i’m pretty proud of how this is turning out so far, and i’m finding i’m coming up with so many more ideas. sorry for typos, my fingers have been so cold all day. Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. Reblog to support the author!

——

September 1988

New York City, New York

“Eddie, I can smell her on your fucking clothes!” You slam the car door, intending on hailing a cab just to get away from him.

“Y/n, I swear, nothing happened. She’s just a groupie! She comes to all of our shows, we’re friends. We danced, that’s it! I don’t get why this is such a big deal.”

“Seriously? What’s not to get? You let these girls think they have a shot with you, you play with them until you get bored, and you come home to me smelling like cheap perfume, and you don’t see why that bothers me?! I swear, you’d let anything with half a brain ride you, and I’m tired of it.” You keep walking down 54th, unsure where you’re going at this point.

“What do you want me to do, Y/n? I can’t help how they act around me.”

“You can help how you act around them, and you don’t! Fuck off, I’ll get a hotel for the night. Don’t call me.”

“Don’t be stupid, come back with me. We can fix this.”

“There’s nothing to fix. I need space from you.”

“We leave tomorrow!”

“So give me until tomorrow!”

—

Present Day

Eddie’s POV

“We should celebrate!” Gareth passes him the joint they’re sharing, and Eddie rolls his eyes as he inhales.

“Celebrate what, exactly?”

“C’mon, man! Our first night of tour!” He backhands Eddie’s arm, and is met with a glare. He doesn’t retreat, though. “You don’t have to come, but I think you should. Could be fun.”

Eddie passes the joint to Jeff. “Maybe, I really need to shower first.” His shirt, damp with sweat, is tucked into his back pocket. Before he can escape, though, you and your bandmates enter the green room. Jeff passes you the joint, and you accept gratefully. Eddie can’t bring himself to look at you, but your presence looms over him like a cloud.

“You guys coming out tonight?” You ask, passing the joint to your drummer. Eddie doesn’t know her name, not having made the effort to meet the rest of your band after splitting up. “Heard the Viper had some room tonight, might be able to get in with you guys there.” You giggle, and Eddie can’t help but lock his eyes on you then. He catches yours, and watches as your smile falters only slightly. “No pressure, of course.” You speak directly to him, in front of everyone, and no one seems to notice the shift in your tone. Eddie does though.

“No, I think it’ll be fun.” He responds, more bitterly than he intends. He has no desire to party, not with you there, where he’s able to watch as guys, girls, and gender non conforming people alike attach themselves to you, begging to hook up. He knows he can have whoever he wants, so the thought of you getting picked up shouldn’t bother him, but he can’t wrap his mind around watching you with someone else.

“Great!” You clap your hands together. “It’s settled. I’ll call us a few cabs.” You pluck the joint from Eddie’s fingers, as casually as ever, and look right at him as you take another hit. He can’t bring himself to break eye contact, watching you push the smoke into your nose with your tongue. You hand the roach back to him, still lit. “See you later.”

Your POV

“What the fuck was that?!” Robin exclaims as you change out of your sweatpants and into a pair of shredded jeans.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Your voice is an octave above normal, and you sing your words with a tremble in your voice.

“You were flirting. Heavily!” Sylvie speaks up, brushing their hair back before tying it in a bun. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get Munson all riled up!”

“As if.” You roll your eyes, but your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You’d known what you were doing, talking to Eddie like that. “I was testing the waters. Being civil.” You argue, earning groans from your friends. “Anyway, it’s not like he wants anything to do with me! And I want nothing to do with him. We’re just coworkers.”

Robin snorts. “Right, coworkers.”

“Cabs are here!” Steve peeks his head into your room, causing a commotion of shrieks from your half dressed bandmates.

“Knock much?!” Robin throws a rolled up pair of socks at Steve, nailing him right in the nose.

“Sorry! I’ll meet you outside!” The door clicks shut.

The Viper Room is packed, both with celebrities and those trying to become them. You exit your taxi shortly before the second pulls up, hauling Corroded Coffin’s members. As you climb out of the back seat, you’re met with the stench of booze and piss, the combination of fluids you’ve gotten used to in just the last few days.

Steve throws his arm over your shoulder, and does the same with Robin on his left side. “Ready to party?” He asks, dragging you both with him as the bouncer lets you inside. You feel Eddie shove past you, into the darkness, watching as he’s immediately swarmed by young, pretty girls in fishnets and tight dresses. Steve must notice your shift in demeanor, because he tightens his grip on you as you approach the bar.

“You were insane tonight! I’m so proud of you guys.” Steve sips his beer while you wait for your drink, a whiskey neat, and slams the bar with his free hand. He’s clearly already tipsy, having spent the whole night drinking while you performed.

“Thanks, Stevie. It really means a lot.” You thank the bartender as she hands you your glass, and watch as she does a double take.

“Oh my god, you’re Y/n! And you’re Robin!” She hands Robin her vodka soda with a now shaky hand.

“Yeah, hey!” Robin greets enthusiastically. “Nice to meet ya!”

“I caught your show tonight. Had to leave before CC to make my shift, but you guys rock. These are on me.” She waves Steve’s hand away as he tries to pay for the drinks.

“That’s so sweet, thank you!” You gulp your drink down. “Another?”

“Coming right up!” She scurries away to retrieve your drink.

“You’re practically celebrities!” Steve nudges you, and you let the alcohol in your bloodstream lighten your mood. Over Steve’s shoulder, you see Eddie and Garett, sitting in the middle of a gaggle of young women, one of which is sitting in his lap. Eddie catches your stare, but looks away quickly to the girl on top of him, whispering something in her ear. Her reaction suggests he’s said something naughty, covering her giggle with a dainty painted hand. You roll your eyes, and grab Steve’s wrist. “Come dance, big boy!”

Steve groans as you and Robin each pull him to the dance floor as Rhythm Is A Dancer blares through the club speakers. Steve twirls you around, then Robin, as Sylvia and Lilith find you in the sea of sweaty bodies. You laugh at Robin’s horrendous dance moves, letting the strobe lights and loud music take over your brain. You barely notice Eddie and the girl attached to him enter the floor. She grinds on him heavily, and he’s got his hands on her hips as she gyrates to the beat. You roll your eyes, annoyed by how easy he’s let himself be with his groupies. But it’s none of your business now, who he chooses to spend his time with. You wrap your arms around Steve’s neck, closing the gap between the two of you as Robin migrates to dancing with Lilith and Sylvia.

“You okay up there?” Steve taps your temple with his finger, his other hand resting gently on your waist. “Don’t think I can’t see what’s going on.”

You groan, resting your forehead on his shoulder. “Enlighten me then, what is going on?”

“You’re trying to make Eddie jealous, right? I mean, that’s why you’re dancing with me like this?”

“I'm that transparent, huh?”

Steve only chuckles. “Only because I’ve known you for six years. You don’t have to pretend you’re into me, Y/n, don’t worry. My feelings won’t be hurt. On top of that, you’ve been denying free drinks all night, and from decent looking people.”

You push a small laugh from your throat. “Please, I know that. Plus, I wouldn’t do that to Harley.” She’d been severely into Steve since meeting him years ago, and she’s been desperate for you to set her up with him. Steve is clueless, though, so you’re taking your time. “I’m not in the mood to entertain right now, I’d rather drink with you guys.”

The song ends, and you watch Eddie take the pretty girl off the floor, his arm linked with hers, and you book it to the bar for a third glass of hard liquor.

Eddie’s POV

He snorts the key bump she gives him as Just Like Heaven begins, a song he knows you love, blinking rapidly as he wipes the white powder from his nostrils. Coke isn’t his go to, but it gets the job of forgetting you done much faster. He tries to be subtle, watching as you dance with Steve, your arms clasped around his neck the way you used to dance with him, to nothing, in the living room of his uncle’s trailer. Now, though, he’s in the back of the club, surrounded by girls whose names he didn’t bother to ask, cutting lines as bottles of expensive liquor are brought over to him.

“Slow down, Ed, doesn’t look like Steve’s gonna be around to yank you into bed tonight.” Gareth nods his head toward your group, where you are whispering something into Steve’s ear, something that causes him to chuckle.

“Who needs him?” Eddie grumbles, taking the rolled up dollar bill from a girl clad in latex, and snorting two more lines from the table in front of him. Garett rolls his eyes, and shoves himself from the plush couch.

“You need to collect yourself,” Gareth checks his watch. “Bus leaves in two hours.” And he leaves the group. Eddie watches as Gareth greets you and Steve, and seemingly asks to speak to you alone. He averts his eyes when you glance over to him, a sad look in your eyes.

Your POV

“Gareth, it’s none of my business.” You pinch the bridge of your nose as Gareth relays the night's events to you, explaining that he’s worried for Eddie’s well-being. “What he does with his little friends is not my problem anymore. It’s not really yours, either.” You look at Gareth, whose eyes are filled with fear and sadness for his friend. “I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m not asking you to, not at all. I just don’t understand what’s gotten into him. He’s meaner, he’s less enthusiastic about performing. I feel like we’re losing him.”

You shrug, taking a sip of what you believe to be your fifth drink. “I lost him years ago. Surprised it took you all this long to catch up.”

Gareth sighs. “Well, you guys were great tonight. Killer show.”

You smile sadly at who was once your boyfriend’s best friend. You feel his pain, watching the person he cares about lose himself to the toxicity of fame. It’s not fair, having to stand by while Eddie destroys himself, but you learned a long time ago there’s only so much you or anyone else can do to stop it. “You wanna hang with us? Get away from the bad energy for a while?”

Gareth nods and you call the bartender over. “What’s your poison?”

“I’ll just have a beer, whatever you got.” He tells the pretty bartender, and she nods.

“Coming right up, Gareth!” She winks and grabs a glass.

Eddie’s POV

He stumbles into the bathroom, closely behind a woman in a tight red dress. Once she’s locked the stall behind them, she busies herself with his belt. “I’ve been dreaming of this moment since I saw you guys perform a few years ago. You look so good on stage, I can’t believe you’re not with anyone.” She babbles, much to Eddie’s annoyance. She drops to her knees, and Eddie screws his eyes shut, resting his head against the wall, trying to relax as she takes him into her mouth. He can't help but picture you below him, back at The Hideout, in a different dingy bathroom. Whoever this girl is, she knows what she’s doing, and she’s probably blown a fair few rockers and movie stars in this very bathroom.

He finishes quickly, grunting as she moans around his cock before swallowing him down. She pops back up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “You taste good, pretty boy.” The nickname hits him like a bullet, and he has to shove by her to unlock the stall. “Did I say something wrong?” But Eddie doesn’t answer, just throws the bathroom door open, and lets himself be consumed by the busy room of crowded bodies, the room spinning around him.

Your POV

“We should get going,” Steve shouts over the music, and you nod. “Gareth, get your boys, we gotta get on the road if we want any time to recuperate before your show tomorrow.”

Gareth nods, and runs off to find his band mates. You spot Eddie, standing against the bar, resting his head in his hand. You go to approach him, but Robin grabs your arm before you can. “He’s not your problem. Don’t make him one.” She’s stern, but you’re extremely drunk, and you don’t really care what happens. You pull yourself from her grip, and she lets you walk away.

“Hey!” You shout, loud enough for him to hear you over the blaring guitars of Head Like A Hole. “Time to go.”

When Eddie looks up at you, you take a step back. Even in the dim club lights, you can see the darkness in his eyes. His face falls as he recognizes you, and turns toward the bar. “Hey, can I get another?” He shakes his empty glass, and the bartender nods.

You interject, throwing your arm over his. “Actually, we’re leaving, and I’m cutting you off.” You grab Eddie’s arm, but he pulls away roughly.

“Leave me alone.”

“Eddie, we have to go.” You yank him again, and he shoves you off, causing you to stumble in your intoxicated state. “We have to be in San Francisco by noon, we have to get on the road!”

Eddie groans, and the bartender interrupts. “Your lover’s right, honey, you don’t look good. Go get some sleep.”

“They’re not my lover, and it’s none of your business.” He spits, and you decide that’s enough.

“Get up.” Your voice is cold, your expression made of stone, and he realizes you mean business. He pushes out of the stool, stumbling slightly as he walks away, pushing past you as he does. You sigh, and turn to the bartender to thank her, apologizing for Eddie’s behavior.

“Don’t worry, hun. I’ve gotten worse, from people way more famous than him. Just hope y’all make it home okay.”

“We’ll try. It’s gonna be a long ride, though.” You slap a twenty on the bar, and go to find your friends.

You barely make it out of the club, tripping on the curb as you dig for your cigarettes. Before you find them, someone holds one out in front of you, wrapped between two ringed fingers. You meet Eddie’s eyes, still blown out from the drugs, and take his offer with lips pursed. “Thanks.”

He nods once, and lights the cigarette for you. You inhale deeply, letting the smoke do its job of increasing your heart rate, even though Eddie’s proximity to you is doing enough of that.

“Why’d you do that?” You barely hear him, and only realize he’s speaking to you when you look at his face, eyes locked onto you. “You embarrassed me.”

You can't help but roll your eyes at him, taking another drag of your cigarette. “You were embarrassing yourself, Eddie. I had nothing to do with it.” You don’t apologize, you don’t try to make nice, regardless of how much your heart hurts. You don’t like watching Eddie fall apart, no matter what your relationship with him is. It still stings, how cold he is to you, and you’ve come to the realization there’s only so much you can do to save him from himself. “I don’t care what you do, how much you drink, or who you fuck in the club bathrooms, but we have shit to do on top of it. And I won’t let you ruin this for me.” You stand your ground, even when Eddie’s eyes flicker from anger to sadness. “I’m not responsible for you. But you need to start at least pretending to care about yourself again, or someone’s gonna hand your ass to you before you can clock it.” You flick your butt onto the ground, stomping it out with the toe of your boot. “Get your shit together.” Before Eddie can respond, the buses have pulled up behind the club, and you walk away from him, linking your arm with Robin’s.

Eddie’s POV

“C’mon, up you go.” Steve heaves Eddie up the stairs of the bus, and down the aisle to the bed in the back. “Sleep it off.” He’s pissed, Eddie realizes, and dares to push him further.

“What is your problem?” Eddie asks pointedly, lighting another cigarette before offering one to Steve. Steve takes one, lights it, and sucks harshly. “Never seen ole Stevie so wound up.”

“You’re such an asshole.” Steve turns to face Eddie, who’s crammed into the corner between the bed and the wall of the bus, rubbing his temples. “You got the Rockstar Douchebag act down, though, I’ll give you that.”

“Glad you finally caught on, too bad it doesn’t change anything.”

“Fine, be that way, but don’t fucking take it out on Y/n like that.”

Eddie sits up, suddenly fully awake. “What are you talking about?”

“They’ve been so fucking nervous out about touring with you, about seeing you again, and you’re walking off with the first skank to bat her eyelashes at you. On top of that, the way you talk to them, to me, even to your fucking bandmates, is unacceptable. What happened to you, Ed?”

Eddie sighs, taking in his former best friend’s harsh criticisms. “Well, Steve,” He spits, “I almost fucking died, I lost the love of my life, I got thrown into this almost instantly after graduating high school. There’s only so much I can control.”

“Your attitude should be one of those things.” Steve’s tone is even, stern. “And for your information, I almost died that day, too. You don’t see me treating my friends like they’re the ones that tried to kill me.” Before Eddie can argue, Steve slides the door shut, and stomps toward his bunk, leaving Eddie in the dark alone. He shoves his face into his pillow, letting out a long, angry groan, before flipping onto his stomach, and falling into another fitful sleep.

Your POV

You rise from your bunk, dazed, as the bus pulls into the club’s back lot. You’ve never been to San Francisco, but you can’t even bring yourself to enjoy the nice weather before security greets you, hustling past the crowd of fans that have camped out for your show. You wave to a few of them, earning excited squeals in response, and it’s then that you become acutely aware of the pouring in your head.

Once inside, you begin setting up for sound check as CC makes their way to their room. While you’re figuring out your pedals, a short, round man with a luscious beard, greets your band. “Hey, DDA, welcome. I’m Rich, I own the Chameleon Club. We’re so excited to have you guys tonight, please make yourselves at home. Your riders have been fulfilled, everything is in your dressing room! Let us know if you need anything else.” You wave your hand in thanks, and he walks off to introduce himself to the headliner.

Eddie’s POV

When the club owner leaves their dressing room, he lays down on the tiny couch in the room, trying to nurse his hangover. His bandmates babble, cracking open beers and lighting joints, enthusiastic about the show tonight. Someone taps him on the shoulder, and he opens his eyes to Steve standing over him, offering a bottle of water. He takes it, thanking him wordlessly, and gulps it down to soothe his headache. “You guys need anything?” Steve asks, addressing the room.

“Nah, thanks man.” Jeff offers him a joint, and he accepts, turning to Eddie. “How you feelin’?”

“I feel like someone ran me over, then backed up to run me over again.”

Steve snorts. “Good, you deserve it.” He offers Eddie his hand, and Eddie uses it to pull himself off the couch. “You gonna survive?”

“Why do you keep asking me that?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Because you’ve been acting like you’re on the verge of death since tour started. I’m right to worry.”

“I’m fine, I always rally.” Eddie gives Steve an unconvincing smile, and Steve huffs in response.

“Alright, gentlemen,” Eddie announces, earning the attention of the room. “I’m sorry for my behavior these last few days, I promise I’ll do better. Starting now. Let’s go check some fucking sound, yeah?!”

Gareth humors him, clapping more with the relief that Eddie’s acting human again. Jeff joins in, whooping his approval. The three of them charge out of the room, cheering like they’ve just won a long DnD campaign.

Eddie’s hollering dies down as they reach the stage, just in time to catch your band soundchecking. Jeff and Gareth stand behind him, each resting a comforting hand on his shoulders. “You alright?” Jeff whispers, examining Eddie’s expression, bracing for the dam to break.

Eddie doesn’t answer right away. He’s hypnotized, captivated by you. You’re soundchecking his song, still in the sweats and extra long t-shirt you’d probably slept in, singing to the empty floor of the club. You pluck the strings of your guitar, stopping every few seconds to adjust a string or tap a pedal.

“Ed?” Gareth snaps him out of his daze. “You good?”

Eddie nods, blinking rapidly, suddenly unable to focus his eyes. “I’m good. I’m so good.” He’s trying to be, at least. He refocuses his attention on you as the lights adjust, giving you that glow again. When you finish the song, you start packing up, and you glance in his direction. He realizes you’re wearing one of his old shirts, a worn out Black Sabbath tee he thought he’d just lost. Eddie doesn’t look away from you this time, holding your gaze in his for as long as he can manage. You look away first, and he bites back a smile when you tuck your hair behind your ear.

Your POV

“Hey,” Sylvie bends down to help unplug your wires. “You doin’ alright? I saw that,” they nod toward the curtain, where Corroded Coffin have been lurking for the last five minutes.

“Yeah, I’m okay. How’d we sound?”

“Pitch perfect, just hope the light guy knows what he’s doing during Choke.” Sylvie rolls their eyes, and you chuckle. You hear footsteps behind you, and turn to see Eddie, Jeff, and Gareth lugging their own instruments on stage. Behind them, a few guys on the crew follow with more instruments and amps. The four of you gather your things, and more guys on your crew come to help you. You feel Eddie’s eyes on you as you exit the stage, refusing to return his gaze. You stop behind the curtain, daring to eavesdrop on their private practice.

“You comin?” Robin whispers at you, and you shake your head.

“Okay,” she comes back to stand next to you, and you shake your head again.

“You go ahead, I’ll be right there. I’m fine, I promise.” You’re not sure just yet if that’s true, but you want to believe it. Robin squeezes your hand in understanding, then jogs back to the rest of your band.

You set your guitar down gently in the spare stand next to you, and take a seat amongst the curtains out of Eddie’s eyeline.

“Right, what are we opening with?” Eddie plugs his guitar in, and begins fiddling with the knobs. He still uses his Warlock, something you find charming. Even after all the money he’s made, the offers he’s had to play plenty of expensive guitars, he still cherishes the one he bought himself in high school.

“We open with The Crawl.” Gareth says, twirling his drumstick. You know the song, you remember when Eddie was struggling to write it, sitting in his bedroom at the trailer, asking your opinions on chord progressions.

“Right, yeah,” Eddie begins strumming the intro. You sway as they run through the song once, stopping every so often to adjust a guitar or an amp.

You know Eddie’s voice is beautiful, but it sends chills through you when you hear it in the empty room. His voice is smooth and low, much unlike the loud rasps of other bands in the genre. He begins to sing as the others adjust their instruments, testing his in-ear and microphone.

Deep underground, somewhere I shouldn’t be / I’m stuck in a hell built only for me / But you’re down here too / and you’re making it worse / ‘cause I've got a blessing / and gave you the curse.

I tried going alone, accepting my fate / I let myself believe I had what it takes / But watching you follow, I started to fall / And now I’m stuck down here, and I start to crawl.

Eddie paints the picture of the scary, dark place you know all too well, twisting his words around the loud, angry instruments, sending a shock down your spine. His voice is hopeless, angry, frightened even as the song builds to a chaotic climax, where Eddie seems to growl the final chorus.

You sing along quietly, remembering every word from the months you spent listening to it as Eddie recorded. Regardless of your feelings toward him, you can’t deny Eddie’s raw talent when it comes to lyricism and songwriting.

When they finish, you heave yourself from your spot on the floor, when Eddie says, “Feel free to watch the rest of the show.” You freeze, your back turned to the stage, feeling his eyes on you. You turn slowly, arms raised in surrender.

“I come in peace.” You state, begging your voice not to break.

Eddie shrugs. “‘Kay guys, shall we?”

Gareth hesitates, turning to you with worried eyes. You return a confused look, and he sighs with defeat. You don’t realize what he’s trying to communicate until it’s too late.

The drums kick in, and you vaguely recognize the song. When Eddie utters the first words, your blood runs cold.

We were everything I ever wanted / All I could ask for / But you walked out last night, and now I’m sleeping on the floor / I haven’t seen you in years now, i hope you’re doin’ well / but if you aren’t, i couldn’t care, i’ll see you soon in hell.

I begged the skies to give you back / asked what I had to do / but that phone kept ringin off the hook and i left myself undo.

You can’t listen anymore, feeling each line dig the hole in your chest deeper and deeper. You snatch your guitar, and sneak away as the chorus fades from your earshot.

I lost myself when I lost you, / and now I let myself undo, / You broke my heart when you left, too / and I’ve got scars to fuckin’ prove.

You hold back tears as you enter the green room, biting your lip to keep it from quivering. Deep breaths, it’s an old song, you try to reassure yourself, but Eddie’s smug face as he started the song suggests he still feels that way. You decide there, he’s not worth fighting for anymore, and you’re done trying to be anything more than coworkers. No more inviting him out just for him to hang out with groupies five years his junior.

“Hey, Y/n! We’re discussing outfits, help me pick something out!” Lilith holds out two skirts, a black pleated mini and a long floral.

You point to the mini skirt. “This one’s sexy.” You state, matter-of-factly, and she nods. You dig through your tour bag, packed with plenty of different garments, but nothing speaks to you. “What about me?” You ask your friends, and Robin digs through her own duffel.

“What about this?” She holds up a cropped black t shirt with Eat The Rich plastered across it. You chuckle, remembering the shirt from high school. “I think it’s yours anyway.”

You take the shirt from her, and match it with a pair of black tripp pants, clattering as you slide them over each leg. You look good, and you feel better as your friends send compliments your way. “Wanna go get some lunch? I’m so bored hanging out in back rooms all day. Let’s go explore!” Robin offers you her hand, and you take it, off to adventure the city.

——

chapter vi

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills | send a message to be added🫶

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korodere · 5 months

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im a bit bothered by this discussion of suicide happening on twitter, and its probably because of recent events, but i wanna pick at it

i don't know that i think suicide is cowardly, but i do think it is selfish. people may argue that it's not -- that your life and body is your own and you should be able to choose when to die. but that's not quite right, and is only coming very deeply mentally ill, hurt, and pained individuals and i acknowledge that.

is it selfish to want someone to live despite the pain they endure daily? i don't think so. i think we will always love the people around us. pain that can be fixed, mended, and taken care of should not be a reason to die --- it's obviously different for people with physical, incurable ailments, but mental illness is not a forever thing. and even then.

i think people like me, and people like my best friend who took her own life in august, have this sense that they are permanently broken. that i will always just be like this. and sure, maybe, yea, i'll always deal with the things i did not choose to have happen to me, the trauma and permanent mental scars, but that does not mean i will always be miserable forever. sure i will always deal with some after effect of these feelings and emotions, that this pain and suffering ive endured will always be apart of me.

but that's not... bad? i've felt, recently, that darkness is a fundamental part of being a human being, and being alive. that while in my past i completely avoided sadness, pain, agony, and sorrow and the portrayal and discussion of it in art, in recent years i have leaned on it more and more. there comes a point where the darkness in my own head and the pain surrounding me becomes too much to simply bear with, ignore, and suffocate.

my life would not be my life if not for the suffering. i dont think people should suffer, necessarily, but that life without sadness and pain and sorrow would be meaningless. that you should continue to live regardless of the sadness and pain you experience.

i could die tomorrow. and i wouldn't want to die sad. she had the same opinion, but she took it into her own hands; she died at her happiest, after finally meeting me in person and getting to spend time with me for a week, doing a bunch of things we'd always wanted to do together and talked of doing for the past decade we'd known each other.

i'll die someday, everyone will, so i should just enjoy myself anyways. i should just live. i wouldn't want to die tomorrow feeling like i missed out on so much. i don't want to take my own life despite the pain and agony i feel, i want to keep going.

time will pass anyways, so i want to do everything i can, i want to persevere, i don't want to give in to my sadness again and miss out on so much of life.

i want the impact i leave to be good. i think hers was, too. i think if she had stuck it out, it could've been even better.

the conclusion i find myself at is that these feelings of wanting to die, of wanting the pain to end, are understandable. i feel them a lot of the time. but. they're selfish. and that i don't wish to hurt others just to selfishly end my own pain.

and that despite pain and suffering, that is just apart of life. and that it should be embraced, and understood.

mm. not sure what this is any good for. but take it anyways.

#kota.txt #suicide tw

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genderfluidarchive · 2 months

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I know that clothes ≠ gender but sometimes I feel like I'm faking and I'm not a "true" genderfluid person, because I really do like dresses and frilly clothes and girl-ish stuff in general… But sometimes I like to wear them even in my masc days, and I feel like I don't have the right to ask people to refer to me with he/him pronouns because of it…

Idk if somone else feels like this, but I'd appreciate if someone had a solution to it!!

i definitely understand feeling like your gender somehow isn't valid because of your traits or hobbies or likes or presentation.

so how to deal with it?

disclaimer that often it takes some time to get over internalized transphobia, just keep working at it and reminding yourself that you are valid and can be whoever you want to be. forever.

ok first of all: everything gendered is totally arbitrary. there is nothing that is inherently masculine or feminine, technically. humans just like to make categories and put labels on things even when there's no true meaning or reason behind it. if you lived in a different country or a different time period, different things would be considered masculine. different things would be considered feminine. it truly doesn't matter in the scheme of who you are. whether you're a girl who likes tech or a guy who collects american girl dolls, you're still your gender.

second of all: do a little thought exercise for me and think of it in terms of other people. flip the genders - for instance, if a girl was really into weightlifting and other "masculine" hobbies, she'd just be a tomboy or butch girl. you would still respect her as a girl, right? and if you knew a guy who likes frills and pretty things, wouldn't you still respect him as a guy? why should it be any different for you? i mean this in a completely positive way - you are not the specialest person in the world, and that's a good thing. and i have to tell myself this too lmao. there is nothing that makes you so fundamentally different from other people that you don't deserve your gender and identity respected regardless of how you present.

third of all: look for cis men who are really feminine. look for cis men who are just kinda feminine. look for feminine men. find media with gender-non-conforming characters. there are plenty of them. number one: it will make you feel more normal. number two: would you question their identity because of how they present or what they like? no. at least i hope not lol.

fourth, maybe: create OCs that are like you. create art about your experience. find other people who are genderfluid and like feminine things. find friends who you know will accept and respect your identity. remind yourself that you deserve to be respected.

p.s. my younger brother has a bed full of plushies, wears makeup sometimes, and owns a corset that im lowkey jealous of but i can't steal bcos we don't wear the same size *pouts grumpily*. my ex-boyfriend liked skirts and split dyed his hair white and red. boys are all different. you're as valid as a boy/masc person (when you are one) as everyone else.

i hope something in this helped! go listen to your favorite song n be kind to yourself. you rock!

#genderfluid #genderfluid things #genderfluidity #genderfluid experiences #genderfluid positivity #kiley talks #genderfluid tips #kiley answers

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lauvra · 6 months

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This is partly for me and partly for you. Just because someone has seen a side of you you're ashamed of doesn't mean you should prune that relationship / friendship. To attempt to surround yourself with only people who've seen you at your most generous, successful and witty, intelligent, ambitious, attractive and considerate is to avoid the kind of intimacy vital to achieving real connection with other human beings because we're all gross and weird, say the wrong things, can be cruel, mean and stupid, get wasted and knock each other down like dominoes and insecure and regress oh the regression by God the regression so just let people see you ugly and if you're so blessed that they will; let them accept you when you crawl back with your tail between your legs so they have someone they know will accept them when God forbid they have an ugly moment, that's how friendship works. Understand your feelings - when you have strong ones, ask yourself why they're fucking happening. Don't just ignore them. It'll all happen again with someone else, somewhere else. No, don't prune yourself. I see you.

My mum would always tell me that feelings aren't facts and that statement felt less and less malicious as I got older and independently learned that the way I feel shouldn't justify acting out against others no matter how strong my emotions are because my emotions are often residuals from the past; sort of inherited reactions. But I think it's too dismissive and I want to add that that doesn't mean they aren't 'true' though, in an important way and it certainly doesn't mean they should be ignored or pushed to the side. They rise again precisely because they're mismanaged. We often only learn to manage them through maladapted attempts to overcome them, it's fine. Whether the mismanagement is in repeatedly treating them as presently true and forming habits that keep a certain cycle alive or swallowing the emotion and finding that wow the problem doesn't change, even when the environment does or the characters participating do. Maybe I'm being too vague or not vague enough, I guess the reason I'm thinking about this if I can be clearer is that sometimes I have a 'reaction' to people and I convince myself that they're the issue; because I want them to be the issue. I can acknowledge that. Even if they haven't reacted badly to me, if they've seen me in a negative light I want to push them away before they can do it when I'm in a weakened state of assumed safety. Yeah it's all pretty obvious. AM I MAKING SENSE?????? I FIND IT SO HARD TO MAKE FRIENDS BECASUE IM SO EMBARRASSED ALL THE TIME ABOUT WHO I AM FUNDAMENTALLY BUT THEY LOVE ME. THEY'VE LOVED ME PUKING ON THEIR FLOORS, THEY'VE LOVED ME SCREAMING DOWN THE STREET, THEY'VE LOVED ME BROKE AND IN DEBT TO THEM, THEY'VE LOVED ME UGLY AND THEY'VE LOVED ME OBNOXIOUS AND WHEN I'VE REFUSED TO ANSWER THE PHONE let them love you ( i AM telling MYSELF) BECAUSE YOU ARE ALSO ALL THE GOOD THINGS AND THEY KNOW THAT AND THEY HOPE YOU KNOW THAT ABOUT THEM WHEN THEY'RE ANNOYING TOO

#me #word

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scaredgirlhorny · 4 months

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people have looked at me my entire life like im some sad puppy who just doesnt know whats happening, whos just too fucking stupid to understand what the Real People are talking about, or too stupid to understand to not say this or that. literally one time my friends made so many jokes about how stupid i was over the course of like a week that i had to ask them to stop cause it permanently affected my self esteem like to this day. i always feel like im saying the wrong thing i always feel like im missing some cue or clue on what to do that should be obvious and i never feel like i fit in with anyone, even people who may relate to that. like i just. idk. thats why i leaned into the puppy thing. cause i want to take this thing that has hurt me for so long and like. do it on purpose. i *am* too stupid to say the right thing so dont let me talk, just allow me to bark so i dont have to think. i *dont* fit in with everyone cause im fundamentally below them and it makes me happy. if someone can love me when im literally a dumb dog, maybe they will like it when im just a dumb person who talks too much and says too many jokes that arent funny. if it did happen i wouldnt believe it, but the puppy thing is like an escape from having to worry about all that. all the mind games and mental gymnastics of normal conversation goes away cause im just a dumn lil puppy who doesnt even understand big words. i can finally get a fucking break

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gayadhd · 1 year

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ever since realizing that, no-this isnt just adhd, autism is definitely in the mix- everything just makes so much sense to me. but, because of what i am now aware of and observing in not only my behvaior but how others see me and interact with me, i almost wish i hadn’t; it is heartbreaking for me to finally realize just WHY it is so difficult for me to interact with people and make friends. although it is relieving to know it isnt all because of my own doing, it hurts so bad to realize that other people see the obvious difference i was so oblivious to, and that because of that they see me as “other”, “weird”, “confusing”, and decide to just avoid me entirely.

the alienization i feel as someone neurodivergent is astounding and oh so obvious to me now. im not like them; they dont want to hang out with me because im different; they dont understand me. they can laugh and giggle and do whatever it is they do all the while being able to ignore completely that one classmate who weirds them out. part of me is almost grateful- that at least i am not being bullied or made fun of. but the separation and loneliness i feel as the only neurodivergent person in a group of neurotypicals is incredibly depressing.

i have tried so hard and for so long to be palatable for the people around me, not quite knowing what i was doing wrong and why i couldnt make friends. wondering what was wrong with me that people just didnt like me. crying and changing my personality (masking) every couple of months to test and see that MAYBE if i changed THIS part of myself, people would like me. and ultimately, just resigning to the fact that although i didnt know why, people didnt like me and the only answer i had was that it was something about me.

i wish i could tell my younger self that its okay, and its not my fault. but i still wouldnt have an answer for them about what to do about it. im still struggling with that myself.

autism and adhd are disabilities in many ways and can be a struggle to deal with, but socially it doesnt HAVE to be if neurotypicals would just show empathy and be open and welcoming to others they dont quite understand! to drop the idea of “the weird kid” and realize that everyone is a person and deserving of love and even if you personally dont want to be their friend you shouldnt downright ignore them. even that much might have made me feel less alone.

because that has stuck with me all these years and i am finally able to see why i am and likely will always be alone and lonely to some degree. i wish i could find more neurodivergent friends but its not always that simple. i feel like an alien; i am like a cat in a crowd full of dogs. similar, sure, but fundamentally and visibly different.

#actuallyautistic #actuallyadhd #actuallyocd #actuallyneurodivergent #neurodivergent #depression #vent #alienation #autism #adhd #loneliness #rejection

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nemesis-is-my-middle-name · 7 months

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im thinking abt zero constructs again and i think its tough to really communicate the Vibe i want it to have but also i maybe never talked about it super in depth?

but anyway as a thesis statement it's mostly about how much faith you put into the evidence of your senses, and also the intrinsic gulf of understanding between all people. there's a fundamental youness to every person that never quite gets communicated through interactions. and then imagine the youness was erased from reality entirely, and then something else came in, a blank slate, unmolded clay, and tried to reconstruct the you out of the them; out of what everyone else thinks that person was like.

say the slate can perceive those thoughts and those preconceptions perfectly. could they be a perfect you even just from an external pov? how many people could they convince that they were the one they were replacing? because they can perfectly mimic what the other expects them to be like—but that's regardless of whether or not that perception is correct. they have no idea if that conversation partner misperceives them, is overlaying their own biases or malformed beliefs onto the personal idea of them.

so that's dusk and helic. continually-updating copies of deleted people, trying to convince society at large that they haven't changed at all.

meanwhile they're cooking in these bad templates, all these people who half-know them or don't know them at all, immediately judging them based on a scarce glance. meanwhile that snap judgement becomes a part of them because they're such well-polished prisms, they're made to be mirrors.

and then barry and emmet show up, and after months-to-years of these bad copies, they're faced with the two people who know their original basis better than anyone in all the world. and oh god, oh fuck, they had it all wrong. they've got to scramble in the milliseconds they're given to try and throw up a better front; how was dusk supposed to guess how much dawn liked touch, that it would be immediately and distressingly wrong for her to not tackle-hug her friend after so much time apart? how was helic supposed to intuit that it wasn't just a resting face, ingo never really smiled, but his subtle-shift version of a 'smile' was immediately recognizable to his loved ones anyway? they didn't know, they were perfect mirrors but they didn't ever really know—

...on the other end of this, though. the b-side and the first thesis. you thought you lost the most important person in the world and now they're standing in front of you again, and you, right now, gun to your head, say that they're not real. it's not even a matter of wanting, this isn't about pretending to themselves because they want it to be true. it's just that—it's been a while, they've gone through so much, and so much more importantly, what if you're wrong? are you willing to gamble on the chance that you've just told the real them you've changed so much that i don't even recognize you as yourself anymore?

but more generally "i think they've been replaced by a construct" is a completely bonkers thing to say about someone unprompted. if we're talking snap judgements then humans really prefer it when things go how they expect. it makes way more sense for the thing that walks like dawn and talks like dawn to actually be dawn, ditto with ingo. so then the question becomes, once they get cozy with that assumption, how much doubt does it take to make that mental jump? how high do you need to stack the differences before it tips?

on both sides it's about believing one thing, without even really having to think about it because duh, of course, and then the slow realization creeps up on you from behind, that the entire time, you've been horribly wrong.

#the nemesis speaks #zero constructs #this post feels kind of deranged sorry. i talk like this when i'm tired #but anyway hee hee i love it when a character distrusts their own senses #ENOUGH PHILOSOPHICAL METASHIT about your perception let's put it to the test. let's get gritty with it.#oh so your perception of reality is functionally indistinguishable from 'objective' reality from your pov?#what if it wasn't. what if i knocked it sideways and now you didn't think what you saw and heard and thought was actually true.#what if you still feel like you're right but simultaneously your right has become wrong.#but you still can't escape your box! you're trapped in here! what now!#does anyone else feel me. am i talking bullshit right now #not just in the sense of hallucinations i mean that's a facet of it but more generally like. gestures to the above post #and also i like it when a character has been so set on a course of action and then suddenly has a crisis of conscience #and can no longer trust their own judgement bc their righteous crusade is now apparent to them as brazen cruelty #yknow??

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