#tw.depression.

[nkogneatho]

okay i want to take this moment and talk about myself.

i started writing when i was 10. at that time they were just silly poetries and i won a lot of prizes for that but i never thought i'd ever be able to actually write fanfiction. thanks to quarantine, years later that became possible. i started digital art somewhere around 2020 and it was basic and boring but a start. i know this sounds stupid since i am not a professional writer neither i am that good at art but i don't want to compare myself. i am so proud of everything i've been doing lately and my improvements are making me so happy. it's silly. maybe it's overacting for something so small, but i've struggled with depression for 6 years and i got better when i picked up a pen, or a book or my guitar. my hobbies have helped me so much in life and i never expected to be good at any of them, but here i am. making progress. to the 10 year old me, i love you baby. i am so proud that you kept doing what you loved.

#not me getting emotional :') #tw.depression #pasi.txt

[croimilis]

If the World was Ending

title: if the world was ending

character: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x ex!reader (he calls them peach/peaches)

rating:  13+ 

words:  10k + 

themes: angst, hurt-comfort

warnings: hangmans an asshole (with good intentions), cursing, alcohol, drunkneness, crying, heartbreak, soft hangman,  discussions of depressive episode, minor snooping?

summary: “would you love me for the hell of it? all our fears would be irrelevant” 

Despite breaking up 5 years ago, you are the one person Jake would turn to if the world was ending, which it might be given he thought the only time he would see you again would be the end of the world. The worst part, he didn’t even mean to call you. Didn’t even know your cell number was still in service, or that you were in the same city as him and yet here you are, ushering him gently into your car and taking him home. 

a/n: this is part of the ‘fly me to the moon’ universe. parts of this are rushed and not great as i wanted to get it out, never the less, i hope you enjoy.

tags:  @xoxabs88xox​

Jake was absolutely fucked, the room was spinning and he could barely stand by himself and had to be supported by Coyote, who was currently helping him out of the bar. They were the last two standing from the group of Rooster’s groomsmen who had gone out for an unofficial bachelor party and Coyote only really stayed to make sure Hangman didn’t hurt himself or drown himself in his sorrows completely. 

Coyote leans his best friend against the brick wall of the bar and looks him up and down with a sigh. Hangman was usually so good at holding his liquor, was good at making sure he didn’t overdo it and yet here he was, as if he was a barely legal college student experiencing the freedom of legally drinking once again. He was a mess and Coyote didn’t know what to do with him.

Coyote crossed his arms and gave his friend a stern look, “Stay here.” He goes only a foot or so away to make a call, his eyes lingering on Jake to make sure he did as he was told. As the person on the other side of the phone answers with a soft hello, Coyote turns away for a few seconds. 

In that time, Jake clumsily fishes his phone out of his pocket and struggles to unlock it, entering the passcode in wrong twice before face id kicked in and it unlocked automatically. He smiled wistfully at the image on his home screen, it was years old but it was still one of his favourites that he transferred between phones.  In his inebriated state, he only wanted one person and he scrolled through his contacts until he reached the one he wanted in the ‘L’ section labelled as ‘love of my life’. 

He presses the call button, like he had done a million times before but unlike the times before it doesn’t ring out. Instead, after a few rings, there's an answer and a soft and muffled ‘hello?’ is spoken from the other side. Jake's eyes widened slightly and his head rolled back against the brick of the bar. He wasn’t expecting you to pick up, certainly wasn’t expecting to hear your voice again after 5 years and the sound made him dizzy.

Another ‘hello?’ comes through the line, this time followed by a gentle “Jake?” He smiles at the sound, having missed it all these years, and melts a little on the inside the same way he used to when you were his. “Miss ya peaches.” His words slur together and, combined with the southern twang of his accent now fully presenting itself, you struggle to understand what he’s saying, your eyebrows creasing together as you slowly sit up in your bed, 

“Why are you calling me at 3am?” Your voice is soft, but still holds a firmness in it that you usually used when you were cross at him. Despite the crossness in your tone, he still relished in the sound and closed his eyes to memorise your voice once again. A few seconds of silence roll by and Jake hears shuffling on your side, you’re moving to swing your legs off your bed, shoving your feet into the running shoes you always kept by your bed.

“Jake.” He hums in response, and you roll your eyes on the other side. You knew rightly that he was drunk beyond belief, it was the only time the cocky pilot was ever this quiet and not firing off some flirty remark. “Where are you?” 

His eyes look at the signboard outside the bar, the writing was blurry and unfocused and if only the goddamn thing would stop spinning he would be able to tell you for certain where he was, “The Fo…Frog and the…” He squints his eyes to see if that would help, it didn’t really, “meal..smart” 

Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion and you let out a small sigh, the gears in your mind grinding to try and make sense of what he was saying when it finally hit you, “You mean the Dog and the Metal Smith in San Diego?” 

“That’s the one.” You can hear the grin in his voice through the speaker and you just sigh as you lift yourself from your bed, grabbing an old jumper that was on your vanity as you walked past, “Stay there, I’m coming for you”. 

You hang up your phone and Hangman lets a goofy smile spread across his face, one that has Coyote concerned as he turns back to his friend, his own conversation over.  Jake looked like the cat that ate the canary the way his lips spread in a cheshire cat grin and so Coyote approached him apprehensively. 

“Hangman…” He places a hand on his friend's shoulder, leaning down slightly so he could look Jake’s slouched form in the eyes, “Phoenix is gonna be here in 15 to bring us home.” 

A giggle passes through Hangman’s lips and Coyote almost flinches back, it was a sound he hadn’t heard from Jake before. It was foreign and a far cry from the confident man he knew, more so verging on a sound made by a lovesick school girl when discussing their crush, and suddenly Coyote’s concern level rises. 

“Jake….dude are you okay?” Jake looks at Coyote, and he looks almost as love sick as he sounded, “(Y/N)’s coming to get me Javy”. 

Coyote lets out a small sigh, eyes trailing over his friend with sympathy. 5 years later and he still wasn’t over you. “(Y/N)’s not coming buddy.” 

Another giggle passes through Hangman’s lips as he thrusts his phone toward Coyote, the device still unlocked, and Coyote takes it from his hands with a questioning glance before he looks at it. It was on the recent call screen and there it was, “Love of my life….5:00”. Coyote still didn’t believe it. The number could have been reassigned to someone new and Hangman was probably just mumbling incoherent nonsense to some poor stranger on the other line. Coyote was going to break the news to Hangman, but one look at his friend's face and he stopped. He looked hopeful, almost childlike with glee, and Coyote couldn’t take that away from him. 

It had been obvious since Rooster had announced his engagement to Angel that something was off with Hangman, the other’s didn’t notice it but having known the Texan for so long Coyote noticed. Though he smiled and congratulated the couple, it didn’t really reach his eyes. Instead, there was a lingering sadness in his eyes and maybe a look of regret. And usually, Jake was the life of the party but the night of the announcement, and even tonight, Jake was quiet and reserved. Keeping to himself for most of the night, simply observing the rest of the pilots as they celebrated with eyes glazed over as though his mind was a million miles away.  

Coyote had his suspicions as to why, had managed to pull a small confession from the man after a few beers at his place, though it was like trying to pull teeth, in which Jake admitted to that it reminded him of the biggest mistake of his life. Coyote was then able to put the pieces together, he knew what Jake's biggest regret was, it was you. Well, not you as a person, not your relationship with him, god your relationship with him was probably the best thing that ever happened, what he regretted was leaving. 

Coyote let out a small sigh before leaning against the wall beside his friend, watching him from the corner of his eye as he simply stared up at the sky with a lovesick look and a goofy grin on his face. He was going to be heartbroken when he realises you weren’t actually coming. They stand for that for a little bit, Hangman simply staring up at the starless sky and Coyote watching him carefully to make sure he doesn’t tumble to the ground and hurt himself, or choke on his own vomit. 

The sound of a car pulling up causes Coyote to turn his eyes away from Jake for a few seconds to check if it was Phoenix who had pulled up, it shouldn’t have been because she had said she was going to be at least 15 minutes and it had only been about 10, and it isn’t. The car that pulls up is an old ford truck that Coyote instantly recognises from the bit of customised body work on the side of an apple tree with your family name through the bark. His eyes widen and his jaw goes slack as you climb out of the driver's side, having instantly spotted the inebriated blonde leaning against the wall.  

“(Y/N)” 

He tries, and fails, to hide the shock in his voice and his face as you give him a small smile. “Hey Coyote.”

He props himself up from the wall and gives you a hug, you were friends before everything went down and he missed you. “What are you doing here?” You return the hug and give him a small squeeze, you adored Coyote and had missed him as well. The two of you would frequently have wine nights together whenever he was in town while you and Jake were still together.

“I’ve come to take the cowboy home.” 

As you pull away from Coyote your eyes rake over Jake's figure slumped against the wall, he had yet to see you instead keeping his eyes on the night sky his mind somewhere other than the present moment. You had only seen Jake this drunk once before, it was at a frat party while you were in college (he had gotten some time away from the naval academy and had come to visit you) and he had got into a testosterone filled competition with one of the members and ended up doing a high number of mystery shots and a keg stand. The night ended with you dragging him back to your room at your sorority next door and Jake admitting to be in love with you. 

“Do you know where he lives?”

You look up at Coyote and shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t but I don’t live too far and was planning on bringing him to mine.”  Coyote nods slowly at your words, he had a small smile on his face and his eyes were soft. He was surprised you were here, mainly because he wasn’t convinced Jake had actually managed to get in contact with you but also because he knew Jake had broken your heart 5 years ago, your life had fallen apart because of the man and yet, here you were. You always were a caring soul, one that was prepared to drop everything for someone you loved and cared for no matter how long ago it was you loved them.

“It might be best to take him to his own place, that way he’s close to base if he gets called in suddenly, I can give you the address.” 

“Okay, let me get him into the truck first”

You approached Jake slowly, afraid to startle him with how drunk he is but he fails to notice you even as you stand directly in front of him. He was well and truly gone and you wondered if he would remember any of this in the morning. You reach out and gently touch his shoulder. 

“Jake?” Your voice is soft, again trying not to startle the man, and you could swear that the goofy smile he was wearing got bigger at the sound of your voice. Slowly his head dips forward from where it was leaning against the wall so that Jake is now looking at you.

“Peaches!” While your voice had been soft and quiet, Jake’s was loud and a little high-pitched as he called your name out in surprise, and you jump at it slightly since you weren’t expecting the volume. Jake clumsily pushes himself off the wall, standing to his full height while stumbling a little, and wraps his arms around your body to pull you into a tight hug. 

You let out a small grunt at the force he uses to pull you into him and though you wrap your arms around Jake, more so to steady the tall blonde than anything, you cringe at the smell. You were used to Jake smelling fresh, like clean linens and whatever aftershave or cologne he was wearing, but now he absolutely stunk of whiskey and cheap beer. You scrunch your nose up at the smell and Coyote chuckles at the sight, causing you to flip him off as you manage to pull back from Jake’s death grip. 

“Let’s get you home cowboy.” 

Jake hums and sways where he stands as you fully separate from him and take a step back expecting him to follow you, but he just stands there with the goofy, toothy grin still on his face as he watches you. You huff and cross your arms over your chest, looking over to Coyote for help, “Come on cowboy, I ain’t strong enough to carry ya.” 

Instead of replying, he just reaches his arms out to you wanting nothing more than to have you in them once again. You sigh again and Coyote lets out another chuckle, which gets a quick glare from you, but he steps forward and wraps his arms around his friend. “C’mon bud, let’s get you into the truck.” 

You mouth a quick ‘thank you’ to Coyote as you walk around and open the door of your truck as Jake stumbles behind you with the help of Coyote. “C’mon, in you get.”  

You step to the side of the door to allow Jake to climb in, which he struggles to do. He misses the step a few times, causing giggles to spill from his lips every time he misses and small ‘yes!’ to slip when he finally gets the step and manages to push himself into the truck. You affectionately roll your eyes at his antics and smile to yourself as you reach in and make sure his seatbelt is buckled. 

As you finish buckling him in, he reaches for your face and turns you toward him for a kiss but you swerve your head just in time so his lips land on your cheek instead. You close your eyes as you feel your heart clench at the action, and you hate yourself for it especially as you close the door and see the sad look in his eyes and pouting lips. But you have to ignore it, if you didn’t your resolve would break and you would be left heartbroken all over again. 

You join Coyote at the front of the car and lean against the hood with your arms crossed, matching his pose but your eyes are cast to the sky while his lingers on you. You sit in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the soft summer breeze and the presence of one another. You always felt safe with Coyote, like you could lay the very secrets of the universe at his feet and he wouldn’t tell a soul, his energy was calming. 

The quiet was broken by Coyote, who had been eying you up and down with his eyes lingering on the oversized jumper with a faded imprint of ‘Navy’ on your figure that obviously belonged to Jake at one point in time.

“I can’t believe you came.” You shifted from looking towards the sky to looking toward the ground as you let out a small sigh before looking up at Coyote. 

“Neither can I.” 

“Why did you?” 

You sigh once again, something you seem to be doing a lot tonight, and shrug your shoulders as you chew on your bottom lip. You didn’t even know why you came yourself, for all intents and purposes you should absolutely despise Jake Seresin. Should hate him with your entire being. Yet, you can’t. Something inside of you just refuses to let you hate him, probably that stupid part of your heart and mind that still clings onto the love you had for him. 

“I don’t know.” 

Coyote doesn’t question you further and the two of you fall into silence once again, one that Coyote once again breaks as he glances back at your car. “Can’t believe you're still driving this thing.” 

You snort and smile up at him, “Please, as if I was gonna let him into my jag like this.” 

Coyote lets out a low whistle as he raises an eyebrow, “A jag? Damn girl, have you gone all upper class on us?” You roll your eyes and push at his shoulder with a laugh. You had genuinely missed Coyote, missed the banter with him.

“How ya getting home, Javy?” 

“A friend, Phoenix..er.. Natasha is coming to get me.” 

You nod your head, a contentment settling inside you knowing that Javy was going to be safe seeing as your truck only fit you and Jake into it. Speaking off, you glance back into the car and see that Jake had his head thrown back against the headrest with his eyes closed. He looked like he was sleeping and part of you felt relieved that you wouldn’t have to try and converse with the drunk Texan while you brought him home. 

“Speaking off, here she is.” 

You look back ahead of you, seeing a brunette step out of a car with a bit of a sour look on her face, probably from being woken up at such an unreasonable hour to come pick up her idiot friends. Coyote turns to you as she approaches, telling you Jake's address and giving you a tight hug that you gladly return and whispering a quiet ‘take care of him’ as he pulls away. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll uh… I’ll stay the night. Make sure he doesn’t choke to death in his sleep, y’know.” Coyote chuckles at your comment and places a quick kiss to your forehead as you round him and head to the driver side door, hearing the brunette grumpily ask who you and why you have Jake in your van, smiling slightly as Javy simply says your an old friend before the conversation fades out as you close the door. 

---

For the most part, the drive back to Jake's place is relatively quiet. He had, in fact, fallen asleep in the five minutes you stood with Coyote and waited for his ride to arrive. The only sound is the rumbling of your engine alongside the soft snores and grumbling that fall from Jake’s lips until a rough speed ramp jolts him awake. 

Waking with a start, Jakes head whips from side to side as he tries to figure out where he was, if only the world around him would stop spinning for two seconds. He groans loudly, head falling forward as he closes his eyes to stop the spinning and the nausea starting to creep its way through his body.

“Sorry.” Your voice is gentle as you glance at him from the side of your eye, concern falling into place on your face as you watch the aviator try and right himself. Another small groan falls from Jake’s lips in response as he lifts his palms and digs them into his eyes, rubbing gently at them in a desperate attempt to prevent the spinning from happening again once he opens his eyes. 

“Here” You had reached down into the console beside you and lifted a bottle of water that you had grabbed from your fridge as you rushed out the door, the bottle was slightly slippery with the condensation that covered it. Jake's eyes opened, and though the world had stopped spinning like he was on a carousel it swayed gently and he was still seeing double, something that was evident as he reached for the bottle of water and missed. 

After a few tries, in which his face scrunches up in concentration, he finally gets it and gives a small mumbled ‘thank you’. You smile to yourself, biting down on your lip to suppress the giggle that was bubbling its way to the surface slowly, which became even more difficult as Jake struggled to open the bottle in his hands. 

Finally a small giggle slipped past your lips and Jake's look of concentration finally broke as he smiled at the sound, you always had the most beautiful laugh and he was so happy he got to hear it again in person. In the time since you’re break up, on nights he couldn’t sleep, he would watch old videos he had taken of you just to hear your laugh after he told some stupid joke. It was during the nights that Jake missed you the most, when he was at his most vulnerable and the adrenaline from the day faded, leaving him with little to distract him from his thoughts. 

Which was how he found himself with a new woman in his bed almost every night, his reputation as a playboy developing out of a habit of not wanting to be alone. Of wanting something, or someone there to distract him. But even then it didn’t help, when the fun was over and the women were asleep his mind still drifted, memories of you at the forefront of every thought and how no one would ever compare to you. 

Jake had regretted breaking up with you every day of his life since he left, but Jake Seresin was nothing if not a proud man and refused to acknowledge the regret, instead burying it so deep inside himself that he came of as callous or cruel whenever someone mentioned your name and he simply dismissed it, moving the conversation on in such a manner that it made it seem like he regretted the relationship itself, though that was such a far cry from the truth. Each day he craved and yearned for you, but he was too proud to admit it. 

Too proud to admit he had made a mistake. Too proud to let anyone know that every night he lay awake and thought about having you in his arms once again, thinking about what would have happened if he had stayed. Would you have settled down by now? Would you be living the picket-fence dream that you have had since you were a child? You and him and a couple of little rugrats running around one of your family farms? He imagined it all in those sleepless nights, how much different life would have been and how much happier he could have been if he had just stayed. 

Jake says nothing as he finally manages to unscrew the lid of the water bottle and downs the entire bottle, it doesn’t sober him up completely but it makes the room stop spinning a little and it settles the nausea climbing up his throat. He wants to speak, wants to say anything just to have a conversation with you but a little voice in the back of his mind tells him he’s better staying quiet. Better not ruining a moment he may never experience again. Better off just basking in your presence in the car next to him. 

The silence between the two of you isn’t awkward like one would expect, it’s calm and serene as if you were simply two friends, maybe two lovers on a midnight drive just watching the lights of San Diego whizz by as you drive. But it had been a long time since the two of your were lovers, an even longer time since you were just friends, and a voice in the back of your mind reminds you not to get comfortable that when morning comes you would leave before he ever wakes up and that he probably won’t even remember anything, so there was no point in trying, no matter how desperately your heart was screaming at you that this was your chance to rekindle the love you once had for Jake. The love you truthfully still had for him if you were to be honest with yourself, but you were rarely honest with yourself when it came to your emotions. It was hard to be after locking them away for so long.

You arrive in Fightertown quite quickly, the streets of San Diego almost completely empty and letting you drive without having to stop, and you’re quick to follow street signs until you reach the street Coyote told you slowing down the car and looking at the house numbers as you drove past to make sure you were stopping at the right one. Though, you ended up not needing to use the numbers recognizing Jake’s pride and joy sitting in the driveway, the same old truck he got in high school that he meticulously maintained to this very day. 

You smile to yourself, pulling into the space behind it before turning to Jake, who was already staring at you with a small smile on his face and a wistful look in his eyes. It was a look you were all too familiar with, one you wore yourself countless times whenever anyone brought Jake up or when you visited home and you passed by Jake’s family ranch, his parents always wanted to see you but you always claimed you were busy.

It would have broken your heart to see them, they had been like family to you growing up and even more so when you and Jake got together with his mom and nana always insisting that they knew you and their Jake were gonna get married one day.  You had seen them once since the breakup, at your brother's wedding a year after you broke up and they insisted that their Jakey was still in love with you, that he always wrote to them and always always asked about you and how you were doing but that just tore your heart to shreds again after you had just started to piece it back together again. So you hadn't seen them since, it was selfish and you knew that, knew they missed you because your momma always let you know that they were asking about you and when you were gonna come see them, but you couldn’t put yourself through that pain again. 

You’re shaken from your thoughts by Jake's soft voice calling out the all too familiar nickname he had given you in high school, “Peaches?” You let out a shaky breath and blink away the tears starting to form your eyes as Jake reaches out to wipe them away before they fall, and gods do you wanna reach over and pull him into you. 

Hold him tight to your chest and never let him go again, kiss him again and again until your lips are totally and completely bruised because even drunk out of his mind he was still the most handsome man you had ever seen and his hands on your cheeks almost burned from the heat radiating of them and the blush quickly rushing over your cheeks. 

It was actually the first time he had really touched you since you met him at the bar, had fleetingly touched you to try and kiss you when you buckled him in but this was different. This was tender and soft as he wiped at your lash line as tears continued to fill your eyes despite your best attempts to keep them down. It reminded you of all the times Jake had held you while you went through law school with every breakdown and exam and rejection. It reminded you of when he loved you and that thought almost ripped your heart out because he didn’t love you, not anymore. He made that clear the day that he left.  

Jerking your head away from his hands, you rub at your eyes as you quickly climb out of your truck and take a few deep breaths before making your way over to Jakes to open the door, prepared to help him out but he manages by himself, only stumbling slightly as he starts towards his door. You were avoiding looking at him, so you miss the frown that has settled on his face, miss the heartbreak in his eyes at the fact that you had pulled away from him.  

You close the door to the jeep, locking it as you walk towards Jake who is fighting with his front door, trying and failing to insert the key into the door. The frown that was on his face had been replaced by a look of frustration with his eyebrows knitted together revealing the furrows that had formed on his forehead over time. Gently you reach out, taking the key from him and insert into the door and turning until you feel it unlock. You open the door and step back, letting Jake step into his home with you following behind and slipping your shoes off at the door. 

“Okay cowboy, let’s get you to bed.” You watch as Jake stumbles about a little, leaning against the walls for support as he slowly makes his way through the halls of his home with you following behind to make sure he didn’t truly fall and injure himself. After about a 5 minute struggle of stumbling and having to stop every second for Jake to lean against the wall to gain his bearings, you finally make it to his room where he flops down on the bed face first. 

You let out a small sigh and poke him on the back a few times, “C’mon you, you can’t sleep in your jeans.” With his face buried into the blanket, Jakes words are muffled and you can’t quite make them out but you were sure he was arguing with you so you just turn away from him and scan the room looking for a dresser. When your eyes land on them, you walk over and begin rifling through them to find a set of sweats and a t-shirt that he could throw on. 

You quickly find a shirt and move onto the last drawer of the dresser, as you pull it out you notice a photo wedged in between all the sweat pants in the drawer (seriously why did one man need so many sweatpants?). Part of you wants to ignore it but another part is filled to the brim with curiosity and you have an internal battle with yourself as to whether or not you should reach in and have a look. 

Ultimately your curiosity wins out and you finally realise why the saying is curiosity killed the cat, the photo is of you and Jake a week before your breakup at your sister's wedding. You looking stunning in your bridesmaid dress and Jake handsome as ever in his fresh pressed suit but where Jake would usually be wearing his cowboy hat, you had it on instead and you both had the widest grins on your face. Your eyes scanned the photo with a sombre smile as your heart constricts as what should have been one of the best weeks of your life, celebrating your sister and her new husband, quickly became your worst. 

Quickly, you shove the photo back into its place and pull out a pair of sweats while wiping the tears from your eyes. With sweats and shirt in hand you walk back over to the bed and poke Jake in the back once again, “I’m going to get you some water and advil for the morning. You better be changed by the time I get back.”  

The tone of your voice is one you usually reserve for clients, or your niece and nephew when you have to be strict with them, its one that demands respect and obedience and Jake lifts his head just enough for you to head a slurred “yes ma’am” pass his lips. You nod your head at the response and leave the room, giving Jake privacy to get changed, and head to the kitchen you passed on the way in. 

It was a mess, takeout wrappers were lying all over the counter and there were empty beer bottles on the small island, dishes were piled up everywhere and it shocked you. Jake was a clean man, the navy had drilled a certain level of cleanliness into him and even before that you knew his momma had drilled it into him. 

You quickly shake the shock out of your system with a shake of your head, it was not your problem. With a quick look through the various cupboards you find a clean glass and fill it almost all the way to the top with water, and quickly find a small drawer full of various medicine including advil which you pop 2 out of the packaging. 

Once you have everything you need, you make your way back to the bedroom and see Jake has managed to get himself out of his clothes but was struggling to get his sweats on, hopping about on one leg as he struggled to get the second leg in. You cock your head to the side slightly, looking at him with an amused smile as he continues to hop around for a few seconds before finally managing to get both legs into the sweats and pulling them onto his hips. Which you were glad for, because you were not prepared to help him get dressed.  

Jake plops himself back into bed, this time on his back, as you place the water and advil beside his alarm clock, making sure to keep your back to Jake as you did not want to see that lovestruck look he seemed to have since you picked him up. You also knew that if you turned round and acknowledge him, he would try and convince you to get into bed with him. To stay the night cuddled up in his arms, and while you missed cuddling up with Jake, this was not the time or place for you to do that. No, you were gonna stay on the sofa and leave in the morning. 

Quickly you turn away from Jake and leave his room, missing the pout on his lips and the way his hands reach out to you for a hug, closing the door behind you just enough that you couldn’t see him but would be able to hear him if he were to fall during the night. With a sigh, you settle down onto the couch for the night, not needing a blanket as the June heat continues into the night. Eventually, after hours of staring at Jake's ceiling you fall asleep to thoughts of how much you missed the blonde. 

---

With a groan, Jake slowly blinks awake. The small amount of light that filtered through his blackout curtains was proving to be too bright as it caused a surge of pain through his head. Which, by the way, felt like there was someone was power drilling into it. Slowly, so as to not provoke his hangover any further, Jake sits himself up in bed with his back against the headboard as he reaches to rub up at his eyes and search his memories for how the hell he got home last night.

Truly he couldn’t remember much after the 4th shot he had taken with Fanboy and Payback, which had been after god knows how many beers and at least 3 whiskeys on the rocks, he could vaguely remember Coyote helping him out the door about 2 hours after the shot, it had been his last drink with Coyote swapping out anything he ordered with a water, but Jake had been none the wiser meaning he was slightly more sober when Coyote was helping him, though his memories were still fuzzy. 

He could remember calling someone, the screen of his phone fuzzy in his memory and the conversation that was had on it completely gone from his mind. He remembered a truck with an apple tree on it and a figure with (texture) (colour) hair, it was weird, he was almost certain it had been you but it most definitely could not have been. 

You weren’t even in San Diego and even if you were, he was sure the number he had for you had been disconnected as he had tried phoning you multiple times since the breakup.  It must have been Phoenix who had got him, though that didn’t seem right when he thought it over. 

Finally pulling his hands away from his eyes, Jake looks to his bedside locker to take in the time and he groans as the digital clock reads 14:00. God he had slept late, the first time since he was a kid, having grown up on the family ranch Jake was always up at 6am almost every morning since he was 10 years old and could go out and help his dad, a habitat which came in handy when adjusting to the military schedule. 

Eyes moving past the clock, Jake clocks a bottle of water and two advil sitting beside it, which didn’t exactly scream Phoenix to him. The girl would relish in the fact that Jake was massively hungover, so maybe Coyote had left it for him. Jake quickly takes the pain killers and downs the whole bottle of water, sitting for a minute with his eyes closed and leaning against the headboard to let the medicine start to take effect. 

Though he was trying to stay in bed until the medicine took effect, the sound of movement in his kitchen puts him on alert. Who would be in his home? Coyote? No, Coyote would have texted him that he was coming over. Rooster? Nah, he was 100% sleeping off his own hangover or spending the day with Angel. 

Gently, Jake slips from the bed and for the first time he notices he’s been changed into a pair of black sweats and an old t-shirt and he scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. He didn’t remember getting changed, still trying to fight to gain the memories of how he got home, and so he hoped that he did it himself not wanting to be embarrassed to find one of his friends had to strip him down out of his jeans and shirt.  

Moving on from his confusion, Jake slowly makes his way out of his room, trying his best to be quiet so as to not spook whoever was moving about the kitchen. As he steps into the kitchen, Jake comes to a standstill and he begins to think he was still drunk or maybe he was high, or just hallucinating due to a combination of sleep deprivation and his hangover. Because here you are, flitting about his kitchen, which was definitely cleaner than when he left the night before.

As you turn towards Jake, you jump and place a hand over your heart to try and stop the rapid beating because, despite it being his apartment, you were not expecting him to be standing behind you looking like he had seen a ghost. 

“Fucking christ Jake!” The shock of the scare finally settles, though the beating of your heart doesn’t. If anything it increased under the intensity of Jake's gaze. It had been a long time since anyone had made your heart beat like this, with such intensity and strength that it felt like it could break your ribs and rip itself out of your chest. In fact, there was only ever one person that made your heart beat like that and he was standing in front of you.  

From the look of confusion on Jake's face you gather that he didn’t remember much of last night, didn’t remember calling you or you picking him up to bring him home and you couldn’t really blame him for not remembering with the amount he had drank, according to the messages you had exchanged with Coyote on your old cell. 

Jake stares at you, his hangover pushed to the back of his mind, leaning against the counter of his kitchen with your arms crossed against your chest and your eyes cast to the ground, avoiding looking at Jake. Jake thought he would never see you again, that you had disappeared from his life forever when you broke up five years ago but here you are. What shocked him even more was the fact that it was you last night, you had come and picked him up and made sure he had gotten home safely, looked like you had stayed the night as well if the dishevelled sofa was any indication. Probably to make sure nothing happened to him in his sleep.  

“You came?” 

You finally look up at Jake, a soft smile on your face and he could melt into the ground at the softness in your eyes. You should hate him, should absolutely despise him, he wouldn’t blame you. He knows he gave you a million and one reasons too when he left, when he broke your heart and left you crying in the corner booth of the cafe. You should hate him, he broke your heart into a million pieces and left the country like a coward while you had to stay in your shared apartment, with your shared friends, in a city you saw yourself settling down with him in and piece yourself back together by yourself. He hated himself for that. 

---

He had asked you to meet him in the little café that was a 20 minute walk from your old highschool that had been opened by one of your highschool friends, you had promised to always drop in when you were in town and had been there quite a few times already since arriving only a week earlier. But he hadn’t been in it since that day, he was sure he would have hot coffee thrown in his face if he dared show his face. 

As usual, the two of you were nestled into the booth in the furthest corner of the cafe, just hidden enough that nobody could see the two of you but you could still see everybody bustling about. It was the perfect spot for people watching, which you usually did, pointing out people you once knew and discussing the latest in their lives (whether or not any of it was true was beside the point), but that day was different. Jake held a tension in his body, one you hadn’t seen before. One that quite frequently scared you, it put you on edge as if one wrong word and Jake would explode. It was like he was teetering on the edge. 

The silence was stiff and thick with the same tension Jake held in his body, it felt suffocating and the air around you felt like it was compressing your chest. Until it was shattered and suddenly it wasn’t the air stopping you from breathing properly but panic as Jake uttered the words you never wanted to hear. 

“I think we should break up.” 

You drop your cup on the table, thankfully it was nearly empty so there wasn’t much of a splash back as the ceramic collided with the table and shattered into thousands of pieces on the table. You were sure that if someone looked at your heart at the very moment, it would be in a similar state. Shattered beyond repair. 

“W-w-what?” You can hardly hear your own voice from the way your heart is thundering in your ears, can barely see the ceramic pieces that have fallen onto your lap as the tears begin to fill your lash line and threaten to ruin your mascara.  

You certainly can’t see the twitch of Jake's jaw and how his eyes are cast out the window of the café avoiding looking at you, afraid that if he did he wouldn’t be able to do this. You don’t see the way he picks at his nail beds or how his adam’s ` apple bobs as he tries to keep his composure and convince himself that this was for the best, that its better for you if he was out of your life. If he broke your heart so you would never think of him again, so you could let him go. 

You want to turn to face him, want to look into his eyes as he does this. But you can’t, your eyes are glued to the space in front of you, pupils wide and mouth open in shock. “I-is there someone else?” The thought absolutely destroyed you, that Jake was cheating on you that he found someone else. You close your eyes so tight that it hurts at the thought, preparing for the impact that yes there was someone else. But what came was so so much worse. 

“There’s no one else. I just don’t love you anymore.” A sob racks through your body and pushes through your lips as the tears that had gathered in your eyes finally springing free and streaking down your face rapidly. Jake closes his eyes at the sound and clenches his fists, each sob you let out breaking his resolve. He needed out. Needed to go before he fully broke. It was better this way. 

So he does. He gets up from the booth and leaves the cafe, not looking back at your shaking form as your friend approached having heard the shattering of the ceramic. It was better this way. Jake would rather you hate him for the rest of your life than you be left heartbroken because he was never coming home. 

---

“You called” 

Your voice is soft as you stop in front of him, your arms still crossed against your chest, and you look up at him through your eyelashes. Jake’s are filled with shock, as if he can’t believe you’re really standing in front of him. 

“Why?”

“I guess I’m just a sucker for torturing myself.” 

Jake wants to reach for you, to pull you into him and hold you for the first time in 5 years. Wants to wrap his arms around you and never let you go again. But he doesn’t, instead he stays glued to the spot, mouth opening and closing as he tries to form some kind of coherent thought or sentence. 

“H-How?” Jake mentally slaps himself, of course he knew how he had phoned you. But, the number he had for you was disconnected. He knew this because he sent you message after message only for them to not be delivered and he had called for it to go straight to voicemail, he shouldn’t have been able to reach you. 

“I broke my phone and had to pull out my old phone while it’s getting repaired. It was pure luck that it happened now.” 

Jake feels himself nodding along dumly, that made sense, if you had changed phones and left the other one to die and only be used as a backup then of course none of his messages went through, of course none of his calls went through. Jake clears his throat, the ability to think and speak finally returning to him as the shock of seeing you finally settles. 

“What are you still doing here?” 

You shrug your shoulders gently, eyes moving around the now spotless kitchen and the tidy living room, “Wanted to make sure you were okay. That you didn’t choke on your own tongue or anything. I woke up at about 11ish and was going to go home, but I…I couldn’t make myself do it. Was still worried about you so I kept myself busy as you can probably see.”

Jake's eyes move over the kitchen, you always had been an anxious cleaner and if the cleanliness of his kitchen was any indication you were plenty nervous. Though he wasn’t sure if you were anxious about being around him or because you were concerned for his well being.

“I should go now though, I have client meetings later.” 

You go to move around Jake, but he follows your movements and holds his hands up in front of him to stop you. 

“Let me get us lunch as a thank you for looking after me.”

You really shouldn’t, should get going so you can shower and get changed for heading into the office. Should leave and never look back. Shouldn’t let Jake Seresin back into your life. And yet, you just nod your head and tell him “okay”. 

 ---

You sit in a semi awkward silence as you wait for the lunch to arrive, the air is thick with tension and unanswered questions. Jake had a million and one he wanted to ask you about your life, about how much had changed in the past 5 years, about your family, about everything and anything under the sun just to talk to you. You had one question and one question only. 

“Why did you do it?” 

Your voice is soft as you play with the ends of your (Jake's) jumper, eyes cast down to look at what your hands were doing rather than what Jake was doing. 

“Do what?”  You can hear the genuine confusion in his voice and can imagine the way his eyebrows would be all scrunched up as he thought about all the things he did. 

“Tell me you didn’t love me anymore.” 

“It wasn’t true.” Your eyes snap to Jake, watching as he picks at his nail bed and avoids looking at you, and you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion. “What?”

“It wasn’t true. What I said that day.” Jake clears his throat as the words get caught, “I-I lied. I thought it would be easier.” 

You can feel anger rising in you now, disbelief settling in as you raise your eyebrows at Jake. “Fucking easier?” Jake flinches at the harshness in your voice, sinking back against his sofa, as you stand and cross your arms over your chest, scoffing at his comment that it was easier.  

“You broke me Jake. I was depressed for months, had to take time off work because I just could not function enough to get myself out of bed. Desi and Cori were so concerned about me that they alternated staying with me because they were scared for my well being. I stopped eating and ended up in hospital. You think it was fucking easier to tell me you didn’t love me?” 

Jake looks up at you shocked, eyes wide and mouth hanging open slightly, he didn’t realise how much you suffered when he broke up. You were always so strong that he expected you to pick yourself up and go on with life, never realising just how broken he had made you. He gulps down his shock, instead opting to finally tell you the truth as to why he left. 

“I thought it would be easier for you to hate me. I watched wives and partners destroyed with the news that their husbands weren’t coming home and I was being sent away on a mission where there was no guarantee that I would come home. I didn’t want that for you. I didn’t want you to have to bury me.” 

 The anger inside you fades away slowly as you take in his words. He didn’t want you to bury him. You had never thought of that, sure you worried when he went on missions but you stressed about his safety but never once did you consider that he might not come home. Maybe that was idealistic of you, maybe some part of you refused to acknowledge the fact that Jake might not come home to keep you safe, to protect your heart. 

But still a part of the anger remains as you grit your teeth together, “That was not your decision to make Seresin.” 

Jake flinches at your use of his last name and sighs lightly and rubs at his face lightly, “I know I know…I…” He lets out a sigh and reaches out to take your hands into his, rubbing his fingers over his knuckles. “I was stupid and naïve. I thought it would be easier for us both if I just left. You could hate me for the rest of time and I would eventually get over you.” 

Your gaze is harsh, eyes narrowed into a small glare that was slowly softening at every word. 

“But god are you hard to get over, I still think of you…Like every day. I think, hey (Y/N) would love this when I see something I know you’d like. I think about telling you about my day, about how you’re doing and if you ever got that promotion. I dream about settling down with you. About taking over my farm or the orchard with you. About having a family with you. When I’m flying, I think about you. About your smile, about how your eyes light up when you’re talking about something you're passionate about. It grounds me, keeps me level headed because some part of my mind is still telling me I need to make it back alive…that I need to make it back to you.” 

Tears start to gather in your eyes at the confession, and you bite down on your lip as you take a second to compose your own thoughts. You thought about him too, all the time, even when you shouldn’t be. 

“It was stupid.” Jake chuckles at your bluntness but as he looks into your eyes he sees no malice or cruelty behind the words, the glare you previously wore not gone from your gaze. Instead there was a lingering sadness, a pain that seeped into his bones as you stared at him. 

“And it was mean and callous and cruel, and I should hate you Jake Serein. With every fibre in my body I should despise you. But…I…I just can’t.” You let out a shaky breath, a few tears now falling from your eyes, “God I wish I could hate you. It would make my life so much easier, would make it so much easier to just move on with my life. But…but part of me still loves you. Still wants you. Still thinks about you, every goddamn day.” 

Jake stands, he wants to pull you into him and kiss you until the sun goes down and he would have, had the front door not gone with the delivery driver standing outside with your lunch. Instead, Jake hangs his head and lets out a sigh before lifting your hand to his and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. 

---

Lunch is quickly eaten and, needing some air, you suggest going for a walk in the neighbourhood after you cancelled all your afternoon appointments citing you were feeling unwell and didn’t want to pass it on, as partner no one really questioned you. The walk is nice and you feel nostalgic. Though the warning bells are going off in your mind telling you to walk away, that nothing good can come out of this. That, despite the fact you had forgiven Jake for what happened, you didn’t know if you were ready for this again. But those warning bells are drowned out by the sound of your beating heart rushing in your ears, encouraging you to give in to your desires for once, to give in to the feeling of once again being loved by Jake. 

You walk for hours, the confessions earlier in the day opening you up to talking like old friends would, the vulnerability you both showed letting you open up to once another once again. Catching up on the intricacies of each others lives that you had missed, you let Jake know you were now an aunt to a darling little niece called Adeline and a menace of a nephew Carson who wanted nothing more than to help his mom and dad in the orchard and loved to climb trees to do this, almost giving your sister a heart attack in the process, and Jake lets you know that his baby sister is engaged to her high school sweetheart who was now teaching at the school with a wedding due in September time so they avoid the scorching summer heats. 

You tell him about making partner at your firm and being relocated to run the San Diego office and he is so so proud of you and how far you’ve come. He tells you all about the dagger squad and how much he’s loving being in San Diego but misses home and can’t wait to get home in a few weeks time for the wedding, which he has a plus one for by the way. 

It’s like old times, you fall into the conversation with such ease it was like you were never separated. Like you were never angry at him. 

By the time sunset arrives, you and Jake are standing side by side on the beach admiring the changing of colours in the sky when suddenly the colours of the sky are blocked out by the figure of the tall blonde. Both your confessions from earlier still hang in the air, seeing as you were interrupted by the delivery driver at the door and you avoided the conversation your entire walk, finding something new to talk about whenever a silence fell between the two of you to avoid it coming. 

Because, frankly, you were terrified. It had been such a long time since you had let yourself be so emotionally vulnerable and that was scary, you were scared of Jake was going to react, despite practically ripping his heart out and placing it in your hands himself.  

You raise an eyebrow as your heart begins to pound in your heart, Jake looked serious and his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he tried to think of what he wanted to say, didn’t know how much more he could say after spilling his heart out. 

“Can we- can we try again?” Though that wasn’t exactly the words Jake wanted, the words having been already spoken earlier, his voice is soft as he reaches out to you, hand moving gently up your neck to cup your jaw with his thumb rubbing soft circles on your cheeks. You lean into the touch, against your better judgement, and let your eyes flutter close your own hands reaching out to touch Jake.  

You wanted to, god did you want to give Jake another chance, but again the alarm bells were firing of in your head and this time they were hard to ignore. They were reminding you that Jake was still enlisted, he could be shipped off again to god knows where and you wouldn’t be able to follow, he might not come home, he might not come home and you didn’t know if you could survive that. 

“I’m scared Jake.” You let out a shuddering breath, eyes opening to look into Jake’s. There was nothing but gentleness and love reflected back at you, and god how you missed looking into his eyes. Missed the tender moments where you would just hold one another and bask in each other’s presence, enjoying gentle caresses and fleeting touches used to ground one another. “I…can’t…I can’t do that again. I can’t go back to that dark place” Your eyes fall to where your hands are placed on Jakes chest, the temptation to draw them back and retreat flowing through your mind. 

Your voice is rough and breaking as your eyes gloss over with tears at the thought of him breaking your heart again, at the thought of him leaving, of him dying, and he couldn’t blame your mistrust. Couldn’t blame your fear. A second hand is quickly up and cupping your jaw, fingers now wiping away the tears forming in your eyes. 

“You won’t have to. I’m permanently stationed at top gun, training as part of the dagger squad and instructing.” You sniffle a little and look back up at Jakes face, “And if it means getting to be with you again I will give up dagger squad. I’ll go to instructing full time. I’ll stop flying.” 

You roll your eyes at him, “You could never give up flying Jake, it’s your life.” 

“I would give it up for you (Y/N).” You can see the sincerity in his eyes, the truthfulness there. He would genuinely give up flying if you asked him, and though you never would, knowing he was that dedicated to having you back ebbed your fears a little, though they were never fully away. It would take a while for that to happen. But you could feel your resolve break, every fibre in your being that was screaming for you to say no drowned out by the beating of your heart that was screaming at you to say yes. 

“Okay. One date.” 

Jake’s lips stretch into a cheshire cat grin and you roll your eyes at him once again, shoving him gently away from your body, “One Seresin, and we’ll see where we go from there.” 

“Oh Peaches, one date is all I need.”  

#top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick x yn #top gun maverick x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x yn #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x yn #top gun maverick angst #top gun maverick hurt comfort #jake seresin angst #jake seresin hurt comfort #tw.alcohol #tw.drinking #tw.drunkeness #tw.being drunk #tw.angst #tw.depression #tw.depressive episode #august.writes

[kakushino]

Who I am - What I feel - How I feel

Tw: depression, passive suicidal thoughts, gore imaginery

This is something very personal to me. I have been struggling with mental health problems for years until it all came to a head two years ago. I've been on medication since then, and am able to somewhat manage the symptoms.

This is not a call for help, nor do I want pity. This is simply how it is for me during my episodes of depression, which still do happen. Everyone experiences it differently, this is just my version.

I like to say "It is what it is," because there is no other way for me to be.

The 'he' is my comfort character. I've never been comforted during my lows, but I wanted to be, once upon a time. I don't think I'd be able to handle it now.

At times, I felt unworthy.

The warmth inside of me didn’t feel natural. It didn’t feel like my organs worked to keep me alive with each breath, each beat of the heart; instead it felt like rot, like decay of my flesh from the inside out. 

It felt like I couldn’t breathe too deep for the fear of ripping myself apart. 

I curled closer around the blanket, it serving as a substitute for someone, anyone, who could hold me in this time. 

I felt alone, lonely.

I’ve been laying in the bed since morning, it was dark outside now.

I didn’t move except to roll over to the other side or check my phone for notifications. There were none.

I didn’t know if I could handle any notification either.

I didn’t know if I could handle any one person seeing me like this. Maybe I could, but I wouldn’t want to talk to them; I just wanted quiet and I wanted this to end - I wanted this feeling to end.

My mouth was dry, I didn't feel any hunger, I shouldn’t feel any hunger.

Why was I taking up space?

Why was I even… alive?

I knew deep down that I was too much of a coward to do anything about it though. There was simply no will; there was apathy and the sickly and wrong warmth of a slowly-rotting body on a too hot and too cold bed at the same time.

The oversized t-shirt felt too rough on my skin. The mattress was too soft, too hard, too much. The blanket I was hugging was too warm, too-

I was too much and not enough at the same time.

A teacup cracked and spilling everything it was supposed to hold. A useless teacup. A teacup that should not be.

The door opened.

“I’m home.”

Fuck.

He shouldn’t be home now. I should get up. I should go greet him as I always do.

“Dear?”

Move. Get up.

His steps came too close and I knew he saw me. I tried not to move, imitating sleep.

"I know you aren't sleeping."

I exhaled softly and hummed. 

"Is it one of those days?"

Warm hand touched my shoulder, but stayed there. I was grateful for that, anything more intimate would make me cringe and feel like I'm tainting him with myself, with my filth.

I couldn't handle touch at all right that moment.

"What do you need?"

The softness of his voice created a lump in my throat; my breath hitched, moisture gathering in my eyes. I couldn't answer. The only reaction I could give was my ragged breathing, suddenly too emotional, when before, I was just a sludge of apathy.

His hand disappeared, and he walked away.

I suppressed a sob, tears slipping one by one. 

Did I want him close? Or did I need to be alone?

I didn't know.

I felt so fucking guilty.

He didn't deserve this. He deserved someone who could support him always, who would love him with everything they have - not a walking corpse, spreading ruin to all she touched.

I heard the shower running for a time, laying there, crying, gasping for breath.

When it shut off, I shut off myself too. He didn't need to see this pathetic thing I was. 

I calmed down my breathing while he rummaged in the kitchen. My stomach hurt a little, reminding me I didn't eat all day, nor did I drink anything.

I was too tired to get up.

I would just eat something tomorrow.

It wasn't like I deserved to eat anyway.

His steps neared me again. The bed dipped. He set something on the night table and then I felt his warm hand again, turning me over. I rolled onto my back, but I was too ashamed to look him in the eye, staring at his clavicle instead.

"Are you with me?"

I blinked. "Yeah," I whispered, voice breaking. It echoed strangely. I should have stayed quiet, my presence was too disturbing, too wrong.

"Did you take your pills this morning?"

I couldn't remember.

I'm sorry, I wanted to say. I shouldn't be your burden to bear. I shouldn't be.

Rough calluses scraped against the skin of my cheek. A thumb swept over my lips, making me open them instinctively.

A sigh. 

I closed my eyes. I wouldn't be able to watch his pity.

He helped me sit. Embarrassment flooded me.

The crinkle of pill platter.

I'm just a burden, aren't I?

Two pills were pressed past my lips; then a glass with water.

His thumb traced my lips again, collecting the drop of water stuck there. 

I still couldn't open my eyes. I still felt too hot and too wrong. I still felt rotten and rotting.

"Let's get something in you."

He hand-fed me, piece by piece. Sweet grapes, my favorite snack. We didn't have those yesterday.

It felt too much.

Tears fell one by one, and he hugged me, he pulled me to lay in his embrace, not speaking and not judging.

I snuggled close to his warmth, exhaustion weighing down my muscles, my bones, my soul. Each breath felt like a chore, empty and not refreshing at all. 

But it was a breath.

I didn't know if I needed this or if I needed something else, but it was what was given, and I couldn't do anything about that. I didn't deserve it, but I was going to take it anyway. 

Like a little thief.

#tw.depression

[purplecatthirst]

10 Follower Special: The First Meeting (nsfw)

I mentioned that the 10 follower post was going to be SFW, and for that I am sorry, I'm marking it NSFW just in case.

This was requested by one of my fine followers over DM, I thought about it for a while and figured I just had to oblige.

I actually don't have a headcanon for how Mewtwo met his beloved human. So instead I've workshopped a couple of scenarios that I think make sense.

Content Warning: Blood, Injuries, Depression, Mentions of suicide, general angst.

First things first. You are not a trainer that beat and captured him in the Cerulean Caves. That would earn his obedience and, just maybe, his respect. But not his love. when fates aligned so that you two did meet, you left an impression on him. It might not have been love, not at first, but you made emotions well in him that he was unaware he could even feel. I've drafted up 3 possible scenarios, I'll keep some of the details vague, so you can fill in the gaps yourself.

An Unexpected Rescue

While in the woods, you spot an injured Vulpix, they are wounded and bleeding. And being chased by a couple of Weville's, their natural predators.

You spring into action with little thought, scooping up the injured Pokemon, before trying to flee to safety.

The pair of Weville's aren't far behind you. They don't usually attack humans, but you stand between them and their prey. You are nearly cut to ribbons by the hungry pokemon's sharp claws.

You clutch the Vulpix to your chest, trying to protect it. Your vision getting blurry as you start to feel cold, quickly losing blood. You were stupid to do this, but you had to. You couldn't let this lost kit suffer.

Unbeknownst to you, Mewtwo hovered nearby, watching. Why weren't you throwing out your own Pokemon? Why were you letting these two Wevilles kill you?

It only takes a couple of more moments for him to realize that you DONT have any Pokemon. Either you never had any at all, or you didn't have them with you. He huffs, "Silly human."

Well, he can't just there and just let you die. He descends, sending both Wevilles scurrying with a well timed move.

You see him descend, and trivally fights off the predatory pokemon, before turning and looking at you. You weakly look up at him, unsure of what he is. Hugging the scared, injured Vulpix to your chest to try and protect it, in case he was another predator.

Seeing you throw yourself into mortal danger for a wild pokemon, with no way to defend yourself. It almost makes him laugh. Your either very brave or very stupid. But he can't help but be touched and impressed, as he uses the items in your bag to patch your and the Vulpix's wounds.

It's been so long since he's talked to anyone.... You seem nice enough, for a human. It might be nice to exchange some words with you.

To Protect The Innocent

Ever since your first run in with Team Rocket, you have sworn yourself to opposing them at every turn, for one reason for another. You've saved a lot of Pokemon, a lot of people. You are something of a local hero.

This has, as expected, put you in a lot of danger. Things have more then once escalated from Pokemon battles to hand to hand brawls to having to take cover from gunfire. You have some scars to your name as a result.

You hear that they are moving something BIG, that Giovanni was going to be making a move to try and capture a Legendary. No matter what specific Pokemon it was, that much power in the hand of a madman. You inform Officer Jenny, and the two of you move to stop his dastardly plan. Maybe you have your own small adventuring party, Just like Ash and his friends.

By the time you arrive, Things have already begun. Your not sure WHAT your really looking at, deep in the Cerulean Caves, but it's surrounded by grunts and their mons, attack from all angles. This is not a battle, this is a hunt. One that the psychic type pokemon was slowly losing. They came prepared.

After sending you and Jenny send your own Pokemon out, you manage to turn the tide, you and Jenny both knocking a few heads yourself.

The cat-like legendary is hurt bad by the time everything is said and done. But alive, and uncaptured. Goons and fainted Pokemon liter the cave floor.

You act Quickly to patch up the wounds on Mewtwo, using potions and banadges, while Jenny rounds up the criminals. He pulls away from your touch. He's confused, a rarity for him. Did you know he was down here? He know's Jenny's place as a police officer, but you are a mystery to him. Most people don't so openly oppose team rocket.

You talk some as you both rest. You explain who you are and the vendetta you have against Team Rocket.

You don't really notice, but his lips twitch up in a half smile. A human who stands up against the cruel actors of the world. And who's not afraid to get their own hands dirty, fighting right alongside their companions...

That's someone he can respect. He will be keeping a close eye on you....

Finger on The Eject Button

You are a broken person. Tragedy after tragedy has eaten away at you. You are tired, tired of the barren wasteland of this reality. I will leave the exact details up to you. You are helpless, scared, and just so, so tired.

You decide it's finally time. You've thought about it plenty, maybe for years. But something happens, and you break. This is the end.

You travel into the Cerulean Caves, somewhere deep and dark where you won't leave a mess for people to clean up. You sit, pulling out a small syringe full of dark liquid. Seviper venom. More then a lethal dose. You might get a stomach ache, but then you will slowly drift off. It's clean, near painless, and guaranteed. You spent what little money you had left on it.

You hesitate, a natural reaction, knowing what's to come. Your thumb slowly over the plunger, needle hovering over your skin. Your breath quickens. Your finger is on the button, you just need to give it a push.

Mewtwo watches you from a distance, at first completely unsure of what you are up to, travelling so deep into the cave, so late at night, with no Pokemon. It's a miracle you've made it here without any trouble.

His confusion only grows more as he sees you pull out the needle. At this point he is curious of the human who stumbled into his lair, seemingly obliviously. He peers into your mind to try and see just hat your doing here...

His stomach flips as he realizes what your about to do. He's not sure what he should do. He shouldn't care about you, your a single human. While he no longer harbors an all consuming grudge, a single human life is not something he would normally worry over.

But seeing you there, so vulnerable. So broken and damaged by the world that this is the only real option you see as being viable. It brings out some kind of new emotion in him. Something protective. You remind him of himself, on his darkest days. Cursing his existence. It's horrible. Something he wants nobody to go through, not even a random human.

He does the only thing he can think of, revealing himself, softly talking to you. 'Human. You seem like you could use someone to talk to.'

His surprise introduction, soft as it might have been, was enough to startle you. You gasp as he introduces himself. Kneeling down to meet you at eye level. After calming down, you talk for a while. He can't help but feel some sort of affinity to you. Two broken souls who's shards fit together to create something whole....

woah shit. I just sat down for 2 hours and just HAMMERED that one out. Sorry if it seems odd or angsty, I don't really care for "Mewtwo falls in love with his trainer" type of stories. Anyway, these are only some of the ideas I had. Like I mentioned before, I don't normally think on this topic, so it took me a minute.

Please, let me know what you enjoyed!

#mewtwo x reader #nsft #angst #cw.blood #tw.suicide #tw.depression #bullet point rambles #gn!reader

[satanic-foxhole-court]

Depression Andrew

Andrew and Neil have graduated, living together with their cats and Neil gets yoinked away for a few weeks.

The quiet, bone deep, too tired to do much depression creeps in and o Andrews mind. He goes through the motions and keeping routine as if that’ll help. One day, after a long busy day, he gets as far as taking off his boots on the floor and just… lays on his side, for hours.

Barely there.

Barely feeling.

Feeling his body go utterly limp, mind stuck in a fog.

The cats don’t help, well the beg for an early dinner but he barely has the energy to crawl. Sure, once he’s back on his feet it’ll be easier again, but the mental effort to do so? Not there.

It’s hard to survive the very thing you live in.

He’s forgotten why it’s all worth it, why it’s any use to keep getting out of bed when at the end of the day he just keeps feeling like this.

There’s no fixing this, no junkie to drag him out, no fluff or saviour.

It takes hours, eventually he crawls to feed the cats, arm bands, sweats and his shirt coated in cat hair by then end. White knuckling his way to standing to heat up a freezer meal, tastes like he has a third of his tastebuds but food is food.

It’ll happen again, go to sleep, barely sleep, wake up and start it all again. Time to make a doctors appointment and up his meds, maybe it’ll end soon.

#tw depression #tw dissociation #tw.depression #tw.dissociation #andrew minyard #aftg #neil josten #tfc #all for the game #the foxhole court #depression!andrew minyard

[beautifulxdamned]

Wait is that (NEVEAH QUINN) that I see off in the distance? You know they have quite the reputation of being the (SPITFIRE) around the island, but to me they seem like any other (LOCAL). I hear you can often find the (24) year old hanging around (DRIFTWOOD SANDS) or catch them when they aren’t busy working as a/an (BARISTA AT COSTAL COFFEE COMPANY, BARTENDER AT WHITE ROCK BREWPUB, SALES ASSOCIATE AT NOMADS SURF SHOP ). They may seem (THRIFTY & PENSIVE) but I hear that they can also be (GULLIBLE & EVASIVE). There may be a lot of faces here in the bay, but you’ll know who you’re dealing with if they remind you of (WORN OUT CONVERSE, SPIRITED DEBATES, FLIPPING OFF THE CAMERA & POST IT NOTES COVERED IN DOODLES OR REMINDERS) [Brittany O'grady, Cisfemale, She/Her]

QUICK STATS

Full Name: Neveah Adelle Quinn Nickname(s): Eve & Nevvy DOB / Zodiac: January 10th 1999 / Capricorn Orientation: Pansexual Hometown: Celestial Bay, North Carolina Positive Traits: Thrifty, Pensive & Intelligent Negative Traits: Gullible, Evasive & Intrusive Languages: English

BACKGROUND

tw: pregnancy, abortion, drugs, alcohol, depression, neglect

Neveah was an unplanned pregnancy. Conceived by her mother, a fourth generation Celestial Bay townie and her father, a vacationer who had decided to take an impromptu summer trip to the beautiful coast. The two had hit it off instantly and within a month he had convinced the women who had never seen anything other than the Bay that he was going to whisk her away, take her to the big city with him when he returned home... only that never happened.

Three weeks after his departure she had found out that she was pregnant with Neveah. She opted into keeping the baby and although she swears that Neveah's father was aware of her existence the girl had always had a suspicion, perhaps a glimmer of hope, that he was unaware. If he was unaware of her birth than he hadn't made an active decision to abandon her and that made the idea easier to handle in her mind.

Her mother gave Neveah her fathers last name, despite the man being a virtual stranger to the child. She claimed that it would provide her with more opportunities in life... Neveah believed that it was a last ditch effort to grab the mans attention, with hopes of the man whisking her and her daughter away to greener pastures.

However that never happened and the women made do with what she had to provide a decent life for her child. It was a happy childhood from what little Neveah could remember, however the year of her thirteenth birthday things took a devastating turn.

Her mother fell into a dark depression, perhaps it had always been looming on the edge. The women turned to prescription pills and alcohol as a coping mechanism. She lost her job and and rarely came out of her room unless it was to retrieve another bottle of something or another, leaving her thirteen year old to not only raise herself but to also support her mother.

She started to work multiple jobs. Neighbors who felt bad for the girl giving her odd things to do here and there to keep a roof above their heads and food in their stomachs. By the age of seventeen she was spreading herself to thin. While her friends were attending parties and enjoying their last years of high school, planning for their future she was struggling working for jobs, fighting with bill collectors and still attempting to excel at school, after all a scholarship was her only hope of escaping this place.

Finally in her Senior year, despite being incredibly intelligent she found herself dropping out of high school, she simply couldn't juggle it all anymore and with the state her mother had fallen into over the years the option to leave even if she had secured a scholarship was void.

She threw herself into work and taking care of her mother. Distancing herself from her friends, not like they had much in common anymore anyways, and fell into a lonely routine.

Perhaps that was the reason it was so easy for the vacationer to woo her at the age of twenty-two. Sending her into the same foggy haze her mother had endured all those years ago. Although Neveah was smitten with the man she never once believed that they would wind up together. He was a fun fling, something to take the edge off for the summer.

A rule of thumb in Neveah's life though was if something could go wrong than it was bound to and oh boy did it. In her careless moment of living her own life she had gotten knocked up. She had struggled with what to do. Did she tell the father? Would it even make a difference? He was set to leave the island in two weeks, more than likely never to be seen again. She decided to tell him, quickly following the confession with her plan to get an abortion. It wasn't necessarily a decision that she was happy about but she knew that her plate was already full and she wasn't about to have her own child suffer the same fate she had. The father agreed with her and as she had expected he left in two weeks time, never to be heard from again. She scheduled the abortion shortly after his departure.

She threw herself back into her work, determined never to speak of her stupidity again. However she did allow herself to have a little fun between the mountains of work that she was doing, if only to prevent such a thing from happening again.

EXTRAS

Neveah is extremally intelligent. She enjoys literature and strategy based games along with debating people even if they don't want to be in a debate.

She also extremally artistic. She enjoys listening to and analyzing music. She's taught herself both guitar and piano simply from listening to music notes. She also enjoys drawing and painting. People say that she has the potential to thrive if only her wings hadn't been clipped at such a young age.

She knows how to have a good time but she's definitely the mom friend. Perhaps it's due to the fact she's been caring for others since she was still a child herself.

She holds a sense of entitlement about herself. She often finds herself crossing lines that perhaps other locals wouldn't. Inviting herself to Vacationer exclusive events because deep down she feels like it's her rightful place, one she was robbed of... her father was one of them after all.

Connections ○ Pinterest ○ Playlist ○ Musings ○ Threads

#(It's Time To Split The Things I Do From What I Used To Do |○| Neveah Quinn Past Reflection) #tw.pregnancy #tw.abortion #tw.drugs #tw.alcohol #tw.neglect #tw.depression

[azurexsnake]

Vluesh thing that Vash is always very aware of me when period days start rolling around. Cuz, it’s not always, but there’s sometimes just that one day where something will set off and I’ll desperation spiral immediately.

He keeps that close eye so he can quickly tuck me away and keep me held against him. Just closes me up in his jacket without saying anything. Or wraps me up in his wing when we’re alone. Pets my hair and tells me it’s alright. He’s always going to make sure it’s alright for me.

#was that happening last night? #yes #I actually drafted this then but I didn’t end up posting it #and now I’m gonna cuz I feel better #mostly #tw.period #tw.depression #tw.mental health #color: blue 🎨 #vluesh 💟☮️

[atinyladybug-daydreams]

Haha depression do be grabbing me by the dick. Brain fuzzy

#Alt vents #Alt draws #tw.epilepsy #tw.rapid movement #tw.depression #tw.fast imagery #tw.shakey image

[hotchnerxo]

Im so confused and overwhelmed by some friends rn

Feel free to skip this ( I dont know how to add the 'read more' thingy on my phone, my apologiez)

1. Few weeks before my birthday in early december, I told my friends that I usually hate my birthdays and therefore dont have any plans for that day. Just treat it like any other day. They made a big deal about it and wanted me to make plans with them and drink with them, play games etc etc. (Online friends) We talked about it couple of times before the day came, everyone still on board for a game night. On my birthday, I got no message from anyone. Nor the day after. Nor the day after that. Nothing. I, once again, was dissapointed on my birthday and want to celebrate it even less.

2. I heard nothing from them on christmas either. Nor new year for that matter. I reached out multiple times and if I was lucky, I got a reply days later. Saying that they're busy with family and friends etc. Dont get me wrong, I definitely understand, holidays are busy. But what I do see is that on discord it says that they've been playing minecraft for 8hours, three days in a row.

3. I talked to them about this, that I get it that people get busy, but please let me know if you cant make it to something we've planned etc. and that I'd appreciate still being included in things, and escpecially now that Im mentally struggling a lot. They tell me that I expect too much and cant expect them to reach out to me all the time ( even if it's me reaching out to them 85% of the time).

4. I've been there for them thru thick and thin, but now Im too needy for needing some reassurance or someone to talk to or someone to reach out to me as my depression is taking over my abolity to do that? Am i really asking for too much? I just dont understand where things went wrong. When I suddenly stopped being important to them? Enough for them to lie to me?

Im just tired of people.

Im sorry if you read all the way here

#im just so lonely #so alone #i feel like no one really cares anymore #just want to dissapear #tw.depression. #tw.vent #people suck #i just dont understand

[saintobio]

forget me, too.

↳ miya atsumu/fem!reader

after a series of broken promises and unresolved arguments, perhaps all atsumu needed is to hear you say good bye for one last time

genre. angst, past lovers

warnings. slight profanity, prescription drugs, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of past cheating, implied depression, tiny bit euphoria-inspired

notes. 1.3k wc. just a quick post from my old drafts!

general masterlist

“‘Tsumu?”

The guy barely opened his eyes at the sound of the familiar voice ringing on his right ear—the soft, angelic voice awakened him from his deep slumber as soon as he realized who the owner could be. His chest rose up and down at a slow pace with each heavy breath he took. He thought to himself, what time’s it? Is it noon? Is it night time? Frankly, he had no idea. He couldn’t even remember the last time he watched the sunset because he would often wake up at the weirdest times of the day, or night, and still end up going back to sleep. The amount of times he had gotten out of bed were as infrequent as the 29th of February.

Perhaps seeing you was his leap year.

“Atsumu, are you awake?”

He squinted his eyes and lifted his body with his elbows propped on both sides to see you sitting on the edge of his bed. A look of worry had stretched across your beautiful, delicate face by the time his eyes met yours. Call it crazy, but his mind stopped working and his heart stopped functioning overall. He was frozen like an ice block, unable to blink or breathe or do anything else. It was just hard to process that the person he loved the most was right in front of him, again.

“Y-Y/N?” he spoke, quickly enveloping you for a desperate embrace. “You’re back.”

You hugged him tightly and soothed his back with careful strokes that later shifted to his hair. Atsumu felt your fingers combing through his flaxen hair as you looked at him adoringly, just like how you used to. Your scent’s still the same, he thought. Except, you had a much more floral fragrance coming out of you. Like white roses and candles. He was comforted by your presence alone, but being able to talk to you and have you in his arms made him complete. How could one person fix another broken person by simply existing?

“I’m just visiting you, ‘Tsumu. I got so worried,” you softly whispered, cupping his cheek while caressing his cheekbone with your gentle thumb. “You need to take care of yourself. Please, baby. I hate seeing you like this because of me. I feel responsible for the pain I caused you.”

You shouldn’t at all—at least, that’s what Atsumu believed. If anything, he was the one who caused you misery. It was the only acceptable reason for him to deserve the agony that he was going through because your pain was also his. In his head, you didn’t have to feel sorry for him because this was his fault in the first place. Had he given you the proper love you deserved when you were still together, you never would have separated. Too many of those broken promises were made by him and one of which was his vow that he would stay with you through it all.

He didn’t. But he knew he should have. He should have supported your dreams instead of pulling you back.

You wanting to pursue your dreams was the root of your breakup. He didn’t want you to leave, he wanted you to stay despite your reassurance that the long distance relationship would work. It didn’t, however, because he saw other girls out of spite while you slept in your bed alone thinking of how much you missed him.

“I-I’m sorry,” he started with a raspy voice, “I’m so fucking sorry for everything I did to you. They never meant anything to me and I was never a good boyfriend. I always fight with you over the littlest things, I always let my anger take over me. It was toxic and I should have realized that sooner. I-I should’ve listened to you when you told me that you—”

“Shh, it’s fine.” You pulled him back into your arms and let him feel your embrace, despite the coldness of his room. Atsumu’s heart couldn’t stop beating rapidly in his chest. “You’re fine. I’m not here to have you apologize. I just genuinely wanna let you know that you should live your life out there even if we’re no longer together, even if you and I can’t be together anymore. You’re still young and I know you have big dreams, so chase them. Search for someone new, learn how to love again, find your new source of happiness. You can’t stay locked in this room forever, ‘Tsumu.”

Atsumu was certain that his eyes were embossed with gloss as he saw his inverted reflection through yours. The anxiety building inside his heart had then faded into tranquility when he gazed at you and just simply appreciated the fact that you even took the time to visit him. You always knew how to control his mood and perhaps it was what brought you here to see him. You knew that you were the only one that could save him from his downfall.

“Just stay with me,” he begged, pressing his forehead against yours. “Be mine again. I promise I’ll be better. I’ll make you happy. Please, let me correct my mistakes. I love you so fucking much, Y/N. I love you so much that I’d rather die than to live in this dull life without you.”

“Atsumu.” You sighed regrettably, squeezing his hand with a forlorn gaze. “I love you, too. I do, but you know we can’t be together anymore. I’m just here to give us our much needed closure and to make sure that you’ll be okay.”

He refused to accept your answer and felt tears brimming his eyes. You gave him a peck on the lips before those tears could fall and it was all it took for your one and only Atsumu to calm down. “Are you happy?”

You were quick to nod, but made the effort to clarify your response, “I am. Well, not as happy when I’m with you of course, but I’m learning to be happy on my own and that’s what you should do, too. We live in different worlds now, so I want you to live yours even without me by your side.”

He hated the very idea that he broke his promises to you—that he wouldn’t ever hurt you, that he wouldn’t make you cry. If only he could turn back time, then you would still be his and you two could have had a happy ending.

But happy endings in a world like this seemed to never exist.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he told you in his sincerest gratitude. “You don’t know how happy I am. Can you... can you stay with me a little before you leave?”

With a reassuring nod, you laced your hand with his and glued your eyes to his loving ones. Despite the rocky part of your relationship with Atsumu, there were still many beautiful memories that you two shared together. You could never forget how he was your first real love, how you two dated all through high school, how you cheered for him in every game. Funny to think that he was actually popular with the ladies before, but his attention remained on you until the arguments began. Atsumu briefly recalled all these shared memories as if he could read through your mind and he was able to evoke the same sadness from the reminiscence of your short but beautiful time together.

If you were to be reborn again, he would still choose to love you.

“Hey, ‘Tsumu?” Another man’s voice cut him out of trance as it was followed by a knock on his door. Soon enough, the guy revealed himself to be Osamu who peeked through the door to check on his twin brother. “It’s dinner time. Who are you talking to?”

The blond twin gestured towards you. “Y/N, she came here to see me.”

Osamu looked at your direction with repressed emotions before he glanced at the scattered Fanapt pills that were all over his brother’s bedroom floor. A heavy sigh then flew out of his lips.

“‘Tsumu,” the other twin spoke cautiously. “Y/N died six months ago.”

Atsumu furrowed his brows in confusion before uncontrollable anger encompassed his head, completely disabling him to think rationally. How could his twin brother say that?

“Don’t say stupid things, ‘Samu! She’s right here.”

hq general taglist: @x-cloudyyyy @cottonheadedninnymugggins @centvry @kageyamakock @sunnsettee @bluesylveon2 @cuddlesslut @mysteriousparker @asdfghjkl7things @02hhsailor @anejuuuuoy @minswags-posts @chemnerdkuroo @misssugarless @deeznutss @tanakax123 @oikawa-bubs @lust4keiji @black-kuroover @stel9 @tsumuuwu @daylghits @ems1des @the-golden-jhope @wonyoschubs @bakus-stuff @melty-kisses @softy-woo @dekuspet @kittycatkrissa @curapiikt

#atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu angst #hq angst #haikyuu fic #drabble #haikyuu drabbles #tw.depression #tw.death

[nkogneatho]

there's something so hot about depressive and insomniac men that i can't explain

#pasi.txt #tw.insomnia #tw.depression

[hornime]

losing dogs | miya osamu x gn!reader

warnings: PLEASE PLEASE READ WARNINGS BEFORE READING, gn!reader, mention of suicidal thoughts/attempt, implied depression, self-deprecating thoughts, angst, comfort!!!

w/c: 2.2k last i checked

a/n: helo this is for @tetsvhoe​’s please don’t say you love me collab and also my angst debut (technically if you don’t count the unwritten parts of rftp LOL). uhm this is something that’s very haha vulnerable just because i wrote it when i was in a not-so-hot place. but writing this was like lifting off a weight from my chest and i hope it’s able to have the same effect on you <3

[05:37 PM] you: i had a shit day

[05:37 PM] you: i'm just gonna go to bed, i'll prob be sleeping by the time you come home

[05:37 PM] you: i'm sorry, i know you wanted to eat dinner together

[05:37 PM] you: i just can't right now

you're already cozied up within the blankets by the time his response comes, phone blissfully set on do not disturb. the response comes at six on the dot, just like you knew it would, because osamu always takes breaks at the beginning of every hour.

he's a man of routine, and you can't help but think that you keep fucking that up.

that, among other things.

[06:00 PM] osamu: don't worry about it, i'll be home soon

[06:00 PM] osamu: sleep well, baby

you awake some hours after, a warm weight draped over your waist, a thumb rubbing circles on your stomach. your back is pulled close to the heat of his chest and his chin is hooked over your shoulder—you feel his quiet breaths against your skin.

he's still awake. you know that because his exhales are more drawn-out than when he's sleeping. that's what he does when he lays next to you—he controls his breathing so that it's quiet.

he told you once that he does that because he doesn't want to wake you up with how loud he breathes. you'd laughed at the time, and he'd chimed in with a 'i'm serious!'

that all seems very far away now. you don't let the small smile of the memory pull at your lips.

with a rare burst of energy, you rotate your body, unceremoniously shuffling on the bed until you're facing him. his eyes widen as your eyelashes flutter open.

"hey," he whispers carefully. delicately. as if he's too loud, some gust of wind will blow through and slam the window shutters shut, trapping him out.

you hate how you make him worry.

"hi," you hum.

his hands raises to trail a finger underneath your earlobe and cup your cheek. you'd nuzzle into the touch, but you don't think you deserve to indulge in it.

"how're you feeling?"

an indiscriminate noise slips from between your lips. "better."

"'better' enough to eat?"

you frown. "no, you're not cooking. you just came from work—"

osamu shrugs. "i love cooking."

you ignore the pang of pain in your chest when he says that.

"i'm sure you're tired," you say, closing and opening your eyes to clear your blurry vision. slowly, you begin sitting up with the intent of getting out of bed, ignoring the way your head spins. your feet pat mindlessly at the floor beneath you in a poor effort to find your slippers.

"i'll make... something. some ramen."

as you lift yourself up, he grabs your wrist. "i'm cooking." you open your mouth to protest but he cuts you off. "you had a bad day and i'm the professional chef. end of discussion."

you try to fight him on it, you really do, but he's faster and you're neck-deep in lethargy. in the time it takes you to stand, he's already out the door, giving you a two-finger salute with a cheeky smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

you hate how you make him worry.

somewhere along the way, you doze off again, your face half-pressed into the pillow with your limbs tangled in the comforter. the scent of something delicious trails in from the other side of the door, and your stomach growls.

a muffled 'dinner's ready!' rings out, and you groan, pressing the meat of your palms to your eyes before pulling yourself upright.

you trudge to the dining table, following your nose more than anything else, chasing the remnants of sleep with barely-closed eyes. the table's a quaint little thing with only four chairs, one of which has an uneven leg that keeps pattering against the floor, but right now, it looks better than any of the five-star restaurants osamu's ever dragged you to.

there's two plates set up. they don't match—one is decorated with simplistic flowers, and the other is a metal dish swiped from the restaurant—but you could care less. each is filled to the brim with warm, orange noodles, a cloud of steam rising from them with a smell that makes your mouth water.

and as you scoop the first forkful of food into your mouth, under osamu's watchful gaze, it's like color has returned to the grayscale of your mind. you sigh happily, letting the comfort of the meal wrap you tight, and then you let the cook do the same.

and for some time, everything's alright. you have your occasional lows, and osamu has his, but together, you're always able to figure things out.

you're always able to feel okay again.

that was the first time.

after that, those 'shitty days' become more and more frequent until they outnumber the 'not-shitty days'. more often than not, you're already tucked into bed by the time osamu comes home, an apology having been typed out and sent. half the time, you pretend to be asleep when the bed dips under osamu's weight and his hands massage your aching muscles. the other half, you at least make an attempt to greet him with a smile and ask about his day.

though the strength you have to maintain that latter half is waning.

it's on a saturday morning, when you're sitting on the edge of the bed, your head in your hands, that everything starts boiling over.

"i just want you to talk to me."

you stay silent.

"i'm here for you, i swear. tell me what you need and i'll make it happen, i promise. just–"

you clear your throat and his rambling lapses into silence.

"i'm just... tired."

after a few beats, when it's clear that you're not going to elaborate without being prompted, he speaks. his voice is soft. delicate.

you hate how you make him worry.

"tired of what?"

you bite your lower lip as memories of late-night meals, all-encompassing hugs, coarse fingers wiping your tears away, all come flashing through your brain. you don't deserve it, any of it, you're sure of that.

you don't deserve him.

you chuckle mirthlessly, digging your fingers into your temples.

"isn't it obvious? i'm tired of being a burden."

he stills; you can feel it, the air shifting with way his jaw clenches and hands tighten into fists. he drops to his knees in front of you, tilting your head up from your chest so that you're making eye contact with him.

"are you serious?" he sounds almost angry. you avert your eyes from his. "you're not a fucking burden."

you scoff, getting off the bed and walking to the other side of it. out of the corner of your eye, you see osamu rising off his knees, expression unreadable.

"it's like talking to a brick wall," you say, throwing your hands in the air.

"where is this coming from?"

you spin on your heel, face burning. you're seething, breaths coming in harsh pants.

"'where is this'—what do you mean 'where is this coming from?' i'm like a fucking leech! all i do is suck the happiness out of your life, don't you see it?"

"no you don't," he replies curtly. "you don't—"

"yes i do!" you sound frenzied, almost manic at this point. why doesn't he get it? why doesn't he see that he could do so much better than some pathetic, fucked-up individual that has done nothing to deserve his affection? "i just keep holding you back."

"don't say that." he's made his way to you, cupping your face in his hands. his face is anguished, tears prickling at his lashline. "that's not true. please, don't say that."

you hate how you make him worry.

you exhale, closing your eyes for just a second, before opening them up again, a hardness in your stare that has him wincing. your voice is low and deliberate when you speak again.

"haven't you noticed that you cook more for me than you do for the restaurant? you drop the dinner shift almost every day just to make sure i eat, like i'm some kind of dependent child, because i can't fucking do it myself. i can't even bring myself to eat anymore and you're the one that's forced to pick up the pieces."

his brows furrow. "the restaurant is a job. you're my partner—"

"that's not the point," you hiss, tears now streaming down your heated cheeks. "that's not the fucking point."

"then what is?" he asks almost desperately. he can feel you slipping through his grasp, he can feel you spiraling down, down, down...

"i'm keeping you from doing what you love!"

your admission slices through the air.

osamu can barely think through your words—he's fucking pissed. pissed at himself for making you feel that way, pissed at you for convincing yourself of that, pissed at the whole fucking world.

he takes a shaky breath.

"...and what is it exactly that i love?"

"cooking, you asshole. cooking! you love the restaurant, and yet i'm the one that keeps you from it every fucking day!"

"are you serious?"

"yes i'm fucking serious! i'm like a ball and chain—"

"i love more things than just cooking!"

"like what? what is possibly worth you giving up your time and energy that you could be using for your dream—"

"i love you!"

a moment of quiet passes, then another, and another. you turn to osamu with incredulity written on your features.

"what?"

osamu swallows. "i love you."

you back away, hand quivering at your side.

"no. you don't get to pull that on me right now."

don't say that. don't stay with me any longer than you have to.

he walks towards you, voice strained as he tries to think of a way to fix this mess, to assure you that he'll always be here when you need him.

"i stay here because i love you, i take care of you because i love you, you have to understand that—"

his arms come to wrap you into a hug and you sob, a heart-wrenching noise that twists his internal organs into knots.

"you can't," you muster. "don't, god, don't fucking say that."

"why?" he's begging for some kind of explanation, for some way to heal your hurt and permanently dry your tears. "tell me why, please."

"'samu," you whisper into the air above his shoulder, knowing that this will change everything. "i don't want to be alive anymore."

he freezes, pulling away slightly to look at you. "shit."

you struggle for air as he runs his hands through his hair.

you hate how you make him worry.

"shit. have you—"

"no, i haven't attempted anything."

his eyes fly to yours in horror. "jesus fucking christ, that wasn't what i was gonna ask. have you talked to your doctor?"

"oh," your throat is dry. "no. not yet."

he nods silently—it's taking everything in him not to burst into tears.

"okay, let's do that first."

he moves to the bedside drawer, kneeling down to shuffle through the pile of documents and takeout menus stuffed in there.

"i know i have the info in here somewhere..." he mutters to himself.

"osamu," you whisper hoarsely.

he doesn't hear you.

"we'll get through this. you'll be okay."

"osamu," you say more forcefully.

he pauses, halting his movements.

“yeah?”

"there is no 'we' in this."

"what the hell is that supposed to mean?" he looks so heartbroken, so damaged—this is exactly what you wanted to avoid. "it's me and you. i'm gonna be here the whole time."

"i don't want you to."

you don't want him to be near when you inevitably burn up. you don't want his comforting embrace or his stupidly good food or his corny jokes, not when you know that you'll lose it all eventually.

"come on, don't say that. i love you."

you hate how you make him worry.

"i can't love you back." i want to, i want to so bad, but i can't. i'm so sorry. "i barely have it in me to love myself."

"i don't care about that. do you really think i'd care about that?"

"you deserve better."

"fuck what i deserve. you deserve better. you deserve the world. i can't give it to you but i can sure as hell try."

you take a shaky breath. "are you sure?"

his gaze unwavering, albeit watery. "never been surer."

"i'll just hold you back."

"you never do. you never will."

you bite back a sob. "it's just—everything is so hard. all the time."

he sniffles, cheeks wet. his voice cracks when he speaks. "then let me help."

"it won't be easy. for a long time, it's going to be really hard. i don’t know if i—"

"—i won’t let you do this alone. as long as i'm with you, i don't care if it’s hard."

"but—"

"—i'll always be here," he says firmly. "you're not getting rid of me."

you can't stop the grateful tears that gently cascade down your cheeks.

and sure, maybe you can't love osamu today. but there's always tomorrow. and the day after tomorrow. and the day after the day after tomorrow. you have time.

"i hate how i make you worry."

he smiles softly.

"it's my job to worry about the people i love."

#osamu imagine #osamu fluff #osamu angst #osamu x reader #osamu x you #osamu x y/n #osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x y/n #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #pinky.inky #[ tetsvhoe’s 2.3k angst fest ] #tw.depression #tw.suicidal thoughts

[hajimescutie]

# — iwaizumi & kageyama comforting you through the big sad

includes: h. iwaizumi x gn!reader; t. kageyama x gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

warnings: tw!depression

a/n: for my beloved @https-inarizaki i love and miss u <3 i also added kags bc i know u luv him too <333 ALSO this is not meant to glorify depression in anyway, just meant to provide a sense of safety and comfort <3

main masterlist

aoba johsai masterlist karasuno masterlist

IWAIZUMI:

hajime’s heart is breaking.

but not for the reasons you think. it’s not breaking because of you. rather, it’s breaking for you.

he’s fully aware of what he signed up for when you first started dating. “hajime… you don’t have to stay. i know it can be a hassle,” is what you said back then. he remembers how you looked so empty, so sure that he was going to leave you just because you have the big sad every once in a while. he’s put up with tooru’s episodes for years, he’s even been through it. he just wants to help you, he wants to see that pretty gleam in your eye, to see that toothy grin you give him whenever the sun stars to peak through the window, he wants to be there with you through the good and the bad days. because he loves you.

so now here he is, at 2am, sitting in bed with you with the dim light of the moon gleaming through the shades. it was happening again, and it was preventing you from getting any sort of sleep. your brain was enveloped by the emptiness as soon as your head hit the pillow, hajime sound asleep right beside you. your tossing and turning is what woke him up, rubbing his pretty green eyes before they filled with worry. “are you okay baby? what’s wrong?”

when he was given no response, and seeing the bland look in your eyes, he immediately knew what was happening. he sat up slowly, facing your body. he slowly put his arms under you, sitting you up gently to get you to sit in front of him. your body felt heavy, which reciprocated within his heart. you both sat in silence for a few minutes, just looking into the other’s eyes. hajime could say a lot of things right now, shower you with reassurance, pull you close to his warm chest. but he knows that’s not what you want.

sure, those suggestions could help, but you just want to be here with him. the more you stared into his eyes, basking in each other’s silence, the more clear-headed you felt. his eyes reminded you of spring, the grass beginning to grow here and there, the leaf buds peaking out of the trees, the flower stems beginning to climb. you can’t understand why this is so comforting, but it’s enough.

sooner or later, you felt your eyes start to become heavy, a small, lazy smile on your lips. hajime brought his arm around your waist, laying the both of you down onto the comfort of your mattress. you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, his hands finding their way into your hair, pressing a long, soft kiss on your forehead.

“love you baby, goodnight,” his eyes falling asleep to the sounds of your breathing.

KAGEYAMA:

tobio isn’t the best with words.

he knew from the beginning of your guys’ relationship of what he was getting into, when you first mentioned the episodes you went through from time to time. he reassured that it was no problem at all, and that he still loves you for you.

the only thing he’s worried about is putting it into words about how much he cares about you, how much he wishes he could take the darkness away, how everything’s going to be okay. his chest feels heavy when he wakes up in the middle of the night to you tossing and turning, when he sees the permanent frown etched on your lips, when he can almost physically see the long-term rain cloud hovering over your head.

tobio isn’t the best with words, but he’s willing to try for you.

try is definitely the right word, as he’s sitting next to you on the couch of the apartment, looking like he’s about to throw up.

“what’s wrong tobio? you okay babe?” despite feeling the weight in your chest, you still held so much affection in your eyes for him. he felt himself melt into your gaze, his brain wracking for the right thing to say to you during a time like this.

“i- um,” he started. he grit his teeth in frustration. why was this so damn hard? and he’s not even the one who’s going through it.

“baby, you can talk to me-“

“i love you!” he blurted out. you blinked a couple times, a confused yet sweet smile creeping onto your face, “i love you too, tobi, but are you okay? you look a little pale.”

you reached up to cup his face, but he was faster, pulling your body into his chest as he cradled your head and waist gently but securely. yours eyes went wide with surprise, trying to pull away because you were beginning to worry you had done something wrong. you could tell he was struggling on what to say and why he was acting so weird.

“tobio, what the heck is going-“

“please, just-“ he let out a sigh, “just give me a minute.”

you were beyond confused at this point, but you listened anyway. the sound of his rapidly beating heart put you at ease, his strong arms wrapped around your body providing you with a sense of security. you both sat in silence for a few minutes before you heard him inhale shakily, “i want to be there for you.”

“what do you mean babe?” you reached up to comb your fingers through his soft, black locks.

the setter cleared his throat, “i mean that i want to help you. i want to know how to help you. because i hate seeing you so sad, it makes me sad. not that i’m trying to make you feel bad, because it’s okay if you’re sad! well it’s more than being sad but that’s okay too! i want to know how to comfort you and- oh god did i say something wrong?”

his eyes immediately filled with worry, feeling you shake slightly and feeling his shirt start to become damp from your tears. he pushed you back slightly, cupping your face so your gazes meet. as much as it broke his heart to see you in this state, he couldn’t help but think how beautiful you look. he would never tell you that, thinking it might do more damage than good, but he wipes the tears away anyway.

you shake your head at his question, looking up at him with your teary gaze, “you don’t have to know how to comfort me, tobi. you do it in your own way.”

he felt like his heart was going to pop out of his chest, leaning forward to peck your lips, “i just have a horrible time with putting my thoughts into words. i want to be able to make you happy through the good and the bad days, especially the bad days.”

“you already do baby. i can see that you’re trying, even if you suck with words,” you poked his bottom lip as he pouted at your words, giggling to yourself when he gave you a playful scowl.

“whatever loser,” he flicked your forehead, causing you to scowl at him, “but thank you for letting me try, it’s a big step. i love you.”

“i love you too tobi. can we get something to eat now?”

reblogs are appreciated! <3

©hajimescutie 2021, all rights reserved.

#tw.depression #{cuties’ requests} #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x y/n #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi #hajime #iwaizumi hurt/comfort #haji #iwa #iwaizumi drabble #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama x y/n #tobio kageyama #kageyama #tobio #kags #kageyama drabble #kageyama hurt/comfort #haikyuu #haikyuu! #aoba johsai #karasuno #hq! #haikyu! #haikyu

[p-antomime]

Too cruel. To him.

ㅤ— wc: 2,6K.

ㅤcontent + warnings: 16+, including: heavy angst, toxic!kazutora so be careful, implicit depressive disorder, gaslighting, toxic relationship in general.

ㅤpairings: ex-bf!kazutora hanemiya x afab!reader

⠀— inspired by [x]

tokyo rev. masterlist!

a/n: phewww~ i don't know how to feel posting and writing this, but it's kind of... I don't know, i wanted to write something more heartbreakingly, sentimental and i guess the only way i could externalize it was by writing comfortless angst with kazutora lmao, but, anyway, a kiss to whoever is going to read this 'cause I broke my heart writing it!

Everything was going to be all right. It was going to be okay.

You had to convince yourself that it was all right to be able to go on living, even though you didn't have the strength for it. You had to force yourself to believe that it was okay because if you started thinking again, your bed would seem too desirable and become the only comfortable place for you to spend the rest of the week, and again would come the gritty days when you could barely get out of bed.

Your brain didn't know whether to force you to be happy to be away from him or to force you to taste more of the bitter taste of knowing you were alone. In reality, you just wished your brain could explain to you a little better why you were happier now without his presence, without his warm hands pressing against the tight spots on your back, without his soft lips brushing against your cheek in little kisses when the day was good.

If you could go back in time, for the Y/N of almost three years ago, you would have written a long and tearful letter to your younger self warning her that she needed to be smarter, that she needed not to get carried away by Hanemiya Kazutora's charisma and angelic smile, that she needed not to let herself become vulnerable and miserable.

In reality, that letter was right there, on the desk in your room next to the food your mother had left long minutes before because it was lunchtime. And you were still lying face down on your bed with your cell phone in hands not knowing who to text, if you should text. Were your friends waiting for you after all the time you had spent away from them because of Kazutora? He said that they were trying to turn you against him. Did his friends still like you? Did they condemn his conduct? Mitsuya? Chifuyu? Takemichi? Manjiro? Oh, wait, not Manjiro. Manjiro and him had been fighting for a while and how could you forget that now just when Mikey had been the topic of discussion between you two in the relationship several times because Kazutora said you were too close to him.

You took a deep breath and checked the time on the cell phone. It was almost 2 o'clock in the afternoon, was lunch still worth it? To make your mother less worried, maybe it was. Thinking about it, you slowly picked up the pieces of the fragment that still existed in your heart as fast as you ate the cold pasta that was so well made.

— Darling? — Your ears picked up from the gaps in the locked door of your room and your body cringed, you didn't mean to answer, you weren't ready to leave your cocoon yet. — You... wanna talk? Today you didn't even come downstairs for breakfast and I had made your favorite thing to eat in the morning and... — You could almost hear your mother's brain thinking carefully about the words, the last time she said something wrong and at the wrong time you burst into tears in the middle of the room remembering Kazutora. — I was wondering if you didn't want to go out today, how about it? Get some ice cream? Maybe go to the park? — You sighed heavily.

Everyone was trying to move on. Kazutora Hanemiya was moving on without even knowing or apparently caring that he had made you miserable. You needed to move on too, at least try, even if the snake venom was still tearing your will to live.

— Okay, mom... — Your voice came out less thick than a lint. — I'll just get ready and be right out. — And you didn't see it, but a bright, wide smile appeared on her lips as her eyes watered a little.

— Okay, ‘kay! — At least you could feel the enthusiasm evident in her voice. — Gonna wait for you downstairs, when you're ready, I'm ready. — You knew what that meant.

And minutes later, you were walking down the sunny street next to your mother trying not to feel uncomfortable by the way people walking down the street were looking at you. Your clothes were heavy, visually speaking. You seemed to be the depressed, tangled point of trouble in the midst of several people with their lives on the reins. But none of them had ever had a relationship with Kazutora Hanemiya.

The Kazutora Hanemiya who yelled at you when he was angry that you talked too much to Manjiro or went out with your friends unannounced and also the one who hugged you and wiped your tears minutes later telling you that you "didn't have to cry" because he "was there for you" and that he "wasn't going to yell again, wasn't going to make you sad again" because he loved you. And yes, Kazutora might love you, but he loved to hang out with his friends and go several days without giving you a single reply by text message while demanding that you satisfy yourself about every place you stepped into, he loved much more to keep you away from your friends and to implant palaces of lies and simulations in your brain disguised as truths that weighed less than a feather.

That day, your mind tried not to think so much about him or wonder if he was all right, since the last time someone had said something to you about Kazutora, it had been Chifuyu saying that "Tora is getting through all this in the best possible way, don't worry, Y/N". Your mother tried to cheer you up with ice cream and by taking you to the park, and even though you wouldn't admit it, feeling the kisses of the sunbeams and the cool breeze against your face reminded you a little of the you that was much happier away from Hanemiya, the you of before Hanemiya.

When you two arrived home, it was the first time in a long time that you held your mother's hand in human warmth as you walked home, and she was even a little startled to feel something, which was your fingers, rubbing against her palm.

— What do you think about me ordering takeout today? — She asked, her eyes sparkling as soon as you both got home, and you just nodded. — At your favorite restaurant? — And then a small and sincere smile, extremely sincere, broke out on your lips.

— I'd love it, mom. — You answered, and it was the first time in weeks that she heard the normal tone of your voice without being whiny or tired or sultry.

The look you two exchanged before you went to take a shower was understood by both parties as a "Thank you”. It was the first time your day had broken out of the usual tearful monotony: waking up, trying to brush your teeth, feeling your energy being drained even further, looking in the mirror and seeing no one with any dignity to live for, facing your bed and spending the rest of the day lying there unable to find a sufficient reason to get up and go try to live because your life before was just Kazutora.

Until you came out of the shower and were in the middle of putting on your pajamas, cell phone vibrated on your bed and you desperately went to get it, thinking it was one of your friends. In fact, you wanted it to be one of your friends and answered it without even looking at the screen.

— Sweetie? — And that voice.

That voice that to you now was a great symphony of martyrdom and anguish, that reminded you of all the times he said that no one would ever love you as much as he did. Your heart sank into a black hole of nostalgia, and your eyes watered. Had all your effort to live away from Kazutora been in vain? Didn't you deserve to be happy?

You remained silent, still holding your cell phone to your ear. Kazutora's breathing was heavy, as if he was exerting himself, and from the sound of the engine in the distance on the other line, it was easy to tell that he was driving something. Probably his Benz.

— C'mon, Y/N, answer your Tora. — Your stomach clenched and you closed your mouth tight, hand trembling, but still holding the cell phone. — Was three weeks enough for you to forget how much I love you? — Oh, he was drunk.

Of course, he could only admit his love for you when he wasn't sober. As always.

— Don't call me again, Kazu-- — He interrupted you with a muffled laugh and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

— Do you know where I'm going? Home, alone again, because a girl I like, you should know her, left me and I... — Kazutora coughed from the other side and a loud noise startled you, damn it, he was driving home completely under the influence. — Don't you want to come visit me? It's been a while since I've hugged you, I miss you, you know? I fucking miss you, sweetie, and...

The call dropped. And you squeezed the cell phone trying to keep listening until you gasped.

— Kazutora? — You called him and there was no answer. — Damn it! — You squirmed quickly trying to get the most comfortable clothes to leave the house and get ready to go after Kazutora, you just couldn't let him fuck himself. — Mom, I'll be right back! — Your voice shouted into the kitchen as your feet rushed down the stairs and before your mother could answer, you were already opening the door to the house carrying only your cell phone and your broken heart and rushing out.

You weren't running because you were worried about him. You were running because you were scared to death. What if he was trying to hurt himself? You hated the idea of him getting hurt more than the idea of you getting hurt. Your breathing was racing the way it did when Kazutora kissed you intensely or when he looked at you as if he was about to choke you with his bare hands, heart was pounding against chest as if it was going to pierce your ribs. The smell of rain was in the air, suffocating the one of tears running down your face as you approached his house.

And it was the fastest trip you ever made to Kazutora's place, but not fast enough for the rain not to start falling as soon as you knocked several, several times on his door. You thought he hadn't arrived yet, or worse: crashed on the way, until you saw him with his long hair tied up in a bun, clothes reeking of booze and eyes with dilated pupils opening that doorway.

As soon as he tried to lean in for a hug, you took three steps back, the rain beginning to wash over you.

— You came... — Kazutora spoke and a small smile crept across his lips and your frown creased.

And then you understood.

Kazutora called you because he knew you would go after him, knew you couldn't ignore him.

— Kazutora... — Your shaky voice came out barely louder than a whisper and your heart was aching to see him again, your hands were trembling and for the first time you were glad that the rain was masking your tears. — Fuck... Fuck! Kazutora! What the fuck, why you... fuck, leave me alone! I can't take it anymore! — All your anger that had built up for months was now being unleashed. — What the fuck do you want with me?! You know how fucking hard these days have been for me? — He looked at you surprised to see his previously sweet girl behaving this way, didn't you love him anymore?

— Y/N... I called you because I missed you! — Kazutora took two steps forward, walking out of his house and leaving the door open, and started to get wet in the rain the same way you did. — I wanted to see you again! You wouldn't take my calls, wouldn't even tell Chifuyu how you were, damn it! If you can't take it anymore, how about me? You're being too cruel to me. — Your breath caught in your throat.

Too cruel. To him.

He was really thinking that you were to blame for everything, that you were the villain of it all.

— I... — You started to speak, and your brain couldn't think straight. — Kazutora, I would never be cruel to you. Never. You know why? Because I loved you more than I loved myself, and you seem to have forgotten that as fast as you could get me away from everybody else. I loved you. You know, I loved you so much that not even after you treated me like shit did I say anything bad to anyone. You were my everything! You know that! — Now the tears could no longer be contained within your eyes.

— You talk as if I never did anything for you, Y/N. Don'tchu see how ungrateful you are being to me? — Kazutora tried to take your arms to bring you closer to him and you slapped his hands away, cringing against yourself because of the cold that was beginning to take over your body from the rain. — I treated you like a queen ‘cause that's what you were to me, I tried to keep you away from your friends ‘cause they were always trying to take advantage of you and-- — You interrupted him.

— Take advantage of me? Look at the shitty thing you're talking! They tried to warn me several times about you and I was stupid enough to trust you! — Your hands went to rub your eyes to try to stop yourself from crying. — Don't make me try to feel bad, Tora. I could try to write down all the times you've treated me well... and in the end it would just be an empty piece of paper... — A bitter laugh came out of your lips. — I... damn... — Your eyes burned with tears and you hated yourself for letting yourself cry again in front of that man. — What the fuck is your problem, Tora? — Kazutora tried again to approach you, and you pulled away again with hands in front of your body to try to keep him away. — I didn't want to be just another stop on your journey, I wanted to be your final destination. I gave you everything, my time, my loyalty, my happiness, if you asked for even my soul and my heart on a plate I would give them to you without a second thought, damn it, you know that. You know!

— Y/N... — He called you again and now, from his choked voice, it was obvious that he was starting to cry.

Crocodile tears, and yet your heart couldn't help but feel bad for making him cry for you.

— Don't say anything. I didn't finish speaking. — You spat the words in his direction. — The only one to blame here is you, Kazutora. You ruined everything that was good for me, for us, and every fucking time someone tried to tell me something bad about you, I told them that they misunderstood you. I tried to convince others that you were a nice guy, a nice boyfriend. — You took a deep breath, feeling your ribs suddenly ache. As if your psychological pain was somatizing your body. — Just fucking leave me alone... leave me alone, don't call me, don't try to talk to me, don't come after me, stop using Chifuyu to get at me... I'm tired, Tora. Tired.

You couldn't discern exactly what Kazutora was feeling through his face contorted into something resembling disappointment and resentment, but it didn't matter either. You didn't need or want to feel sorry for him. However, he barely tried to say anything or hold you when you turned around to walk out in the rain. Not an "I love you", a "Wait"; nothing. Maybe the rain washed away your pain and served to draw out the poison inside your soul to heal you.

#i4nanami #tokyo revengers angst #kazutora x reader #kazutora hanemiya #tokyo revengers kazutora #kazutora angst #tokyo rev angst #tr angst #tokyo rev x reader #kazutora x you #tw.gaslighting #tw.toxic #tw.depression

[fuyussi]

the high life

characters: sanzu, ran, rindou, koko, mikey

tw: reader has depression, suicidal mentions, death, angst

wc: 1k~

a/n: this is 100% a vent fic i wrote for myself pls don’t read if u like being happy thanks

As a high ranking member of Bonten, you’ve honestly seen it all, experienced everything, probably. From mass killings, to drug parties, to orgies. You throw yourself into the fray thinking that that’s what it means to feel alive. There’s no lack of good looking men in Bonten, at this point you’ve had your turn with almost all of them. This should be the life right? So why does it still feel so empty.

Sanzu Haruchiyo

“Sanzu…” you pause, the words getting stuck in your throat, “I don’t like… anything about me.”

“Huh-“ Perhaps this wasn’t a good time to unload this on him. It was barely 8am and you honestly just wanted to get a snack from the shared kitchen. Sanzu’s unfocused eyes blinked owlishly at you, having just snorted a line of cocaine. It looked like he was trying to process your words, too bad the drugs are probably the only thing on his mind right now.

You don’t know why you bothered, perhaps you thought that he might have something earth-shattering to say. Something to give you an epiphany. Guess not.

Anything else he had to say was lost because by the time he lifted his head after snorting another line, you’d already left.

Haitani Ran

Entering the executive meeting room after leaving the kitchen, you see Ran already in.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He looks you over. “You ok? You look… rough. The guy last night couldn’t have been that bad, right?” He laughs easily.

You look at him numbly, before mumbling out “I don’t… like anything about me, Ran.” Somehow the words are a bit easier to say now.

After a prolonged silence, Ran finally barks out a laugh. “Was he really so bad that it made you hate yourself? HA. If you need a good time I’m always here, you know?” A cocky smile adorns his face.

You turn away. He isn’t gonna take you seriously. “Haha, right of course.” You think you’re gonna be sick. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

And before he could say anything more, you’d already left.

Haitani Rindou

The sounds of you throwing up must have been very loud, seeing how the door of the handicap bathroom was just thrown open by Rindou. “Who the FUCK- oh it’s you.”

You groan, getting up to flush the toilet and wash your face in the tiny sink. Rindou silently watches you splash water on your face more times than necessary.

“Rindou,” you start. Should you bother? No he’s probably gonna say something dumb like the other two. But what if he doesn’t? “I don’t like anything about me.” It gets easier every time you say it, almost like you’re starting to realise it yourself.

You can see him staring at you through the reflection of the mirror. His stoic face gives nothing away. Maybe this time-

“Are you pregnant?” You don’t know if you want to cry or punch the mirror till your knuckles bleed. Both probably. Instead, you choke out a strained “what?”

Rindou shifts in his spot at the door, “You’re being uncharacteristically emotional, and you just threw up. It’s a fair question, I think.”

You sigh, it’s not a slight at you, he’s just blunt. “No I’m not.” you reply dimly as you push past him.

And before he could question you further, you’d already left.

Kokonoi Hajime

You feel more exhausted in the past hour than you’ve ever felt in months. The emptiness in your chest only seemed to grow the more you try to speak to people. You ponder simply finding a corner to curl up in forever.

Letting your feet take you where they feel like, you find yourself standing right by Koko’s office. You can see him in his office looking over some paperwork, handling Bonten’s financial matters no doubt. You observe him, watching his face, his posture, you see him mumbling some words but you can’t make out what they are. Even in perceived solitude, he shows no signs of the emptiness that you feel.

Thinking back to the others, none of them seemed to have understood your words. Perhaps it was just you. Yea, that’s probably it. There was no point in telling them, because they won’t get it. Well, except maybe one person. You wonder where he was.

Lost in thought, you failed to notice that Koko had gotten up from his seat to invite you in. But before he could even open his office door fully, you’d already left.

Sano Manjiro

After wandering for a bit, you finally find Mikey at the rooftop of the building. He sat on the edge, overlooking the city.

“It’s beautiful up here isn’t it.” You’re surprised he spoke first. “Mhm.” you hummed in reply, not knowing what else to say.

“What is it?” Mikey began again, “you look like you wanna say something.” He turned to look at your bewildered face.

“Even came all the way up here. So just say it.” he continued. You thought about it, of all the members maybe he could understand your numbness.

“… Mikey, I-“ you swallowed, the words becoming hard to say again. You turn your head away. “I don’t… like… anything about me.”

The silence that ensues makes you nervous, maybe you shouldn’t have said anything to Mikey. He was your boss after all. But when you turn to face Mikey to gauge his reaction, all you see reflected in his eyes was the same emptiness you felt. You feel a twisted sense of comfort in them.

He understands.

“Shall I put you out of your misery, then?”

“And who will put you out of yours?”

“Don’t worry, I have that covered already.” He responds cooly, like he actually had a plan.

Somehow you still manage a chuckle, turning to face the skyline again. After a while, Mikey presses, “Well, how about it?”

You can’t find it in yourself to turn down his offer, and for the first time in months, you smile a genuine smile.

However as you close your eyes, you suddenly picture Koko. You never did hear what he had to say, never even given him a chance. Maybe he could have said something to save you. You feel the cold metal of Mikey’s gun press against your temple.

But you’ll never know what Koko could have said, because before you knew it, you’d already left.

#tokyo revengers #tokyorev #tokyrev angst #tokyo revengers angst #sano mikey #mikey sano #sano manjiro #haitani ran #sanzu haruchiyo #haitani rindou #haitani brothers #kokonoi hajime #bonten #ran haitani #rindou haitani #mikey angst #tw.suicide #tw.depression #fuyussi.writes

[haikyuuuuuhypeeeee]

September Scribbles - Thursday, September 9th

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Featuring: Yaku Morisuke, Yamaguchi Tadashi, and Suna Rintarou (1.3k wc)

Prompt: Person A knows that Person B will need more help, when they are ready for it, but for now they hope that holding them tightly and talking to them softly is a good start in the right direction (prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting)

WARNING: hurt/comfort, mentions of depression, mentions of anxiety

YAKU MORISUKE

The aura radiating from Yaku on the court is rather frightening.

HIs body language is just screaming “don’t touch me, don’t look at me, don’t talk to me.”

Even Lev, who either is completely oblivious to body language cues or likes to push Yaku’s buttons, doesn’t try to make him feel better.

From your spot in the stands you can see how angry and upset he looks.

Which is understandable, given how he just played his last high school volleyball match ever.

No more matches with Nekoma - no more practices with his team - no more being the number one defender for a team known for their defense.

He’ll hang up the iconic red and white jersey and walk away.

You know he has plans to continue his volleyball career after high school, but that fact won’t comfort him now.

You’re not even sure if you could, but you still choose to wait outside the locker room for him.

Soon the team emerges, all with morose faces and red-rimmed eyes.

You give them encouraging smiles, all the while keeping your eye out for the former Nekoma libero.

“He took off after our meeting,” Kuroo tells you on his way out before you can even ask. “I think he went down that hallway.”

The one he points to leads away from the gymnasium, and you thank Kuroo before walking away.

The crowds thin the further you move away from the games continuing on, giving you hope that you’re heading in the right direction.

Hey, if you wanted to be alone after losing an important game this was probably where you would go too.

And sure enough you turn down another corner and find him.

He’s the only one in the hallway, slumped down with his head in his hands as quiet sobs rack his body.

Something in your heart breaks and you waste no time in crouching down and putting an arm around his shoulder. To your immense relief he leans into your touch instead of pushing you away.

For as long as you’ve known him, Yaku has been able to shrug off the hard things in life. Lose a match? Practice hard for the next one. Fail a test? Study and prepare better for next time. Suffer an injury? Rest, recoup and come back stronger than ever.

It’s admirable, but it always made you worry - has he ever been able to just grieve?

Just take the time, however short it should be, to just release everything he’s feeling. Maybe it includes screaming or throwing, or maybe it’s quiet introspection. It doesn’t include figuring out the next step or putting on a brave face.

But because now there is no next step for Yaku and the Nekoma volleyball team, Yaku is finally able to completely fall apart.

You’re certain that it’ll take time, more than anything, for him to fully accept the end of his high school volleyball career.

But now you let him cry into your neck and lament the end of this chapter in his life.

YAMAGUCHI TADASHI

You’ve replayed the serve going into the net countless times.

Not in anger or with the intent to blame, but in despair.

And if this is how you’re feeling, you can only imagine how upset Yamaguchi must be feeling.

The day after the fateful Karasuno vs. Aoba Johsai match, and your friend is nowhere to be found.

You don’t share the same class but usually you find each other before school to chat.

You left it alone, wanting to give him space after suffering the loss.

But when he was nowhere to be found at lunch (and Tsukishima giving a nonchalant shrug after asking about Yamaguchi’s whereabouts) you set out to find him.

He wouldn’t go far, you knew he wouldn’t ditch school.

But it still took you some time to find him.

And when you finally did, you didn’t feel any relief.

Because the apathetic look on his face was so uncharacteristically Yamaguchi that it made you feel sick.

You sat next to him on the bench, and joined him in silence.

Part of you was searching for the right words to say, and the other part of you was hoping to hear how Yamaguchi would swear his revenge and work harder than ever.

But when he sat silent and stoic, you quietly spoke.

“It’s a team sport.” You don’t look at him, hoping that your words will reach him. “One missed serve or one missed spike or one missed play doesn’t determine the outcome of the entire game.”

Yamaguchi flinches so violently, his reaction the smoking gun in the case of What’s Bothering Yamaguchi Tadashi.

Because he would think that his missed serve was the reason they lost.

He would shoulder that blame, holding it all while doling out compliment after compliment for his teammates.

But what Yamaguchi always forgets is that he’s one person - one person with a sensitive, compassionate soul that takes all the blame so others won’t have to, but he takes it hard.

And sure enough, you feel his head come to rest on your shoulder, and you see tears fall onto your lap.

You wrap your arms around him, and let him cry under the weight of the guilt that he need not carry.

But as often as you can tell him that it’s not his fault, you know it means jack-all if he doesn’t believe it himself.

So while he suffers under the blame, you could take some of the weight away and let him cry his heart out.

SUNA RINTAROU

When Suna is upset, he detaches.

It caused a lot of problems at the start of your relationship - how could you help him when he wouldn’t let you in?

You were the opposite. You had to tell the world whenever you experienced the smallest inconvenience. Because in your past you knew bottling that shit up would only lead to more problems.

But because that works for you, doesn’t mean it works for everyone.

And for Suna, he would always have to retreat.

Whether it meant leaving your messages on READ for a day or two or spending more time alone in the bedroom under the covers without you.

When you had first started dating you nearly lost your mind. Did he not trust you to help? Was he scared of opening up? Did he not want to be with you anymore?

It wasn’t until after many, many discussions that you finally realized that it was a little bit of all that, and so much more.

Because while Suna maybe didn’t trust you, and maybe scared of opening up, and maybe didn’t want to be a burden to you anymore, it wasn’t Suna’s heart telling him that.

It was chemicals in his brain, twisting his thoughts and pushing and pulling his opinions and tricking him into believing lies and ultimately trying its hardest to self-sabotage him.

Suna doesn’t know why his brain does this. Doctors don’t fully understand why either, but they give him the tools and medicine to help combat his traitorous brain.

And after those many, many discussions you found out how you could help too.

By waiting.

(It’s fucking agonizing.)

But it’s the best way you can help. For one, it’s the least destructive for both you and Suna.

You don’t have to sit and fret over what you could do better or worse to help him. Because you know that your role is extremely helpful.

And Suna doesn’t have to believe the misconstrued thoughts that inform him that you’re sick of him but he hates you so it’s fine but he also hates himself.

Because he knows that the second he needs you, you’re there.

You’ll come into the bedroom, ignore his messy state and pull him into your arms.

You’ll reassure him that no he isn’t disgusting, no he is worthy of love, and no you don’t have any plans to leave him.

It’s a quick, band-aid fix, yes.

But it’s enough to tide him over until his brain balances out and he can realize that no he isn’t disgusting, no he is worthy of love, and no you don’t have any plans to leave him.

And it’s the truth.

A/N: I would like to point out that in Suna’s case if you are suffering from depression, anxiety or other mental health issues you are allowed to rely on people you trust and care about but if you can seek professional help. Doctors have the proper training and they have the resources available to help you, and with a positive support system you all around you will soar. You are loved, you are cared for, and you are appreciated. Stay safe. 💖

September Scribbles Masterlist🧡

Taglist: @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @ara-mitsue

#haikyuu! #haikyuu #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu hurt #hq hurt #haikyuu comfort #hq comfort #tw.depression #tw.anxiety #yaku morisuke #yaku morisuke x reader #yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi tadashi x reader #suna rintarou #suna rintarou x reader #September Scribbles #September Writing Challenge