BETRAYAL @prcditione-blog - Tumblr Blog

#v; strange little girl #[ ; ugly heart ]#[ ; queue before the storm ]

DID U GUYS KNOW

that if you wait really long to push the lever during the ashley or josh decision, josh gets an extra fragment of dialogue when pleading with Chris:

“I know… I know we haven’t been the best of friends lately… and I’ve been kinda messed up and everything…but I’m getting better, man, I swear…”

and if that doesn’t break your heart a little more I don’t know what to tellya

#y ikes #[ ; queue before the storm ]

lifewhatisthat

This precious son hurts me so much

#S TOP #[ ; run to your brother ]#[ ; queue before the storm ]

bottleshark

I’m behind on inktober. 8( Elliot Alderson for inktober day #11!

#[ ; run to your brother ]#OOOOO; this is so pretty #[ ; queue before the storm ]

sizofcrows

selflessnxss-deactivated2016021

get to know me meme: [3/?] favorite movies: Pride and Prejudice “Miss Elizabeth. I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past months have been a torment. I came to Rosings with the single object of seeing you… I had to see you. I have fought against my better judgment, my family’s expectations, the inferiority of your birth by rank and circumstance. All these things I am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony.”

#[ ; valley of the dolls ]#[ ; queue before the storm ]

langdonisms-deactivated20160221

I was created to strip lungs of their breath. to destroy pretty little things and burn them to the ground. to bring the world to its knees and hear my name spoken only in fearful whispers. I was made to be a monster.

#[ ; gimme shock treatment ]#y ikes #[ ; queue before the storm ]

thingsforrp

ɪ'ʟʟ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀʏ ᴇɴᴅs ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ɢᴜʏs ᴅɪᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴅ ɢᴜʏs ᴡɪɴ

#[ ; gimme shock treatment ]#[ ; queue before the storm ]

backshelfpoet

The first time my brother brings home a razor blade, it is not for his weak and scraggly beard. I only learn this when I walk in on him in the bathtub, singing praises to his blood. He says his prayers and asks for silence, like this is Sunday mass, and after we will walk out and take off our shiny shoes. The first time my brother brings home a rope, it is not to play cat’s cradle. He ties himself a noose and lassoes his neck. Here he is thirteen, coughing up apologies, trying to keep this in. That day, blue is no longer a beautiful color. The first time my brother buys a gun, he is hungry for the beginning. He flashes a fake ID and does not let the shopkeep know that he is just sixteen, thinking about biting down on the barrel. Yes, he wants bullets in his brittle bones. The first time my brother takes his pills, it is not to get better. With doctor’s orders of only two a day, he swallows twelve one hour and fifteen the next, leaves the bottle empty on the floor. I hold back his hair when he tells me he doesn’t want to live anymore, and I do not say that 911 knows our family by name. The first time my brother brings home a boy, I know this is the one that will not leave him with scars. I walk in on them kissing in the kitchen, hands slow and soft, away from all the knives and glass. My brother does not choke on his apologies anymore, but lets his lover eat them from his mouth. I lock the door. I think of Spring.

My Brother’s Boy | d.a.s (via backshelfpoet)

#otp; raison d'être

backshelfpoet

On Having An Affair With Depression

Some days I see your reflection on knife surfaces

and I have to stop myself from swallowing the blade whole.

Every pill downed is another day I stay sane, and you kiss

the bitter aftertaste from my mouth.

You’re asking for ways to fit

in the moaning cavern of my body

and I want to say

don’t try to fill me, just stay, please,

just stay.

I’ve been kissing depression’s death-lust lips for years now

and it’s odd to find how soft making love can be with you.

For too long, I have known arms for cutting,

but never for holding.

I have a bad habit of comparing lovers, and you’ve complained

that I talk about this “depression” too much.

I get distracted by the taste of razorblades and Prozac pills,

and I spend a lot of time curled up on window sills,

wondering if impact is the same as orgasm.

You think that there is too much sad and not enough sex,

but I don’t want to make love when depression

is at the foot of our bed, watching for when my back arches

and my toes curl.

You don’t understand that you cannot fill my aching chasms.

I’m writing reminders for you, spelling out

don’t try to fix me

across your strong shoulders.

You held me after my first balancing act,

stumbling back from the rooftop into your arms,

and promised you’d make all the sadness go away.

You were always taught depression could be fucked out,

but your whispers of beautiful just remind me

that I’m feeling twisted on the inside.

You cannot carry all this empty.

-d.a.s

#otp; raison d'être

magicalbuff

Josh’s words of jealously and anger had damaged Chris, making him blame himself for everything. It echoes in his mind so much that he slowly gives in to it. Sometimes he felt it would’ve been best if that gun had actual bullets.

#[ ; cochise ]#this fucking comic makes me upset ever y tim e #[ ; queue before the storm ]

casp0re

And all the people say, “You can’t wake up, this is not a dream, You’re part of a machine, you are not a human being, With your face all made up, living on a screen, Low on self esteem, so you run on gasoline.” - Gasoline, Halsey

❣ Fanart for Josh; The child who needs a hug. ❣

#[ ; run to your brother ]#)))):#[ ; queue before the storm ]