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#not to mention my depressive episodes get REALLY bad
julesnichols · 9 months
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People with major depression saying they wish they got manic episodes so they'd feel better oh my god shut up shut up SHUT UPPPP!!!!!!!
#it's not a fucking contest of who has it worst first of all!! depression sucks no matter if it's its own disorder or a depressive episode#but mania sucks too!!! arguably worse than any depressive episode i've had!!#mania is not quirky it is not a little treat you get in reward for putting up with a depressive episode and not dying#it will wreck your entire life#yeah sure maybe you're more creative and more productive. but at the detriment of everything else#sleeping eating etc etc basic things you need for survival you name it you won't do it#and you won't even feel it till it's really REALLY bad#you'll see things. hear things. smell things that aren't there sometimes#which gets worse the longer you don't sleep or eat#you might have more 'energy' to clean but you'll also probably throw out most of your shit while doing it even if it's perfectly good#you'll be more aggressive and arrogant and think you're more than you are so you're gonna wreck most or all of your relationships#in ways that'll take years to repair. if at all#because of those delusions of grandeur you'll drop out or quit your job or burn those bridges so badly you can't salvage them#and on and on it goes#and these are my personal experiences!!!#other people have others#but mania is Not Cute Not Quirky#it's fucking awful#not to mention that mixed episodes exist#which are also hell#anyways i saw a meme that was the 'you guys are getting _' meme#and it was 'depressed person' and 'you guys are getting manic episodes'#tell me you do not understand bipolar disorder without telling me you do not understand bipolar disorder!!!#so many people replying to it going haha relatable 🤪 like okay#wish you WOULD experience mania so maybe you'd realize how not fun it is#even hypomania fucking sucks#also i blew my entire savings during the worst manic episode#somehow forgot that. but it sure was a thing!!
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saltpepperbeard · 8 months
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OBLIGATORY COMPLETE OFMD SEASON 2 TEASER THOUGHTS AND SPECULATION POST™
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Okay, to start off, I cannot BELIEVE we got this. I cannot BELIEVE we got a voiceover of Stede's note to Ed. We were all thinking it. We were all hoping for it. I CANNOT BELIEVE WE LEGITIMATELY GOT TO SEE AND HEAR HIS LOVE RIGHT OFF THE BAT. HE LOVES HIS ED SO SO MUCH.
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Followed by this shot right as Stede is narrating. It's difficult to tell, but it seems like Ed??? The one-armed jacket and the fact that it's layered with Stede's narration makes me quite certain it's him. But ALONE??? AND COMING OUT OF THE SURF??? (There's a shot later that has me PARTICULARLY raising eyebrows at this moment. I'm thinking that he fell off the boat/was lost in that one storm shown later, and Stede of course is going to dive in after him or attempt to get to him in some sort of dramatic way. Which makes me think he and Stede are going to potentially talk feelings/reconcile on the beach)
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And the fight choreography of this. Are you actually kidding me right now. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. GETTING TO SEE ED ABSOLUTELY KICKING ASS IN COMBAT??? NEVER IN A THOUSAND YEARS DID I EXPECT TO SEE A SHOT LIKE THIS BUT I'M HOLLERING SO HARD OVER IT (NOT TO MENTION, AGAIN, LOOKING AT THIS AND A LATER SHOT..........I'LL SCREAM ABOUT MY THOUGHTS WHEN SAID SHOT APPEARS HSKDLS)
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Oh, they're PINING pining. They're YEARNING yearning. They're GAY gay.
They want to be back with each other so so so bad I'm losing my mind <3
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"Fuck you, Stede Bonnet." The way he's JUST as dramatic as we were all thinking. The way he's hurting in a way WE ALL ANTICIPATED. LIKE, YOU HATE TO SEE IT, BUT MAN DSJKLDSSDKL. Also, the contrast of him saying that vs Stede's voice over is so so insane. The editors are INSANE FOR THAT ONE.
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AGAIN, GOING BONKERS OVER ED'S CHARACTERIZATION BECAUSE HE SEEMS EXACTLY HOW I ANTICIPATED. Outwardly, angry, hardened, and cold. Inwardly, heartbroken, desperate, and wanting nothing more than to be back with Stede. Because hello, HELLO, HE'S NOTCHED WHAT I ASSUME TO BE HIS NUMBER OF DAYS WITHOUT STEDE IN THE WALL??????
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HI OLU HELLO OLU MY DEAR DARLING OLU
but also screaming and crying and throwing up because this is ALSO what i was anticipating/hoping for. the crew being like "ummmmm lmao captain?? you really think you've got this under control???"
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"You think Blackbeard's going to murder you?" I THINK NOT BECAUSE WHAT IS HE EVEN SHOOTING AT JSLDKS. OFF TO THE SIDE??? A WARNING SHOT????? Also the lighting of this and his look matches the ending shot so I'm very eyes emoji at this entire thing.
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HOWEVER...
"MURDERER THRICE OVER?????????????"
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Like sorry, that sign won't stop me because I can't read. Look at him. LOOK at him. You're telling me he stole the wedding cake toppers so he could PAINT HIMSELF ON THE BRIDE??? SO HE COULD MAKE HIMSELF INTO THE BEAUTIFUL BRIDE HE WANTS TO BE????? SO THAT HE COULD PLAY PRETEND MARRIAGE BETWEEN HIMSELF AND STEDE???????
INSANE!!!
INSANE FOR THIS!!!!!!
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Again, bonkers editing. The split screen. The CONTRAST between Stede's hopefulness and Ed's depression. The WAY THEY LINED IT UP TO MAKE ED LOOK LIKE HE'S TAKING AIM AT STEDE. THE WAY THIS PROBABLY PERFECTLY ENCAPSULATES THEIR CHARACTERIZATION IN THE FIRST FEW EPISODES HSDJKLSDS LIKE BITING THE EDITORS BITING THEM BITING THEM
ALSO ED AND ALL OF HIS GUNS,,, NINE GUNS???????
It kills me because he's probably being exactly what he thinks people see him as. He's probably like "Oh, you want a monster? I'll give you a monster."
WHICH,,,, NO, HONEY. YOU'RE A SWEETHEART, SORRY ABOUT IT.
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AND THEN LOOK AT THEM. LOOK AT OUR DARLINGS!!! FANG'S FUCKING SPIKES ARE SO METAL. FRENCHIE'S WOLVERINE COSPLAY SHDJKLSHDLKS. JIM!!! JIM JIM MY BELOVED JIM, AND THEIR PAINTED BEARD. THEIR GENDER!!!!!!!
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Honey hsdksjds the drama of it all. THE DRAMA. CRASHING WEDDINGS TO DISRUPT LOVE BECAUSE YOUR OWN WAS DISRUPTED??? SIIIIIIRRRR THE THEATRICS, THE SPICE OF IT ALL
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excuse me ma'am that is a gay man shdkjshkls THAT IS A GAY MAN. WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING,,,
kiss me instead like wtf
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OKAY NOW THIS,,,
THIS.
PRESIDENTIAL ALERT: THE BABYGIRL IS FIGHHHTTTTIIIING
BUT IZZY WATCHING ON??? IZZY????????????
I have Genuine Thoughts™ about this. I have a feeling that the big arc/character development Con mentioned might pertain to him like, REALIZING what's important, and what Ed actually wants and needs. And a good chunk of that will be him realizing the consequences of his actions, and maybe potentially wanting to undo the damage. And also, in his Bitchy Izzy Ways™, he might also get very very tired of Ed's sulking/theatrics and want to rectify things for that reason too.
So I feel like he's going to sort of team up with Stede and show him the ropes for that reason?? So they ALL can work towards betterment???
WHICH IS NUTS LMAO. NEVER EVER EXPECTED THAT.
REGARDLESS, GO STEDE BABY GO!!!
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HI REVENGE HELLO REVENGE PLEASE DON'T DO ANYTHING DRASTIC LIKE EXPLODE OR ANYTHING PLEASE BABYGIRL <3
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yeah yeah the titties we've all seen them.
BUT AGAIN, AGAIN, STEDE OFF TO THE SIDE. STEDE WATCHING. STEDE LEARNING THE ROPES FROM THE MOST UNEXPECTED PERSON EVER SHDJKSDS LIKE WHAT!!!
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AND HEEEEEEERE WE GO. HERE'S THE SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER.
THE SAME BLACK SAND BEACH. FIGHTING THE BRITISH. ED AND STEDE. ED WITHOUT HIS MAKEUP ON. STEDE IN A DIFFERENT OUTFIT.
ARE THEY BOTH,,, FIGHTING TO GET TO EACH OTHER??? FIGHTING THROUGH CROWDS AND ENEMIES TO GET TO EACH OTHER'S SIDES???????
WHAT IF THEY FIGHT TO EACH OTHER AND THEN KISS HUH???
WHAT THEN.
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HIIIIIIYYYAAAA JACKIE <33333
ALSO HELLO IS THAT THE SWEDE BEHIND HER???????
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EXPLOSIONS FIRE EXPLOSIONS EXPLOSIONS FEELING VERY WEE JOHN CODED RIGHT NOW!!!!!!
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AND THIS IS YET ANOTHER SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER,,,
LIKE UHHHHHHHHHHHHH
WITH ED ON THE BEACH, AND THIS SHOT OF SOMEONE FALLING INTO THE WATER,,,,,,
I HAVE A FEELING THAT ED IS GOING TO DO SOMETHING THAT ENDS WITH HIM FALLING OFF THE BOAT. MAYBE HE TRIES TO SAVE SOMEONE???
if he fights to save stede from going overboard or something equivalent i'm going to eat all the tiles off my floor <3
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LIKE IT'S BAD BESTIES. IT'S BAD. IT'S DIRE. THE WATER IS SO FUCKING HIGH AND THEY'RE IN A STORM AND JIM IS SCREAMING AND I AM ALSO SCREAMING!!!
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But then also, LOOK AT FUCKING WEE JOHN!!! IN DRAG!!! HE'S A FUCKING MERMAID!!! JIM ISN'T A MERMAID???? WELL, THAT'S FINE--WEE JOHN IS!!! LIVING HIS BEST FUCKING LIFE!!!!! AND WHAT IF HE MADE THAT COSTUME HIMSELF SJDKSDJLS <3
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AND THE FINAL SHOT I'M CHOOSING, THE FINAL ONE OF THE SET,,, MATCHES UP WITH THAT LIGHTING EARLIER.
WHO ARE WE FIGHTING, ED BABE. WHAT'S THE TEA. WHO ARE YOU CLOBBERING.
IS IT US?
IT'S PROBABLY US.
BECAUSE THIS ENTIRE THING HAS ME SO SO SO DEAD Y'ALL
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rrxnjun · 9 months
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where do broken hearts go? [lmk]
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you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.
pairing: mark lee x fem! reader
genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.
wc: 12k (11.926)
warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic
playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz
a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)
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When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him. 
There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.
Step one – cry it out.
“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.
“Why’d you say that?”
“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”
“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.
“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.
“Yeah, but–”
“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude. 
He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.
First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all. 
Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would. 
And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.
And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.
“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.
“You know I hate cookies and cream!”
“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.
And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.
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Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.
Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.
“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.
“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”
“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.
“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”
And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.
It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.
“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.
Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe. 
“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.
“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.
“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”
“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.
Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…” 
Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.
“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.
Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.
And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier. 
And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose. 
Couldn’t he forget about that too?
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Step three – block his number.
The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.
Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one. 
Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.
So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.
“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.
Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”
“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence. 
“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.
“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.
“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.
“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”
“Mark–” 
“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”
The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.
“Mark?”
“Hm?”
“You still there?”
“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now–  as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.
“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does. 
“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?
“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.
“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”
You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.
“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.
“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”
It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.
“What was it?”
“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.
“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”
The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.
“Good night, Mark.”
“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.
He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.
And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.
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Step four – date someone new.
“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.
“So…?” 
A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.
“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”
“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.
“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”
“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.
“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”
“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.
“I said he asked about you.”
“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”
Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.
“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”
“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”
“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”
Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.
Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”
Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.
“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”
“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”
“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”
“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.
“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”
“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.
“No, that’s not it–”
“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.
“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.
“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”
“I have you,” you try.
“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”
You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.
Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help. 
Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”
“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“
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And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice. 
And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car. 
The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.
“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack. 
Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.
Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this? 
“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening. 
“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place. 
“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.
And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.
You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind. 
Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain. 
It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different. 
Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?
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After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.
Step five – avoid him at all costs.
Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?
Wrong.
Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?
And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike. 
When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile. 
“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.
You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.
“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.
Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”
Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.
“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.
“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”
Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.
Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.
It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest. 
You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about. 
You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.
You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning. 
“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”
Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”
“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”
The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.
At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now. 
“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”
“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes. 
“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”
The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.
“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.
“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”
Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”
“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.
“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body. 
Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”
“Here, of all places?”
“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”
Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface. 
“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”
“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft. 
“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?” 
He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”
“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.
“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.
And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you. 
“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.
“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”
“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.
A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”
His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.
And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more. 
“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.
Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough. 
“I love you,” he says.
And isn’t that all that’s needed? 
A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?
“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”
“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”
“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him. 
“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.
Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.
“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”
And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time. 
Where do broken hearts go?
Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.
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“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair. 
“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”
“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him. 
“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”
You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again. 
You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.
“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step. 
“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.
Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.
“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else. 
That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge. 
And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.
He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression. 
“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.
“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.
“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.
Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.
“Mark?” 
“Hm?” 
“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”
“Even us?” 
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.
“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.
“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”
Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence.  “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”
Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.
You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.
Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.
You guess your heart never really left the hill.
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x0x0josephinex0x0 · 4 months
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comfort | kmg
i am feeling icky (physically and mentally and basically in all the ways, send help lol) and as always mingyu is my comfort human so i guess i was just feeling it. reader is mentioned to be an introvert. also reader is in a bad place mentally, lowkey is implied to be a depressive episode (self-insert? hi). kinda sorta from mingyu's pov. pet names used (honey, baby, my love). kinda sorta based on this song (How to Love You Today by Son of Cloud).
mingyu understands the difference between being introverted and being quiet -- after all, he's friends with hoshi, an introvert, who can blow his eardrums at a moment's notice. he's also dating you, and while you're no hoshi, you're definitely not a wonwoo, either.
more than understanding the difference between quiet and introverted, though, he knows you. so he knows that look you have in your eyes -- the hollow, dull look that steals over your features, sometimes for weeks at a time, while you struggle to feel anything at all. he sees it in you now as you stare out the window at the gloomy clouds gathering over the hills.
it's getting bad again. he knows it. you're usually so still when you sleep, and so splendidly expressive while you're awake, but recently that has switched -- your dreams are restless and your sleep-talking more vocal, and you spend more time sitting and staring than you do normally, your face blank and empty, your hands cold whenever he reaches for them. these are the kinds of days that sap you of your saturation, leaving you feeling listless and drained -- times when mingyu has to remind you in gentle tones to eat, to come to bed, to join him in the shower. your mind is not always kind to you, so mingyu has made it his personal mission to be so.
the worst part is, you've stopped singing. when you'd been "just friends", sometimes your constant humming and vocalizing would peeve mingyu when he was trying to concentrate, but after living with you for almost two years, he barely notices it anymore. in fact, he only really notices when you stop, and it's one of his first indicators that something is off about you.
he's been waiting for you to tell him what's going on. usually he can tell you're in a bad state before you can, but mingyu also knows that if he tells you he's noticed, you'll start trying to hide it from him. because you don't want to be a burden. (the thought of you ever being too much for him is laughable to mingyu. he loves you like it's breathing -- just an instinct, something he never even needs to think about, because it's just that easy. every person is heavy sometimes, so why was it so unreasonable for you, his most beloved and treasured person, to believe that he'd willingly carry you, no matter how heavy you got?)
so he waits, staying aware of you always, noting how the dark circles under your hollow eyes get more pronounced. and he worries, of course he does. but he also knows that one day, soon, you'll --
"mingyu?"
he's in the kitchen shredding lettuce for a sandwich for you when he hears it: that tiny voice you use when you're sort of kind of hoping he doesn't turn around to look at you. because you're on the verge of tears, or you look like hell, or a million other reasons that he couldn't care less about. so he turns around. "hey baby. what's up?"
"i...i don't feel good."
that's really all he needs. that's really all it takes, if he's being honest with himself. he goes to you where you hover in the doorway, afraid to take up space, and pulls you into his arms. "i know, honey. i've got you."
there's nothing like the feeling of having your tense muscles relax into him, the way your body releases all that angst as he runs a warm hand up and down your back. you lean your head against his shoulder and repeat, "you got me?" softly, almost embarrassed.
but even as mingyu's heart aches for you -- even as the tears prick the back of his eyes as he thinks of how you must've been suffering -- he feels so grateful. grateful that you trust him. grateful that you feel safe enough to do what he knows is so scary for you. grateful that you choose to do it despite everyone in the past who has made you feel inadequate for needing a hand.
he presses one, two, three kisses to your temple. "i've got you, my love. i've always got you."
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libra-kirishima · 11 months
Text
Mystic Messenger Characters + Their Toxic Traits ✨
Feat. Zen, Yoosung, Jaehee, Jumin, Seven, and V
Short headcanons inspired by this post I've made about My Hero Academia characters and their toxic traits x
! fem reader, brief mentions of sex !
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Zen
Insanely jealous. He's barely able to restrain himself from barking like a dog when he sees you talking to another man
- and he will come up to you mid-conversation and embarrass you in front of this man because Zen wants him to know who you belong to.
Has some mildly sexist views on women
- Speaks for you even if you're right next to him. Will order for you at restaurants without being asked. If someone asks you a question and Zen thinks he knows the answer he'll answer it for you as if you aren't capable of answering for yourself.
- Tends to believe that you're fragile and vulnerable and that he needs to protect you because you're a woman
- Will help you with chores but he believes it's your job to cook
- Doesn't ever let you take control during sex. He thinks that, as the man, he is supposed to be the one on top and in control. He's a pleasure dom but sex is always done his way because he never lets you take the lead.
Canonically homophobic
Lacks self awareness
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Yoosung
King of putting things off. Ignores problems in the relationship for as long as he possibly can until one day it all comes to the surface and he bursts into tears
Avoids conflict to the point of concern. He'd rather lie to himself that everything is fine between the two of you than address an issue in your relationship because he doesn't want to start a fight.
Struggles to make time for you. A lot of your dates are hanging out together while he studies in his room or at the library.
Shamelessly codependent
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Jaehee
Also terrible at making time for you
Always working. If she's not working under Jumin then she's always working on improving the coffee shop. She doesn't know how to function when she's not working 24/7 and under constant stress
She takes things so personally. She'll never tell you she took something you said personally but you can tell.
Lowkey a grudge holder. If you two get into an argument she'll bring up something you said to hurt her feelings two years ago.
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Jumin
Wants to take care of you but "taking care of you" can mean doing things that are very controlling sometimes
- extremely resistant at first to the idea of you having a job or going to college since he can provide for both of you
- hates taking "no" for an answer if he thinks he knows better than you. If you're sick with a cold he'll go against your wishes and call a doctor no matter how many times you insist that you're fine.
- Never learned how to let someone else be in charge of something so he also never lets you take control during sex.
Resistant to change
Makes important decisions without you based on what he thinks you would want
Can come across as very apathetic at times. He thinks he's offering an objective point of view that will help soothe your emotions but instead it can feel like he doesn't care about them because you're being unreasonable.
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707
Has gotten into the habit of lying about the dumbest shit, so it can be difficult to tell whether he's being serious or messing with you
Doesn't help with household chores because he doesn't find them mentally stimulating
Gets really bad depressive episodes. He doesn't want Saeran to see him like that so he bottles everything up until he can't anymore and will take all his emotions out on you sometimes.
Has never had to communicate how he feels before meeting you, so he never learned how. A lot of the time you're relying on your intuition because he doesn't talk to you about it. Part of him still believes nobody cares about how he's feeling.
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V
Incredibly passive. Getting him to voice what he wants is like pulling teeth.
Codependent and in denial about it. Thinks he's just really in love with his wife.
Has a tendency to completely ignore how he's feeling because part of him is desperate to please you.
Tends to think in absolutes. Has a very black and white view on most things
Struggles to believe that he deserves you and that makes him crave validation, but he never wants to voice to you that he needs validation.
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7ndipity · 5 months
Text
Their S/o Has Depression
Ot7 x Reader
Summary: How they would respond to their S/o having depression(or having had depression in the past)
Warnings: mentions of depressive episodes, not proofread
A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon who requested this! I’ve actually thought about writing something about this several times, as it’s something I’ve dealt with for many years, but wasn’t quite sure how to go about it.
Reminder to anyone who needs to hear it that you are loved, you will be okay eventually, but it’s okay to not be okay right now. If you need anyone to talk/vent to, I’m here for you💜
Masterlist
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
Jin: He would probably be really quiet when you first tell him, just trying to understand and take everything in. Tries to pay closer attention to your moods, and handles you a little softer on the days when you need it. He does his absolute most to make you smile everyday, even if it’s just for a second. He knows it doesn’t make the darkness go away, but sometimes those little moments of light are enough to get you through.
Yoongi: He’s also had his share of struggles with this in the past, so I feel like he might have picked up on some cues, but waited for you to bring it up when you were ready. He tries to subtly look out for you without being overbearing, checking in throughout the day and helping out where he can. Understands that some days you just need to be quiet and ride out the storm, so he’ll just lay with you, keeping a hand out for you to grab if you need it.
Hobi: It would hurt his heart so much to know you’ve gone through/are going through that kind of pain, but he would be so grateful that you trusted him enough to share your struggles with him. If it’s ongoing, he would be super attentive to your moods, trying to help out and support you in little ways wherever he can, whether that’s doing the dishes, making sure you’re eating properly, or just showing you funny videos he found online to make you laugh.
Namjoon: He’s been rather open about his own struggles with depression, so I think he’d be very understanding and sympathetic when you tell him. Very proactive about talking through whatever it is you’re feeling, even if you think it’s stupid or unimportant. Tries to get you to go out or take walks with him on better days, just to make sure you get some fresh air and sunlight regularly, and help make sure you're looking after your physical health as well as your mental.
Jimin: It would break his heart to realize that you struggled/are struggling with this, but his sole focus would become how to help/comfort you. He’s really empathetic, so he would pick up on every little shift in your moods. He understands that sometimes you just need to be reminded that you’re not alone, so he’ll just wrap himself around you on days when you can’t do much, holding you together till you can put the pieces back yourself.
Taehyung: As sad as he is to find out about your struggles, I feel like he’s really good at normalizing things like this without being dismissive, checking in with a number system or smth so you don’t have to talk if you don’t wanna(10’s good, 1’s bad) Has a way of saying the most comforting things in the simplest way(like when he reminded that one fan that she was already a good daughter just by existing). Will lay in bed with you on low days, talking about whatever comes to mind just to help distract you.
Jungkook: As soon as you tell him, he goes into protector mode. He can struggle sometimes to find the right words, so he tends to express his care more through actions. If you can’t bring yourself to clean your apartment, he’ll do it for you(while commentating to you as if it’s a talk show). If you need to just sleep, he’ll curl up with you and keep you safe. The type you can call at 2am cause you don’t wanna be alone, and he’s got his shoes on and out the door before you’ve finished talking.
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz
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eimids · 6 months
Text
Your worst enemy
Arsenal x reader
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Reder is suffering with depression and doesn’t want her teammates to know.
Warnings: depression, mention of suicide (nothing happens tho), HEAVY on the angst, hurt/comfort?
words: around 3k
Your thoughts had been spiraling for a while, first you didn’t even realize it. Starting with only tiredness and some not so good days. You just brushed then off.
Your depression wasn’t back, it couldn’t be it.
Last time it got so bad that you were almost hospitalized. So this time it couldn’t get to that point. You changed your whole life after your last depressive episode. You changed from Manchester United to Arsenal. You cut contact with toxic people in your life, especially your ex.
But without you even realizing, it became more severe. Not having any energy, going to sleep at 9pm and sleeping for almost 12 hours every day. You were also getting irritated really easily. If something didn’t go your way, you were ready to fight (and cry). Practice was the only moment you had to be energetic. You couldn’t let things affect football. You didn’t want to be with your teammates, the bonding nights only seemed like a lot of work to keep a happy surface.
During best days, everything felt almost normal. But just almost. Something felt always off. Sounds were too loud, lights were too brightbut you were happy. You were supposed to be happy. Why couldn’t you just be happy. Everything was good, what did you have in your life for you to be depressed? Absolutely nothing.
You tried your best to not let anyone notice but you failed miserably. Alessia was the first one to notice and tried subtly to talk to you about it. You were closest to her at Arsenal. You transferred with her from Manu so you knew each other from there. Although you were only 19 you and Less where getting along really well. After practice she offered to grab coffee with you, then have a nice girlsnight with her.
“Oh it’ll be fun. We can just go to my apartment to watch some movies and order your favorite food” The older woman tried to convince you.
You were hesitant at her suggestion. After the long day you were already overwhelmed and tired. You just wanted to sleep away the never ending tiredness. You hadn’t had even that long day. Only practice and recovery. Then some quick media stuff. But even that made you exhausted. Wanting to just rot away in your bed you made some excuse for Less.
“I’m sorry i’m just really tired today and I’m gonna have to call to my parents about them coming to visit” You said as casually as you could.
Lessi almost believed it, but she knew something deeper was going on. She’d seen you get more and more tired during the last months and she didn’t really know what to do about it.
“You know you can always talk to me if you have something on your mind?” Less blurted out.
You were pondering your options. You could say that things were ok and not to worry about you. But you could also confess the hard truth. Your depression was back. But Less would have to tell that to Leah and Kim, who were obligated to tell Jonas and the team management.
“I know Less, but I’m doing okay” You said and smiled. Then you just grabbed your kitbag and left the training grounds.
It was already 8pm and it was getting dark. You still didn’t have your drivers license so you couldn’t drive by yourself. You could ask a lift from one of your teammates but most of them had left or were still doing media. Uber felt useless waste of money so you decided to walk home. It was only four kilometers so it wasn’t anything too bad. You started your walk on the quiet roads of England. There was some pubs and bars you walked past to. Hearing the usual catcalls from some gross old men. You tried to ignore them you put your music louder in your headphones and continued walking.
Your phone was on ‘do not disturb’ mode as you continued your walk. You didn’t really notice anything around you. Not even truly caring about anything. You just wanted the numbness and tiredness to go away. Somehow you managed to get to your apartment. You took your shoes off and walked straight to your bed. Not caring that you were still wearing your day clothes. Your apartment was a mess so you didn’t even bother to look for any other clothes.
The next day you woke up and it was already 10am. Another 12 hours had passed with your sleeping. You knew you were going to be late but still didn’t bother to get up. You decided to check your phone only to find 3 missed calls from Less and texts.
Lessi🤍
8.47pm
Viv said you didn’t ride with her back home? Don’t say you walked! I could’ve driven you home..
9.12pm
Please answer to me that you are okay y/n. I just want to know you got home safely.
10.39pm
I really hope you are already asleep at your house. I’m worried please call me when you can.
You were alarmed when you heard something from your kitchen. You quickly got up and went to look for the sound. Your kitchen was cleaned, the living room was cleaned, what was happened.
Alessia. She stood there in your kitchen making you breakfast. You were confused about everything even though you had given Less your spare keys.
“Morning y/n, we need to have a talk” Less just said. Clearly not happy.
“Well yeah, you can’t just show up to my apartment” You answered.
“Yea I can when I’m worried sick about you. I asked almost everyone on the team if they had taken you home but no. Did you walk home? You can’t be that reckless, something could’ve happened. So when you didn’t answer I decided to come over to see what’s going on. I’m glad I found you safely home, sleeping” Less started her lecture.
“I didn’t walk” You lied. “I ordered an uber and got home safely” You continued with the lies. You could see the anger and worry on Alessia’s face turn to guilt. “I was tired and didn’t want to bother anyone so I just ordered the uber. You don’t have to worry about me Less, I’m okay” You said with a smile. You were trying to be convincing although all that came from your mouth was lies.
“Oh i’m so sorry y/n. I don’t know what got to me but you’ve been acting weird lately and I just got so worried when you didn’t answer. Maybe I should get going, I’m sorry again” Alessia said and started to grab her things.
You stopped her by hugging her. You weren’t mad at her, although you didn’t want her to be worried about you, I felt nice to know that she cared about you. “You can stay Less, have breakfast with me” You said to her softly.
So she did. You ate your breakfast in a comfortable silence and then talked about your next match that you were going to have in couple days. You were supposed to leave to Manchester later that day. After you ate, Less grabbed her stuff again and left. You were happy with yourself that you convinced her that everything was okay.
You and Alessia both missed the team meeting of that morning but were on time to get to your bus to leave to Manchester. You got a little lecture from Jonas but didn’t really care. Wasn’t the first time.
On the bus most of your teammates were on the back of the bus listening to music and chatting. You however were sitting in the front. Headphones in listening to Taylor Swift and trying to sleep. It wasn’t hard with how exhausted you were. Sleep came nowadays always easily.
At some point you were woken by Kim sitting next to you. You tried to just act like you were sleeping but the skipper knew better.
“I know you’re awake y/n. Why don’t you come to the back of the bus with the others and have some fun, you have missed a lot of team bonding nights lately and the girls miss your company” Kim stated to you. You could hear Katie singing in the back of the bus and laughed a little.
“Okay I can come for a while. But I really need my beauty sleep” You tried to joke. Kim laughed a little before walking back to her seat. You followed her and were welcomed with teasing from your teammates.
“Well good to see you y/l/n, feels like I haven’t seen you in ages” Katie teased as she saw you walking to the back of the bus. “Come sit next to me” She continued.
You really didn’t want to hear the teasing from Katie but decided to still take the seat next to her. In front of you were Beth and Viv. In the next booth of four were Less, Leah and Kyra. Music was blasting and you saw as Katie was filming a tiktok about the her day. She filmed you in it with the something along ‘She’s alive’. You smiled for the camera but actually you wanted to cry. You were tired af the teasing. You were tired of everyone fussing about you. Why couldn’t you just enjoy some peace and quiet.
You zoned out for a while and next thing you realize was that Leah was gently waking you up.
“Wake up sleepy” Leah said quietly and smiled to you.
“Oh sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep” You said while looking around. Everyone else had left the bus, you were at your hotel.
Leah just hummed and helped you get your stuff and then walked with you to the entrance. Your teammates were sorting out rooms. You were hoping to get a room for yourself all alone. When you’re name was called at last you found out that you were paring with Leah. Kim and Leah changed looks that you didn’t notice.
Some of your teammates, mainly Viv, Beth and Less had went and talked to your skippers about your weird behavior. They had all noticed the signs of depression. Especially Less who had known you when you had your latest episode. They had made a small plan to get you to talk. Leah would be rooming with you, Kim would encourage you to be more with the other girls. Viv and Beth where just like parents who took notice about your behavior and made sure that you took care of yourself. They didn’t want to talk to you yet about it. They want you to come talk to them, or to anyone at that matter.
The rest of the day was a blur. You had a practice on the pitch, some recovery in cold pool, dinner. At practice you were almost benched because you were playing recklessly. Taking stupid risks and tackling people. A lot of your tackles were not even towards others, more so you could get yourself hurt. They were stupid and you knew it but just didn’t care.
After dinner your head was a mess. You felt overwhelmed and you couldn’t really take a notice of your surroundings. Kyra was walking next to you to the elevator. For the next couple of hours you were supposed to spend time with your teammates. You knew you had to show your face there for people not to get suspicious but you were in a bad mental state and just wanted to be alone. You walked hand in hand to the meeting room where pretty much everyone was in already. You smiled and talked for a while before trying to make an excuse to leave.
“Don’t leave yet, you just came here” Viv said to you. Trying to find someone else in the room who was in on the plan. She saw Leah and waved her over.
“I’m just not really in a mood to be here, I was thinking about having a shower and just going to sleep” You answered. Not having the energy to make up excuses.
“Y/n it’s not even 6pm, can’t you just stay here with us for a little while longer?” Leah asked hopefully.
Everything was just too much for you. The music in the background, Leah and Viv asking too many questions. Your breathing started to pick up pace. You knew that if you didn’t get away now, you would most likely end up having a panic attack. So you left. Without a word to Leah or Viv. You just turned around and walked away. You ran to your room and quickly closed the door. You fell to the ground and couldn’t help the tears in you eyes starting to spill.
You hated it, hated it all. You hated your mind for not being normal. You hated yourself for not accepting help from the other who clearly were just worried about you. You hated your teammates for trying to help. You hated the feeling in your head that just didn’t go away. You just hated it all.
Leah and your other teammates decided to give you some time for a while. Letting you calm down. But they all knew that they needed to do something. Leah and Kim decided to talk to the team management the first thing the following day. They knew you needed help and couldn’t watch on the side as you were slowly ruining yourself. After sometime Leah decided to come back to your shared room. She expected to find you sleeping but was concerned when you weren’t in the room. She checked the bathroom but no. You weren’t there. She got worried quickly. Her mind went first to the worst scenarios. Did something happen to you, did yo do something to yourself, was it too late for her to come look for you, she was blaming herself instantly.
“She isn’t hear” Leah said in a panicked voice as soon as Kim answered her call.
“What do you mean Leah?” Kim asked worriedly.
“She isn’t in our room, what if something has happened” Leah worried.
“Okay let’s not panic yet. Come back to the team room and we’ll make a plan” Kim said to Leah. Being the captain she knew she had to stay calm. They talked as Leah walked back to the team room. Kim had asked most of the girls to go back to their rooms and have a chill night. Not wanting to consern them.
Viv, Beth, Katie, Alessia, Leah and Kim were the ones to stay. They knew you the best and right now all they wanted was to find you.
“Has anyone called her?” Beth asked.
“Well yeah but she didn’t answer, it went straight to voicemail” Leah answered.
“She’s an adult and can leave if she wants, right now there isn’t much we can do unfortunately. Leah I suggest you go back to your room and see if y/n comes back. Inform us immediately if she comes, Viv and Beth can you go to the restaurant and bar to check if y/n’s there?” Kim started to make a plan.
Kim, Less and Katie stayed in the teamroom. Alessia was crying. She knew how bad it could get for you. Last time, about two years ago, she and Ella Toone had found you on the roof of the hotel, ready to jump. After that you started to get better. You were put on antidepressants and went to therapy for a year. She was happy that you were getting better. She didn’t want to believe the signs of depression when she first noticed them again. She didn’t want you to go through that again.
The team didn’t have to look for a long time before you showed up back in your room where Leah was pacing around. She stopped immediately when she heard the door open. Next she saw you with tears in your eyes standing there. Looking so fragile.
“I think I need help Leah, please help me” You said with the tiniest voice, lips quivering but Leah heard you. She came running to you before you collapsed on her embrace. You cried as she carried you to the bed and then continued to let you cry against her.
She quickly found her phone in her pocket and sent a quick text to Kim that you were back. Then she ignored the respond she got and just continued to hug you.
“I’m here for you and I’m going to get you the help you need” Leah whispered in your ear.
This was supposed to be longer but I don’t really know how to continue this so I might do a part 2 where reader sorts with the aftermath about everything. Would you be interested in part 2?
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mulletmitsuya · 2 months
Text
Tokyo Revengers Groupchat (Final Timeline)
Warnings: suggestive (i might have to change this warning to "mentions of sexual content" bcs it's too tame of a warning for the stuff that's actually in here), swearing, the word "pedophile" is mentioned, mentions of substance abuse
Desc: Everyone finds out Takemitchy and Mikey are time leapers, which leads to some...interesting questions
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Mitsuya: so let me get this straight
Mitsuya: you're a time traveler, and you've lived dozens of timelines to prevent Hina from dying but she kept dying anyway but then when you got to one where she didn't die, Mikey was some deranged criminal lord and was miserable and depressed and tried to kill himself so you had to go back in time again to make sure everything was fixed but ended up dying while fighting Mikey but then somehow you both went back in time and rewrote all of our entire lives??
Takemitchy: yeah...
Baji: cap
Mikey: it's not
Mitsuya: so Mikey's a time traveler too?
Mikey: yeah it's crazy i know
Draken: do you guys have any way to prove this?
Chifuyu: this explains why i keep getting random visions of me in alternate universes. holy shit
Haruchiyo: weird ass prank
Takemitchy: i think it happened since you're close to me and we basically did everything together. i'm not sure
Inupi: we're just gonna believe this?
Koko: wait, i kind of do
Kisaki: this...defies all logic of anything ever.
Mikey: shut up Kisaki
Mikey: i'm sorry it's just that in ever other timeline you've ruined my life so it's difficult to be nice to you sometimes
Kisaki: so you don't like me because of something i did in another universe?
Takemitchy: *timeline
Mikey: yeah. my bad
Baji: i'm gonna entertain this cause i'm bored but what was i like in other timelines
Mikey: dead
Baji: ...all of em?
Mikey: yeah, it kinda drove me to insanity
Baji: damn
Baji: why?
Mikey: you killed yourself to save Kazutora
Baji: what was the context
Mikey: long story
Baji: there wasn't any other way?
Mikey: you're kinda pissing me off cause that's what i was wondering, actually
Baji: damn
Kazutora: thanks man. appreciate it🙏
Kazutora: i'll slobber on your meat later, as a proper thank you
Baji: i'd appreciate that. thanks homie🙌
Koko: what about me?
Baji: you wanna slobber on my meat? i mean i won't stop you. as long as i can call you kitten.
Koko: ...i was talking about me in alternate universe's😐
Takemitchy: i don't think we should go there guys. there's too many timelines, and not everything was exactly the same. and also in general it was a really traumatizing experience for me and i kind of want to end my life every time i think about it
Hanma: womp womp. what about me???
Mikey: murderer
Hanma: YESSSSS 😭😭😭😭😭
Hanma: THANK GOD, I KNEW IF I COULDN'T DO IT HERE, MULTIVERSE ME WOULD HAVE LIVED THE DREAM
Hanma: are me and Tetta-san together in every universe
Mikey: surprisingly, yes
Hanma: and he denies we're soulmates😔
Kisaki: i will not hesitate to get another restraining order
Hanma: a piece of paper won't stand in my way. let's get married
Kisaki: i will call the police
Draken: guys are we really entertaining this?
Mikey: you went to jail in one of the timelines and you were bald LMAO
Draken: sure
Baji: why'd he go to jail?
Mikey: these guys killed Emma and Ken-chin took revenge
Baji: respectable
Mikey: he was given a death sentence
Baji: that's tough fr
Ran: i'm kinda curious
Ran: humour me, what was i like?? was i famous?
Mikey: you were a criminal. killed people
Ran: sounds about right if i'm being honest
Ran: and Haruchiyo and Rindou?
Haruchiyo: leave me out of Takemitchy's psychotic episodes
Haruchiyo: i think you have a hallucination/delusion disorder or something
Mikey: but don't you believe me?
Haruchiyo: ...
Haruchiyo: Mikey, you're also pretty mentally ill
Mikey: says you???
Haruchiyo: i just have substance abuse problems and i'm getting clean so...
Mikey: GUYS I'M TELLING THE TRUTH I SWEAR
Mikey: I'VE BEEN GOING CRAZY KEEPING THIS A SECRET
Draken: when was the last time you slept?
Mikey: ☹️
Baji: guys just play pretend.
Rindou: what about me?
Mikey: same as your brother just uh, less gay and slutty?
Rindou: story of my life
Inupi: you didn't do Koko
Mikey: criminal
Koko: the whole time?
Mikey: yeah
Mikey: Inupi got normal at some point because he and Ken-chin got close and they fixed bikes together and had sex
Inupi: Draken????
Draken: you're really starting to piss me off.
Mikey: Akane died in the fire though like she was BURNT
Takemitchy: uh Mikey-kun...
Mikey: she was a crisp i'm telling you
Mikey: Inupi you had an ugly red scar on your face and no one wanted you
Mikey: Izana i know you're reading this, you were fucking insane dude like you killed Emma for some fucking reason then Kisaki shot you 3 times in the chest and you died while having a really bad mental breakdown. it was a major L on your part
Chifuyu: Mikey why are you leaving out the fact that the common denominator in every single timeline was that you killed every single one of your friends in the most brutal ways possible🤨?
Mikey: no comment
Smiley: how'd he kill me?
Chifuyu: uhhh
Chifuyu: Takemitchy help me out here
Takemitchy: i don't want to talk about it😐
Chifuyu: I REMEMBER
Chifuyu: backshot
Smiley: ...
Smiley: he killed me by giving me backshots..?
Smiley: i would NEVER take it from behind
Smiley: especially from MIKEY
Smiley: small dick having ass
Smiley: my bootyhole is not to be messed with
Smiley: i'm so pissed off right now holy shit
Smiley: how did i even die???? dick so good it killed me?
Smiley: i'm so angry
Angry: and i'm Smiley😂
Baji: 3/10 joke 👎, poor delivery, fell flat
Smiley: i hope you kill yourself, Mikey
Mikey: trust me, i've tried
Chifuyu: ???
Chifuyu: he shot you in the back with a gun?
Chifuyu: what's wrong with you
Smiley: oh my bad i though you meant like, he was taking me doggy style
Smiley: i'm no bottom
Ran: what is happening
Chifuyu: i'm moving on😐
Chifuyu: Hakkai was tied to a chair and burnt to death
Hakkai: wha-
Hakkai: WHAT DID I DO??
Hakkai: jesus 😟
Chifuyu: why am i getting all these memories, i'm freaking out
Hakkai: Mikey please tell me what i did to deserve that ☹️
Mikey: idk Hakkai i was going through a lot
Draken: have you been diagnosed with anything?
Mikey: i don't need a diagnosis bcs i'm fine now, you're all alive and i don't have any murderous intent!!! yippee🤗
Mikey: isn't this great Takemitchy??
Takemitchy: well, yeah no ones dead so that's great
Izana: this is obviously completely fabricated
Izana: are you guys that bored?
Senju: man for all that time traveling you sure are a shit boyfriend😭
Takemitchy: how????
Takemitchy: did Hina say that☹️??
Senju: it's an observation
Senju: you've had way too many coincidental close calls with other woman💀
Draken: yeah you pissed me off when you thought i was gifting you a prostitute. you had a whole ass girlfriend. shame on you
Senju: and you also almost slept with Emma and you "don't remember"
Smiley: Mitchy's low-key funny as hell because what do you mean you stripped yourself and another girl down to your underwear by accident
Baji: wouldn't Takemitchy be a pedophile then?? Emma was 13 dawg🤨
Mikey: he was 14 though😭
Baji: you're gonna ride Takemitchy's dick to defend him from trying to sleep with your 13 year old sister??? crazy
Baji: wasn't be mentally 26🤨?
Baji: bro i'm gonna beat your ass actually
Mikey: hmm
Mikey: you know what Mitchy, why did you do that 🤨?
Smiley: LMFAOO
Mitsuya: why did i come back to Takemitchy facing pedophile allegations, like what's going on right now
Kazutora: is it not enough that he changed the space and time continuum just to be with his girl?
Kazutora: cheating this cheating that, my boy deserves all the pussy he wants
Kazutora: he's been beaten, shot, stabbed AND killed
Kazutora: i personally believe he's the goat
Baji: ?
Chifuyu: goat is an acronym for "greatest of all time", Baji-san
Baji: what's an acronym
Chifuyu: i'll dm
Kazutora: bro you're so fucking stupid😭
Draken: i don't care if he was skinned alive by an orangutan, there's no excuse to cheat on someone
Rindou: i think being skinned alive by an orangutang warrants having more than one girl. idk that's just me tho
Ran: not the point that's being made rn
Rindou: what exactly is the point that's being made
Rindou: is this real. are we being serious.
Rindou: i don't think i get the joke
Haruchiyo: i think we should all stop talking now
Mikey: Mitchy we need to talk a bit
Takemitchy: i told you this was a bad idea
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zmbiesuga · 7 months
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I literally jumped with joy when you fallowed me back omg ily sm. So I was at the doctors and my doctor told me how he proposed to his wife and it was so sweet. He said he was stressed from finals and he had like a dream that his wife died and he dreamed of everything he couldn’t do with her. So when he woke up it was like 2 in the morning and he ran to his room to get the ring he had. He had it for two whole like years but ran to her dorm and begged her to say yes because he couldn’t wait. Could you write a fic of kuroo doing that with his boyfriend?
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JUMP THEN FALL — k. tetsuro x m!reader
sypnosis: kuroo has always known that he wanted to marry you, and he's always said that he'll do it when he knows it's right. what's more perfect than asking after he had a dream about you dying?
warnings: mentions of death (nothing too graphic but still), kuroo being a fucking loser dork but i adore him so it's fine <3, fluff, happy ending!, angst if you squint really really hard, kuroo and reader are in their last year of college in this one, but i'm not in college yet so idfk how it works but i'll pretend i do!! use of the petnames 'babe' and 'baby'
notes: okay i'm so so sorry this took so long, i had a really bad depressive episode, i hope you like it, this request is really cute and i had a lot of fun writing it :D and two, that is so nice of you to say omg :( of course i followed you back, you always send me requests, you interact with my stuff a lot and you're just really nice so thank you for that <3
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Kuroo has always wanted to marry you, it's the one thing he's been sure of in his entire life.
When you bring up marriage to him, however, he just tells you to "be patient" and that he'll "do it when he knows it's right" which constantly keeps you on your toes in case your dork of a boyfriend decides that the "right time" is during one of your lectures or at any inappropriate time really.
It kept Kuroo on his toes too, because what you don't know is that in the far-right corner of his sock drawer holds a small velvet box with a beautiful band inside of it. Every day he can feel his hand graze over the box, thinking to himself, maybe now is the right time.
But then he shakes his head, and decides it isn't.
And besides, as much as Kuroo loves you, he has finals to worry about. And they're really kicking his ass.
Although most people would peg Kuroo as the focused studious type (which he tried so desperately to be), the truth was that he tried so hard to procrastinate as much as possible. However, was it really procrastination if he needs the sleep?
When it was to avoid studying for finals, yes it was.
"Kuroo, sleeping to avoid studying for finals is not something you should do," your voice rippled out through the speaker of his phone, "especially if it's every single time you have them."
"Babe, you are the one who is constantly nagging me to sleep more," he rebutted, that stupid cocky tone he always had lingering in the back of his throat ever present, "I'm finally listening to you, I think you should take that as a win."
"Kuroo," your voice cracked again through that shoddy android speaker again, a certain firmness to it this time, "please promise me that you'll study, you're gonna hate yourself if you don't."
"Baby, I promise you I will, you know my word to you is good," he replied, you could hear that fucking cocky grin etching itself onto his face, "right after my little nap. I love you; I'll talk to you soon."
After you too bid your goodbyes, Kuroo made himself as comfortable on that dorm room mattress as he could, until his eyes got heavy, and he drifted off to sleep.
Kuroo could have sworn it was real.
The chase, your blood curdling scream, the way his stomach dropped to the soles of his feet when he realized he was too late.
It wasn't until he shot up in bed with that same nauseous feeling sitting in his chest as his breath came out panicked and labored had he realized it was nothing but a fucked-up dream.
Kuroo had never been so happy to wake up.
Slowly, but surely, he had calmed himself down. His breath returning to normal as the nauseous feeling in his chest disappeared, what didn't disappear, however, was that he didn't want to live life without you. He didn't want to graduate without you beside him, he didn't want to start a company without you there cheering him on along the way, and he sure as hell didn't want to imagine having a family with anyone else that wasn't you. Life was too short for hesitation, it was too short for his hesitation.
He quickly rushed out of bed, pulling an old hoodie over his torso, slipping on his shoes, and rifling through his drawer to grab that velvet box that had been sitting there for two years, begging to be let free.
Luckily for him, your dorm wasn't far from his. He hadn't even bothered to check the time on his phone, where the light flashed a large: 2:03 A.M. at him, he didn't care if his frantic speed walking down the hallway woke up everyone on that floor, he was only worried about getting to you.
When he got to your dorm, he rapped his fist against the door so hard he could've sworn that his knuckles would crack open. The door opened to a very annoyed you, but he didn't care if he interrupted your sleep, or your studying, he was just so elated to see you in front of him.
"Kuroo, what the hell?" you seethed, "It's two in the morning, what on earth —"
You were quickly cut off by Kuroo dropping to one knee in the doorway of your dorm room, pulling out that velvet box in all its glory, revealing that beautiful band you had mentioned liking to him once, you couldn't control the way your mouth slightly dropped in confusion, a wave of emotions hitting you like a tsunami.
"(Y/n), please, just listen to me," he blurted out in an almost pleading tone, "I've always wanted to wait until the right moment to ask you this, but recently, I've realized that the right moment was in front of me the entire time."
You tried to get a word in, but Kuroo's word vomit was faster.
"(Y/n), I've realized there is so much I want to do with you, so much that I can't do without you," he said, you swore you could see the tears well in the corner of his eyes, "everything from this point forward is useless if I can't do it with you by my side, so I'm begging you, even though it's two a.m. and we're both in our pajamas with messy hair and dark circles under our eyes, will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?"
It was your turn to be stunned, you stared down at your boyf — fiancée, in front of you with stained sweatpants and an old Nekoma sweatshirt barely big enough to cover his torso asking you to marry him at two in the morning.
You stayed quiet for so long, it scared Kuroo. Maybe this wasn't the right time, you two were still in college, this was all so sudden, so impulsive, he should have waited, he should have —
All these thoughts were expelled from his head as he felt your body weight push against his, squeezing him so tight in an embrace that he could barely breath.
"Yes," you whispered against the side of his neck, he could feel the tears from your eyes splashing there as well, "oh my god Kuroo, yes, a million times over."
He smiled softly at you, resting his own head against your shoulder as you held him in your arms. If this is what the rest of his life looked like, then god was he excited for it.
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mxqdii · 3 months
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Hii i love your ADHD and bdp x matt headcanons sm I was wondering if you could do smth with anxiety reader? Like rly rly bad anxiety. I have extremely bad anxiety to the point where it has pulled me into depressive episodes and constant states of overthinking, needing reassurance 24/7 and always feeling alone/unwanted. I would rly rly appricate it sm if you did this it would mean so much to me as someone who struggles greatly. Maybe even mention like taking anxiety pills and stuff like that. (I was gonna do this annonymus but i decided not to incase you or anyone wants to talk💕 my dms are open)
headcannons - m.s x anxiety gf
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pairings: matt sturniolo x reader
summary: headcannons
warning(s): anxiety, mentions of medication.
not proofread
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first of all, matt would love any gf no matter what, we all also know that he also has his own mental health struggles
i feel like matt would definitely see some similarities in him and you (we all know he's an observer)
and since he observes you so much, he obviously notices the moments you get quiet, the way you cant stay focused, the way big crowds make you uneasy, he sees the signs.
he doesn’t really need to ask, cause he knows, and you know he knows
can easily read your body language, sees you shift in your seat? he knows you're uncomfortable, sees you picking your nails? he knows you're anxious
kind of likes the side of you when its just you and him , selfishly likes that he has you all to himself and that you feel this comfortable around him (and hopefully his brothers, eventually atleast)
when you have trouble sleeping, the night owl he is stays up anyways, playing with your hair until you fall asleep
always keeps rings on his fingers for you to fidget with instead of picking at your skin
if you get into a bad mental episode, he's by your side 24/7, helping however and whenever he can, whether thats driving you places or helping you shower, hes there no matter what.
(if you take meds) he'd watch you take them and be like "oh you take medication?" in the softest curious voice ever
that cues the overthinking and worrying that he'll see you different, but he's already reassuring you before you can get too far into it
reminds you to take your meds if you forget
sets alarms on his phone to remind you and him
a/n: so sorry this took so long!! hope you enjoyed :)
TAGLIST:
@opheliaofficial07 @stargirlv0id @strniolo @annaisabookworm @theperson-nextdoor @its-jennarose @thetriplets3 @gottamakemyhatersmad @luvsturniolo
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angelpassing-by · 3 months
Text
SOMETHING BAD GOING ON LATELY
Characters: Zhongli, Diluc. Genre: angst, comfort. Your boyfriend realises over time you're in a bad mental space and comforts you after you open up. Modern AU. Tw: self harm, not graphic mention of injuries and self harm scars, depression episodes. A/N: English is not my first language. A bit rambly and incoherent, I'm afraid-
ZHONGLI ִ  ֗- - - - - - - - ꔫ - - - - - - - - ִ  ۫ 
You hadn't really been feeling yourself lately. Things happened around you as if they were filtered by a distorted glass. Words had a static sound behind them, and even silence felt somehow too heavy.
You laid still most of the time, waiting for the time to pass by, one, two, five hours and counting. Without the soft humming of your partner the air on the appartment felt constricting. The couch wasn't even that comfortable, but you didn't have the energy to get up.
it took some time for the ex-archon to pick up on your behaviour, all in all, as an inmortal being, he was used to stillness. Plus, it definetly didn't help that you weren't normally very energetic either.
"Honey, are you feeling fine?"
That had been a particularly difficult day as you were forced out of your home by your friends. They laughed and joked and you felt so, so out of place through the entire time. You couldn't help but feel inadequate. You weren't as funny as them, or as pretty, or smart or kind. You just couldn't figure out how to reach to them, and in your poor state of mind, everything you could think about was how little you gave to them.
"Yes, just kind of tired, don't worry." You lied, slowly getting up and heading to the kitchen for a glass of water.
"Are you sure, you have been a bit down lately." He trailed behind you but his words seemed to vanish on thin air, or maybe be swallowed by too-thick air.
You couldn't be bothered to respond, why would you? Things changed around you, you could do nothing. Words were spoken, but life just continued after all, long and miserable. And you, you were just watching from the sidelines.
"Do you want to go somewhere? Or maybe just order takeout and watch something." Your boyfriend was getting anxious, he knew nothing about human beings.
Maybe you were sick.
"I'm fine. I'll go to bed early though so don't bother." You talked drily, where were the endearing nicknames or the shy smiles? Zhongli couldn't help but wonder.
You went to bed early without saying goodnight and were still fast asleep when he got up for work. Well, actually, you had prentended to be sleeping, feeling the sweet goodnight kiss on your temple and the squeeze on your hand when he left.
You felt like a terrible partner, avoiding your significant other. In truth, you were scared, what if he dind't seem real? What if he suddenly had the realisation that you were nothing but a bystander in everyone's life?
That night, the scene repeated, but instead of confronting you, Zhongli simply asked in a gentle manner "Can I hug you, my dear?"
That caught you by surprise and you absentmidedly nodded, still convinced that he wouldn't dare to touch you. But he did, wrapping you in big, warm arms and securing you to his chest, the fabric of his expensive suit rubbing against your cheek.
In that precise moment, time froze, the glass cage that had been keeping you isolated for weeks shattering. The thrumming of his heart against your ear, clearer than any sound you'd heard as of lately. His hands on your back felt so real, so genuine. You dind't even noticed that you were talking, softly wispering as he rubbed your back in circular motions.
"You're real."
DILUC ִ  ֗ - - - - - - - - ꔫ - - - - - - - - ִ  ۫ 
That was one of the only times when you could actually feel like yourself. When the pressure on your chest was lifted and the stream of tears clouded that little skeptical voice inside your mind.
"Are you even real?"
"Do you exists if no one looks at you?"
"Everything would be fine if you were gone."
The steady pulse hammering your head as the heavy droplets of crimson slide across your marred skin somehow gave you peace. And you felt horrible for it. Horrible for relapsing and falling again for old vices. Horrible for lying to your boyfriend. Horrible because everything was fine, yet you still felt distant from it all.
The tender scars across your arms itched as you tugged on your long sleeves, always paranoid that they would to slip down, just enough to reveal a trail of swollen skin and distorted lines. The anxiety making you space out from whatever your boyfriend was talking at that moment. Truthfully, you had no energy left to hear some story about drunkards or the mysterious Dark Night.
" - and of course, Charles just had to do it, you know?" Diluc, immersed in his monologue as he was, had unconsciously approached you, a shoulder brushing against you own.
You made an uncomfortable noise when he pulled you closer but aside from a hurt look, he let it slide and proceed to ask about your day. Pretty uneventful, you still managed to pull a believable performance sprinkling some exaggerations and white lies into your tale.
From that day on the exchange repeated a handful of times and finally you felt something change in the air between you two. Diluc became careful when approaching you, choosing to keep his distance, and colder, quite literally. You had grown, over the time you both had been together, accustomed to the heat that he naturally radiated due to his vision but now, with your body hidden under layers and layers of protective fabric, the temperature was unbearable. That coldness had seeped into the atmosphere at your home. With Diluc unable to use his love language in fear that it would make you uncomfortable, the tension built up.
"Did I do anything?" That was the last thing you were expecting that day.
You had slipped into bed quickly after a small dinner and Diluc had promptly followed you to the master bedroom, sitting out of arm reach at the edge of the mattress.
"No!" You voice came louder than you had expected it. "No" You repeated yourself quietly.
"Then why this? Did someone do something to you?" He finally looked at you, deeply into your eyes with a scared expression.
"No, it's got nothing to do with you or anybody else. It's just... too hot."
He smiled awkwardly and tried to joke it off "Am I really that hot that you can't stand being around me?"
But you didn't laugh and his serious face and deep frown reappeared. "Maybe if you didn't wear so many layers -"
"No"
"Why?"
And then it happened, it never occurred to you he would ask why. Why? And then you told him. The words pouring out of your mouth without any cohesion or structure. You told him about that part of yourself, the one that didn’t let you live in peace. You told him about that not feeling real that you carried around, about the cuts and how you didn't know how to stop, how to make the urge go away. You rambled until your throat felt sore and your head began pulsating with the familiar thrumming of an imminent headache.
"I know you are not fine, " he paused and moved closer to you "and I doubt there's anything really I can do. But I want - no - I need to help you. I can't stand to see you in pain, I love you too much and you love yourself too little. So please, tell me, what can I do?" His face pleading for something, anything.
Deep red eyes searched for yours before you hesitantly asked, "Can I hold your hand?"
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Note
aita for misusing a mental health term
everyone here’s a minor unless mentioned otherwise. basically, I have bad mental health issues. Most of my friends and family know this, but I also spiral sometimes- normally it goes from me being depressed, then suddenly that turns into both anger and mania.
at first I didn’t really know what it was called, honestly. I just called it me getting hyper and slided it off but its started to be a lot more relevant lately. It kept happening more often and eventually my partner and friends started just saying it was a manic state or mania, and I sorta just… took that in? And from then on I’ve been calling it that.
lately I’ve been under stress and I’ve realized that its been going on for longer periods and a lot more intense lately- for days at a time I’ve been having really big mood swings and having these episodes consistently.
i eventually vented it to a friend of mine and they got upset at me calling it ‘manic/mania’, saying that it was for people with personality disorders and that I couldn’t use it, and I’ve been trying to take that into note but I also dont really know if their correct or not, so I’ve sorta just… kept using it.
From then on they’ve been really upset at me and I think I miiight be TA?
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madelynraemunson · 6 months
Text
CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪
(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)
(strip club owner!eddie × fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!× reader)
𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ minors get out of my kitchen
Chapter 010: The Freak
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A fight breaks out at the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club.
* = somewhat smut
** = smut
↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*
word count: 4.4k words
warnings & disclaimers — mentions of seggs tr@ff!ck!ng, lots of blood, violence, physical altercation, profanities, glass shattering, screaming, jealousy
“I feel it coming, my soul cannot be found. I feel it coming, don’t fucking tie me down.”
Eddie is glued to Nina’s hip during her orientation.
You can hardly watch. You can’t even listen. All Back of the House seems to be talking about is the fact that the cute new girl pulled up to work with Eddie. Apparently she skipped out of the passenger side of his van stoned out of her mind, waltzing in absentmindedly while Eddie opened the door for her.
Nina’s excuse was that she didn't have a ride to work. And while that may be true, your jealousy was projecting itself...hard. The times you were in Eddie’s van sitting right where she was were completely unrelated to work.
But Nina is a pretty girl. Eddie does love doing favors for pretty girls who flatter him.
You still couldn’t figure out why no one will talk about anything else. Like how Henry has evidently been spiraling into a lonely, seasonal depressive episode and could snap any minute. Or how whoever is closing isn’t sweeping the aisle all the way through. Also, one of the lights keeps flickering. Totally throws off the whole vibe of VECNA’S LAIR.
But no, the hot topic of today’s shift is still Nina and Eddie.
It's an awakening for you though. Now you really understand and have accepted that you are no different from everyone else.
Eddie’s jokes? He recycles with everybody.
Food? Makes for everybody.
Smoking and drinking in his van? With everybody.
Calls on Henry to fight off the bad guys? Yes, for everybody…
You are not special.
Speaking of Henry…he’s off task again. Luckily lunches are usually not busy so he can afford to be away from the door.
Henry is at VECNA’S LAIR with you, chatting away with Eddie’s buddy Gareth while you give Gareth a lap dance. And you can tell by the eagerness in Henry’s eyes that he’s anticipating his dance that you agreed to do for him to combat his loneliness.
“You gotta let me know how your dance goes, Creel,” Gareth grins. “Shy Girl is one of the best.”
Gareth is one of your regulars. He went to school with Eddie, played in his band Corroded Coffin when they were younger, and he also tips well. Eddie usually stays and chats with him, but today he is off and aloof, avoiding any type of eye contact with the both of you.
Screw Eddie. He’s seemed to have forgotten about you already now that there’s a new toy for him to play with.
“I love how you move your hips, babe,” Henry comments, snapping you back into reality. “And how you bond with every customer. I had no idea men pay you just to talk to them sometimes.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” you nod all while grinding yourself onto Gareth, hands combing through his wavy hair and trailing down to graze his neck. “Some guys just come here just to vent. Business men, teachers, doctors...”
“That’s really nice,” Henry blushes.
“Bouncers too,” you wink at him. “You know, when they’re not clocked in and supposed to be working.”
Henry’s eyes widen as he realizes, and soon he’s back up and starting towards the door. You and Gareth share an innocent chuckle about it before carrying on with your business.
"I can tell that dude is lonely," Gareth makes the same observation. "He doesn't have that many friends outside work."
"I wonder why," you ponder aloud, doing a little dance on Gareth’s lap. "He's so nice."
"From what Eddie told me, it's hard for Henry to open up to people," your patron explains. "Dude had a fucked up home life when he was younger. Dad was a piece of shit to him and his sister. Abused the shit outta 'em and their mom."
There's a pattern here. You try not to think about it.
"Anyways," Gareth says pulling out a $20 bill. "Can you give me scratches on my back? Trying to make an ex flame jealous."
"You manipulative fuck," you banter, snagging the $20 from him anyway. "I'm sure you have your reasons though."
So you honor Gareth's requests and leave some sharp etchings on his back, one large scratch in the shape of a heart.
You scan the club as you work, searching for your sister. Max is spotted near the entrance of the club, acquainting herself with Lucas and Dustin. She also met Steve earlier today and admitted to you that she has an innocent crush on him.
Of course she would. Who wouldn’t have a crush on The King?
You smile at how easy Max makes friends. She tries not to look at you while working but sometimes her curiosity takes over.
Gareth nods towards her.
"I see your sister knows the big secret now."
"Yeah, one less thing to worry about," you shrug sheepishly.
"She's supportive, I'm assuming?"
"Very."
"That's good," Gareth rubs your back. "I'm happy for you."
“Thanks,” you smile.
You catch sight of Steve next as he walks over to you. He greets you with a warm kiss and rests a hand at your waist.
Eddie watches you with Steve and Gareth, attempting to remain composed and professional with Nina as he spots her on the pole.
"What is going on here?" Steve asks you.
"I'm trying to make one of Gareth's ol' lady friends jealous," you explain. "Leaving him scratches and all."
"I love your sharp ass nails," Gareth swoons. He hands you a five.
"You are just spoiling me today,” you coo. “You can pick out my nail color next, Gare.”
"Green," Gareth answers right away.
"Yeah, I second that," Steve agrees.
Steve leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back, affectionately, relishing in how beautiful Steve always made you feel. Meanwhile, Gareth watches, running his hands softly across your thighs and muttering a soft, “fuck…”
And then you hear Eddie clear his throat closeby you.
"Jesus H. Christ," you hear Eddie grimace.
Eddie sounds uncomfortable. Good. It is not until someone else speaks that you realize he was shaken up about something else.
“Well well well,” comes a voice. “Looking just as skanky as you did when I last saw you.”
You look to see the patron standing by the entrance. He’s the scariest he’s ever looked. Your heart sinks to the floor.
It’s hard for you to find the words. “You...”
“Boo,” he grins, amused at how startled you are. “Kinda insulting that you think all these men can give you more than I can.”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” you demand.
Frantic footsteps sound not too long after, and Henry comes spilling in. He looks mortified, panicked. He had one job and he failed to do it.
“Hargrove, I’m sorry!”
“Henry!” you scold him, almost at a scream-whisper. “You weren’t supposed to let him in!”
“I didn’t know!” Henry exclaims.
“I thought Eddie told you!”
“I forgot!” Henry says. “It all happened so fast.”
“Yeah, security here sucks,” the man you’re tempted to throw something at smirks.
A crowd starts to form, which is odd because no one said anything that inherently stood out. But energy doesn’t lie. The tension in the room is noticeable.
“You can’t be here,” Eddie’s voice darkens.
Eddie makes his way down from the stage and to the front of the club, Nina watching in confusion as everyone huddled around. Eddie clears his throat and stands with his chest propped forward, chin raised along with his gritted teeth.
“You’re not welcome here,” your boss snaps.
“That’s no way to talk to a customer…”
“I know who you’re here for and you can’t have her,” Eddie growls.
Eddie looks over at you. Making his way into the crossfire, Eddie creates even more space between the two of you. Henry stays where he’s at on high alert.
“And I own this joint. So I can refuse service to anyone… Billy.”
Your twin brother flashes a dangerous, amused smile. “I see I’ve become a household name.”
Billy inches closer to you, leaving you paralyzed in place.
He looks different from when you last saw him. A lot more muscular. His beer belly is gone, and he finally shaved that obnoxious porn stache that he swore drew in all the ladies. Billy looks more satisfied at your horror than angry at who you’ve become.
A million thoughts are racing through your head. How could your brother have possibly known where you are? Did you leave your location on? Did you butt-dial him? Was it 'twintuition'?
Then you remember he's Billy. And a sociopath like Billy always finds a way to win.
“Eddie Munson,” Billy continues. “Owner of The Hellfire Club. Drug dealer. Car jacker. The town FREAK who’s notorious for sleeping with his employees before attempting to sell them into a sex trafficking ring in the outskirts of town.”
“That is SO NOT TRUE!” you hear Chrissy scream from behind the boys.
“Oh, hey Cherry!” Billy chimes. “Huge fan of your work. So is Eddie, though. And a million other men, so what makes me special huh?”
Henry is hovering, lingering between Eddie and Billy with a stance you knew all too well. The angled torso, a hand floating ready to butt in. The memories come flooding into the room in the form of burning tears against your waterline. Your throat is tight.
“How…the fuck…” you choke. “Did you find me?”
Billy flashes you his phone. Looking through his cracked screen, you see that the evidence is all on Reddit. Sure enough, there you were, doing your thing in a video surrounded by tons of men, exposing your birthmark that’s oh so similar to Billy’s.
“This girl is so fucking hot!” a Redditor comments.
“What’s her name?” someone asks.
“She goes by Shy Girl,” another answers. “Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club in Hawkins, IN.”
It’s no surprise that Billy follows the ‘stripper’ Sub-Reddit. You’ve gone viral, so of course he was bound to see it.
“Ever heard of a digital footprint?” Billy questions darkly. “Shy Girl?”
You gulp. In the age of technology, you should’ve known that your cover would be blown if you stood out well enough. How could you be so stupid?
“Oh look!” your brother chuckles. “There it is, the biggest giveaway of all. Right front and center… your birthmark."
“You win,” is all you can say. “You can stop now.”
“I’m not trying to win anything,” Billy jeers. “I’m just saying, if you had a brain, you would’ve at least thought to cover it up with makeup or something.”
Eddie looks over at you with sad eyes. It’s the first time he truly looked helpless. A part of him also looks like his own cover is blown too. You can’t help but wonder why.
“Yeah, you could say I did my research,” Billy draws on. He shoves his phone back into his pocket. “It kept me occupied on the plane. The news articles aren’t hard to find either. Hawkins is pretty small. A whole shoebox compared to Leucadia.”
His eyes dart back to Eddie. “And I’ve read up a lot about you.”
“You know the media loves to twist things,” Eddie hisses. “Especially if everything about me fits the narrative they’re trying to sell.”
Billy decides to challenge him. “So you’re saying everything is fake news?”
Eddie doesn’t comment. It strikes you odd that Eddie doesn’t even try to defend himself. What could he and Billy possibly be talking about it?
“Funny, I on the contrary believe you’ve earned your reputation,” Billy insists.
“What is he talking about Eddie?” you ask.
“Just forget about it,” Eddie shuts down.
“Yeah, forget about it,” Billy somewhat agrees. He turns to you. “You’re coming with me.”
You turn to Max. She watches, terrified as Billy ushers you in the corner. You’re too drained to fight back so you let him. But when you finally meet his eyes, Billy looks like your brother again.
“Seriously, WHAT were you thinking?” his voice shows genuine concern.
Billy sounds more disappointed now than vengeful.
“This is all because of YOU,” you snap. “I had no choice.”
“That’s your bullshit excuse?” Billy demands, eyes welling up with tears. “You’re a fucking waitress! I’m sure Benny’s down the block would’ve sufficed.”
Billy’s an asshole, for sure. But at the end of the day he’s still a multifaceted human. When the trauma doesn’t take over, he’s a level-headed individual. A clear thinker with good critical thinking skills and an ability to read the room. Something you’ve spent your whole life second-guessing yourself over.
Your brother continues his tangent.
“YOU HAVEN’T DANCED IN YEARS, first of all. The only ‘stripping’ you know is when you go skinny dipping with your little hoe friends at Black's Beach. You don’t have a permit to dance, which I’m pretty sure is illegal somehow because EVERYWHERE ELSE in Indiana requires a stripping permit. You don’t even know anything about what this industry entails, yet you cannonball headfirst into it like it’s just easy. This industry is a hotspot for sex trafficking. Millions and women and little girls are kidnapped every year and forced into sex work, don’t you know that?”
Billy nudges the ribbons in your hair.
“Child-like ribbons in your hair too. You disgust me.”
He pauses. It’s like he has an epiphany. The devilish smirk returns.
“But maybe Eddie knew that,” he tuts, waving a stupid finger of his in the air. “BINGO! With the little experience you have, Eddie must’ve known you were naive. Desperate. A little bit of a slut. Eddie knew he just HAD to get his hands on you. Take advantage of you. Exploit you.”
“Shut up.”
You knew Billy was being dumb. But what he says makes sense. And in the depths of your wounded heart, what he said felt true in a sense. Because there was a time you did feel betrayed by Eddie. Meanwhile Eddie has gone pale.
All eyes are on you now, and not for the reason you want. Sure, it’s a strip club. But never have you ever felt so naked. Never has your soul ever felt so exposed.
“Yeah…” Billy grins. It’s like you can see the gears grinding in his head. He flashes Eddie a disgusted look. “That’s exactly what it is. You know, you give me the creeps, Munson. Sure you hear that a lot.”
“You give me the creeps…Hargrove,” Eddie counters. “With how IN LOVE you seem to be with your sister.”
Eddie takes a few steps towards him to elaborate.
“Showing up to the place she strips at…causing a scene when you see her on someone’s lap… and then proceeding to tell her no one will love her like you do?”
Eddie scoffs.
“Yeah. Totally not creepy.”
“We’re family, Eddie,” Billy sighs. “Families love each other. Of course you wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“Hey, douchebag—” Steve begins but Chrissy stops him.
“Too fucking far, Billy,” you plead. “Stop.”
“You know what else I found out?” Billy smiles. “Your boy toy Eddie comes from a long line of crooks.”
Billy turns to Eddie. “Your half brother Eagan is a con man in Montauk, New York. And your other brother Ansen Wayne back in Memphis got arrested for, guess what? Arson! Funny.”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Chrissy roars again.
But Billy proceeds. “And if I’m not mistaken, your dad Al is a drug dealer who married one of his clients, your mother. And guess what? When she wasn’t bringing him any money? He pimp slapped her in broad daylight and eventually slit her throat.”
Billy looks you in the eyes when he says that.
“How tragic,” Billy breathes. “Dad killing Mom.”
Billy turns back to Eddie.
“One dysfunctional ass family. And a poor excuse of a son.”
“Takes one to know one,” Eddie spits.
Billy laughs and nods. You’re surprised that doesn’t set him off.
“I’m not entertaining this,” your brother refuses. “I’m trying to be a better person, but Munson you are pushing it. Nah, my family is where I draw the line. Come on, sis. You’re coming with me.”
Yanking you by the wrist, Billy pulls you along with him.
“No,” you refuse.
But his grip is too tight. Now you’re just along for the ride.
“I would never do anything to hurt your sister,” Eddie says, running after you both. Henry follows closely behind Eddie. “Surely that’s something you can’t say.”
“You’d never do anything to hurt her?” Billy halts challenging him with the most satisfied grin on his face. “You’d never do anything to hurt her?”
Eddie nods. Billy releases you, sending you flying forward into Max’s arms. She’s shaking when you wrap your arms around her for comfort.
“What happened to Isabelle then, Eddie?” Billy taunts him. “Court records are also public, you know.”
Isabelle. Eddie’s ex-girlfriend. How does Eddie’s ex-GF fit into Hellfire’s narrative? In your mind you always thought Isabelle was a random chick.
The whole room is silent. It’s like a wave washed over everybody. Eddie simply stands there, no visible reaction besides the look of defeat.
Something tells you something is very, very wrong. Finally, Eddie speaks.
“Don’t you EVER bring up my wife again,” Eddie’s voice is breaking. “I loved her with my whole heart.”
Your world stops. Everyone else’s keeps going.
“Your wife?” you exclaim. “You have a wife?”
Billy exudes a Joker-like laugh as he watches the lore unravel.
“Ex-wife,” Eddie corrects himself. “We’re separated.”
His gaze burns into Billy.
“Since you’re such a historian, Hargrove,” Eddie hisses. “I’m afraid you missed the part where Isabelle used me to get her hands on my business and then weaponized the fact that she’s a woman to try and tarnish it during our separation. But of course, it doesn’t feed your narrative about me so you’re purposely leaving it out.”
“That’s what you get then,” Billy’s tongue glides against his inner cheek. “For getting involved with an employee. They’re all the same. A bunch of gold-digging whores.”
It all makes sense now. You look over at Eddie. Plastered on his face is the same haunted eyes he had the night he tried to resist your advances. Now you know why Eddie was so hesitant to pursue you. He wasn’t playing hard to get. He was guarding his heart. And his business.
“So, you wanna tell us about the trafficking ring?” Billy questions.
“I didn’t try to sell her,” Eddie spat. “God dammit. Our marriage was bleeding into work so I had to send her to a different club. One I thought I trusted. But the owner stabbed me in the back also.”
“Yeah!” Chrissy adds. “He was an undercover pimp! Didn’t you read the court docs on the plane like you said?”
“He’s not exactly book smart, Chris,” Eddie smirks. “Too many big words for his big brain to handle.”
There’s nothing else for Billy to say. His failed attempt to paint Eddie as the bad guy and him as the hero did not go to plan. But as usual, Billy wants the last word.
“Stay away from my sister.”
And soon your wrists are suffocated by his grip again. You whimper in fear as Billy drags you along, angrily pulling you towards the exit while resisting your kicks and shoves.
“This is what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna go put your fucking clothes on,” Billy’s voice shakes. “Grab your shit, and you and Max are gonna come back home with me. Away from this shady bullshit.”
You can tell Billy is also terrified for you. But this is your story to write now. Not his. This is a narrative he cannot control.
“No!” you scream. “My new life is HERE.”
“The fuck it isn’t,” Billy denies. “Your life and Max’s lives are in California.”
“Are you deaf?” Steve demands. “She said no. Let her go.”
“Aw, now Walmart Ashton Kutcher has something to say!”
“Leave me alone, Billy,” you wail. “We are not going with you.”
“It’s all an inside job,” Billy is shaking now. “He’s no good for you, sis. Don’t you understand? How can you be so blind?”
“It’s my journey!” you roar. “And my life. You don’t get to control me anymore, especially since you’re part of the problem. And I’d rather be provided for by men like you than live with you ever again.”
Billy can only chuckle. “You’re delusional.”
He grabs Max on the way out.
“Max come on.”
“NO!” Max refuses.
Steve jumps in front of her and pulls her behind him. Billy rushes to grab Steve but is pushed back by Henry.
“Why are you grabbing Harrington?” Henry demands.
“Why’s he grabbing my sister?”
You’re waiting for Billy to face Henry’s wrath. He’s already trying to create space between the both of you so that you can wriggle free.
“HEY!”
To your surprise, the fist that meet’s Billy’s nose isn’t Henry’s.
“EDDIE!” Chrissy shrieks.
“WHOA MAN!” Steve screams, trying to run and stop the fight but Henry tackles him.
“EDDIE WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Dustin demands. “EDDIE, STOP!”
Billy is blindsided by Eddie with little to no time to react. Eddie gets two good punches in when he’s sprawled on top of him.
But Billy is quick to bounce back. Already accustomed to punches, Billy allows Eddie a few more blows to tire him out. When his hair gets in the way, Billy grabs Eddie by the wrist and tosses him off, hoisting himself over him to get him in a headlock.
“Son…of…a BITCH!” Eddie elbows him.
And as Billy scrunches to block his ribcage, Eddie gets him with a good left hook and a right cross-jab.
Blood splatters from Billy’s nose onto the surrounding area.
“HOLY SHIT!” Dustin shrieks.
“BILLY!” Maxine screams.
“You guys, STOP!” you order.
You rush over to your brother and attempt to pry him off. Steve rushes to Eddie and tries to do the same.
Billy’s stumbling back, unusual since he always wins fights. This is causing you to stumble back and lose your grip on him. Eddie gets a few more good punches in.
Jab. Jab. Jab. Jab-cross. Upper cut. Upper cut. And a seismic kick to the solar plexus.
Eddie Munson is strong.
“EDDIE, LEAVE HIM ALONE!” cries Chrissy. “YOU’RE GONNA KILL HIM IF YOU DON’T STOP.”
“Yeah?” Eddie mutters. “Well that’s kinda the plan.”
When he hears that, Henry stops whatever he’s doing to charge towards Billy and Eddie. You feel yourself grow lightheaded because of the amount of blood that has been expelled. You can almost smell the iron.
“Nope. That’s enough,” Henry declares, dragging your boss away this time.
Eddie has the advantage now during this time, and he uses all of it, punching Billy mercilessly into the ground. Billy tries to get up, but fails, and just when he’s not looking, Eddie sneaks a few roundhouse kicks to his head and neck.
The blood starts to pool.
“EDDIE, STOP!” everyone continuously chants.
“EDDIE, LET IT GO MAN!” Gareth begs.
“EDDIE, GET OFF OF HIM NOW!” Chrissy pleads.
“IT’S NOT WORTH IT!” Steve says to him.
“YES THE FUCK IT IS!” Eddie roars. “IT IS WORTH IT!”
The sound of glass shattering fills your ears as you look over at the boys. Henry managed to tackle Eddie in one brisk movement, unfortunately taking a small table that housed some beer bottles on it with them.
Now it smells like rust and Corona.
Gareth and Steve take over now, pulling Eddie away while Eddie cusses Billy out through his bloody nose. Meanwhile, Max rushes to Billy’s side and urges him to get out. Henry runs to her aid, dragging out your volatile twin brother so he wouldn’t harm anybody else. Billy’s out of sight now, but the thought of him still lingering in Hawkins until he sees you two again is unsettling.
“Whoa,” Steve exhales.
“What?” you ask him, crossing your arms in frustration.
“Eddie just fought someone,” he pants. “Your brother, Billy at that.”
You try to shrug it off. “Big deal,” you say. “Fights happen all the time here.”
“You don’t understand Hargrove,” Henry says, walking up you. “Eddie never fights anyone.”
You turn to face Henry.
“That’s what I’m here for,” the unscathed bodyguard explains.
———————-
The first person you go over to is Max. Consoling each other, you both hug one another and rock back and forth.
You look off into the corner and see Dustin with a tampon, trying to shove it up Eddie’s bloody nose while Nancy watches in amusement. Eddie swats Dustin’s hands away, mumbling, “Get that shit away from me” and setting for Kleenex instead.
“Shy Girl,” Nancy calls out. “Please come and get your man.”
Confused that she’s even talking to you that way, it dawns on you that Nancy is talking about Eddie. You walk towards Nancy, who is behind the bar, supervising Eddie and Dustin from a distance.
“Do you have some ice?” you ask her.
She holds up a pack she had been preparing.
“Way ahead of you love,” Nancy says.
You chuckle and thank Nancy as you take the ice from her. She gives you a nod, you’re welcome.
“He’s not my man, by the way,” you add, correcting her. “Just did something really sweet.”
“Well does his ass know that?” Nancy raises a brow. “Only a dumbass in love does shit that crazy and stupid.”
You look over at Eddie. His eyes find you at the same time. Chrissy is over in the corner with Nina, talking her down from the anxiety witnessing a fight that bloody must’ve caused her. Steve is over at the lair still, thinking. You can’t read the expression on his face.
Your grip on the ice pack tightens as you walk closer to Eddie. He gives you a nod and a terrible excuse of a wave, slowly wincing in pain after the slightest raise of his left arm.
“You are vile,” you say in his voice from the day it all fell apart. You extend your hand with the ice pack in it to him.
Feeding into your truce, Eddie looks up at you with a faint smile. He takes the ice pack in his hand.
“I prefer the term protective,” he parrots you.
———————————
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lieutenantfloyd · 26 days
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Love is a mystery | Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal x reader
Word Count: 841
Summary: With Harry’s help, Rosie finds old hobbies and new love in post-war New York.
Warnings: Mentions, of war, implied ptsd and depression, talk of marriage and pregnancy.
Authors Note: I honestly don't know where this idea came from, but I think my brain needed something a bit fluffy after watching all nine episodes of Master of the Air in two days and crying the whole time. [This is based off of the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I have nothing but wholehearted respect for the real life individuals and situations portrayed.]
Read on AO3
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In the months following their return stateside, Crosby takes a trip to see Rosie. During a nice casual lunch, he spends far too long dancing around the fact that Rosie is visibly not okay, and eventually suggests that getting back into things he enjoyed before the war will greatly help his readjustment.
Rosie briefly considered placating him with an "I'm fine, really," but he only nods, unable to lie to Crosby. 
The truth is Rosie hasn't slept one full night since his first at Thorpe Abbotts and he gladly accepts shaky hands and reddened eyes over the twilight memories of what he saw and those he's lost.
Yet, after a night of particularly bad insomnia, he takes Crosby's words to heart and heads to the library. The pen trembles against Rosie's calloused hand while he fills out the library's card application, but his voice is steady when he asks the pretty librarian for recommendations.
He's too distracted by your shiny, kind eyes to notice how you recognize the distant look in his own. contrarily, You note in your diary that night how you couldn't tell if it was sympathy or his easy charm that made your heart race wildly while suggesting some classics and mysteries that should keep his mind busy.
-
"you need to get out more, Rosie," Crosby states in a letter one day.
It just so happens that during a now routine trip to the library, Rosie notices a half-hidden flier for an Agatha Christie book club pinned to the community board.
A week later—spurred onward once more by Harry's words—he pulls himself out of bed, has a shower and shave, and attends the meeting.
The cracked glass of Rosie's brown leather watch allows him to see he's half an hour late as he ascends up the small steps in front of the building.
Designated meeting room C is quiet and mostly dark as he pulls the handle. He's three solid steps inside the door when the room's sole occupant looks up at him—you, that same librarian with those same eyes.
He barely has half a mind to choose one of the provided refreshments—a cup of black coffee dangerously close to room temperature—before sinking into one of the many empty seats. The weary but logical part of him says that this is a waste of time, but the remnants of his fun-loving side tell him that he's got nothing to lose.
He takes a sip of coffee and sinks further into his seat.
While exchanging kind pleasantries, you retrieve a well loved copy of Why Didn't They Ask Evans? from your envelope handbag. Rosie quickly follows suit and slips his own newly bought but already dog eared book out of his leather coat pocket.
"So you liked it?" you inquire with joyfully clasped hands and a voice filled with breathtaking earnestness. After nearly choking on a hefty drink of coffee and his fluttery nerves, Rosie lets a bashful smile slip past his defenses.
Ninety minutes pass completely uncounted before Rosie steps back out onto the snowy, bustling New York City streets. He quickly shuffles home, tossing his coat and book onto a chair before dropping down onto his bed. He intends to return the items to their rightful place after a short rest, though the book will find a home on his bedside table after he spots your number jotted on the inside corner in loopy, flowing handwriting.
-
Spring is well in bloom when Rosie and Harry see each other again. 
Rosie spends the following two days giving the Crosby family a tour of the best sights and eats his hometown has to offer. 
Their third evening in town has Crosby swaying his young son to the music flowing through the jazz bar while covertly helping Rosie draft his proposal speech. You and Jean are sat within arms reach, though you both pay the boys no mind as you're fully entranced by the music. The night winds on, and the draft becomes a full, completed speech. They share a coy laugh as Rosie slips the notebook back into his vest pocket, knowing that if all goes right this moment will find its way into Crosby's best man's speech.
In this smoky bar just past dinner time, they both accept that they aren't the same men they were before the war. They’d seen a hell no words could ever describe, and yet the world somehow kept turning. They escape to the bar soon after, where Harry tells him that he'll soon be a father once more. Rosie offers his congratulations and jokes that he won't be far behind. The bar is dim, but Crosby still catches a glimpse of the lighthearted playfulness returning to his friend's eyes.
You and Jean coo and fuss over the baby as the men say their goodbyes. Through an especially tight hug, they make each other a silent promise to keep holding on. If not for who they were before but for who they are—and what they have —now.
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jellalism · 5 months
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Wriothesley x GN!Reader fic: To soften the pain
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You're in a depressive episode. Wriothesley comforts you.
Word count: 645
Genre: Comfort
Content warnings: Depression; mention of a meal.
Notes: Reader is gender neutral.
Read below or on AO3.
“Wriothesley?” You step through the large doors and move towards the stairs leading to his office. 
“Hi dear,” he responds before you’re even within his field of vision. When you’re high enough up the staircase, you look over the Duke’s desk. Wriothesley is sitting behind it, handling some papers, not looking up.
There’s a surprisingly large amount of paperwork that comes with running the Fortress. You once asked whether the amount of bureaucracy in the Fortress of Meropide couldn’t be reduced. After all, it’s an autonomous entity and is not required to follow the regulations of the Palais Ordalie. Wriothesley had laughed and explained that, even though it’s formally autonomous, the Fortress still collaborates with the Palais, and so must deliver the documents that it requires. Its bureaucracy is inescapable. You often find him in the position he is now, hunched over files.
He doesn’t look up as you enter the office. “What brings you here? Have something to ask, or did you just miss me?” His tone is light and teasing.
You’re not sure how to answer that. You did miss him, but it would be wrong to reduce the reason for your visit to just that.
At your silence, he finally gazes up at you and looks at your face. His expression grows serious and he stands up, walks to you, and places his strong hands on both your shoulders. “What’s wrong? You look exhausted.”
“I am.” You want to speak at a normal volume, but all your throat produces is a whisper. “I feel like shit.”
At those words, Wriothesley pulls you close. For a few moments, he doesn’t say anything; he just lets you soak in his warmth. He feels safe. “I’ll clear out the rest of my day for you. I want to be with you tonight.” He kisses the top of your head.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to go that far…”
“I want this too, you know. You’re not the only one who’s been missing their partner.” He holds you a little tighter. “Haah… I know it’s been only a few days, but I really wanted to hold you again like this.”
You smile slightly — something you haven’t done in a few days. “I missed you,” you mumble. Your voice is muffled as your face is buried in his chest.
“I missed you too, love.” His voice is soft and calming. With one hand, he plays with your hair. “Do you want to tell me what makes you feel so bad?”
You disentangle yourself a little bit from him so it’s easier to breathe and speak. “Not sure,” you mutter. “Sometimes, the depression just hits, you know? Well, maybe you don’t know. I hope you don’t know.”
“I don’t know, but I can imagine.” He still holds you in his embrace. “Is there anything I can do to make it easier? Anything, from a hug to the more practical things.” You’ve talked about depression with Wriothesley before, and he knows it makes it harder to take good care of yourself.
“Maybe… If it’s not too much trouble… You can help me clean the dishes?” It feels silly to ask for something stupid like this. What kind of pathetic loser needs help doing something so basic?
Instead of answering, Wriothesley lifts your chin and presses a kiss to your lips. “I see you talking yourself down. But nobody gets to insult my lovely partner. Not even you.” He sounds stern, but his smile is a teasing one. “I’ll help you clean the dishes and anything else you need. Later tonight. For now… How about we get something to eat above ground? I think you could use a good meal.”
You nod. He stands up, dragging you along with it. “Alright then. It’s a date night now. I promise you you’ll feel better by the end of the day.”
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frenchkisstheabyss · 9 months
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♡ lover boy♡
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Pairing: boyfriend!felix x chubby!fem!reader
Summary: Your new boyfriend comforts you during a depressive episode.
Genre: fluff/angst-ish
Word Count: 849
Warnings: mention of depression/some dark thoughts & feelings
A/N: Just wanted to write something for anyone out there who might struggle with depression and need some comfort ♡
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This couldn’t have happened at a worse time...
But it was bound to happen at some point, you think, burying your face in your hands, a puddle of tears forming in your palms. Things have been going so well with Felix, better than they have with any other guy. From day one he’s been your Prince Charming.
Taking you on dates to botanical gardens blooming with flowers you thought could only exist in fairytales. Packing you lunch for work whenever he stays over with cute little notes tucked in the bag to brighten up your day.
Felix is a dream come true for you. You wanted, with everything inside of you, to be the same for him, but all of that’s over now. You’re sure of it. It’s the first night you’ve spent at his apartment, mere days after the two of you became official, and you’re curled up on his bathroom floor crying your heart out at 2 in the morning.
It’s nothing he did. He’s been a sweetheart, as always, cooking you dinner and making sure that you’re comfortable. Still, depression’s found a way to creep up on you, flooding your mind with thoughts that tear at the thin layer of confidence you’ve been pouring all of your energy into maintaining.
The pain is like a ton of bricks in your stomach. An invisible hand around your throat gripping tighter the more you struggle to twist away. The voice in your head, telling you that you aren’t good enough, mocks you for being silly enough to think you could hide this part of you from Felix forever.
He’ll see you, really see you, and he'll hate what he sees.
“Y/N, what’s going on?” Felix’s voice breaks through deep and scruffy from having just woken up, somehow remaining soothing in all of its power. Lifting your head up, you wipe your tears on the sleeves of your pajama shirt, positive you look a complete wreck. This is it. The end.
“I don’t…” you stutter, unsure of how to explain yourself, “I’m so sorry.” Based on the confusion that paints his face, you half expect him to back away only for him to do the exact opposite. He’s not running away, he’s grabbing handfuls of tissue, kneeling down beside you to tidy up your runny nose. 
“Talk to me. Did something happen? Did I do…” You sniffle, shaking your head, “It’s not you. It’s me. I’m just…fucked up I guess. Too depressed to keep my shit together.” Your head falls again, this time resting on your knees, and you close your eyes, wishing you could start this night over again.
For a brief moment, Felix shuffles around in a direction you can't pinpoint before two arms wrap around your body, hands clasped together where they meet your soft belly. He pulls you against his chest, strands of long hair brushing your cheek as his chin rests on your shoulder.
“You shouldn’t say that.”
There’s a sense of safety and connectedness within his arms that you haven’t felt in, well, ever. You're almost ashamed at how intensely his warmth shields you from the cold darkness closing in.
“You’re not fucked up. You’re just hurting and that’s okay. Well, it’s not okay but it’s…fuck I’m so bad at this.” Rolling your eyes, you reach a hand up to stroke his cheek, “Shut up. You’re not bad at this.” “Are we gonna sit here all night complimenting each other?” he teases, “Because we can. My butt will probably go numb though. I don’t have as much cushion as you. Don’t know what you see in me.”
The faintest giggle on your part has him kissing your neck, bear hugging you. “There’s my girl and that beautiful smile of hers.” “Don’t get used to it” you sigh, “It won’t last.” Felix just shrugs, “Doesn’t have to. I’ll still be here. I don’t care about you under the condition that you’re happy 24/7. You know that, right?” 
“I, well, I didn’t know…”
“Well, now you do.” 
His palm meets the back of your hand, fingers twining around yours to bring your arm down to your waist. “Let me be here for you. Give me a chance.” Hearing someone say that, hearing him say that, is more terrifying than you expect it to be. Trust is hard, trust is risky…
Felix leans forward to get a good look at you, a glimmer in his still sleepy eyes
…but if there’s anyone worth taking a risk on it’s the freckle faced boy staring back at you. 
“Uh…yeah…okay.” 
He smiles, “Yeah?”
 It’s impossible not to smile back, “Yeah.”  
“Good.”
Felix loosens his hold on you enough that he has room to lean his head on your back. “Want me to sing to you?” he yawns. You settle comfortably into the arms of your Felix, your safety blanket, letting your eyes fall closed from exhaustion. “Sing what?”
A stretch of silence lingers as he scans his brain for the perfect song to fit the moment.
“Oh! Got it! Fake eyes open…” 
“Felix!” you yell, slapping him on the knee.
“What? Bad timing?”
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