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hellsbarnes · 2 years

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୨ 𝙪𝙣𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 (2) ₊˚ପ⊹ 𝙗.𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 • 𝙨.𝙧𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 ୧

pairing: fwb!bucky barnes x avenger!fem!reader x steve rogers (love triangle)

summary: when bucky breaks your heart, choosing dot over you, you are left to pick up to pieces, finding comfort in steve’s arms, until bucky realizes he still loves you.

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors do not interact, mentions of p in v sex, friends with benefits situation, mentions of casual sex, so much angst, lots of heartbreak, self-doubt, dot makes an appearance, (please do not read if you’re uncomfortable)

word count: 2.3k

author’s note: hello and welcome back to chapter 2! i am so so happy to finally have it up for you guys! i spent a lot of time trying to get this chapter right, i hope you enjoy it and please remember to reblog, thank you!

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝙪𝙣𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

You had no idea how long it had been when you finally woke up to sunlight fluttering across your face, stinging your already puffy eyes as you somehow still managed to find it in yourself to get up. You sigh softly, wincing as you blinked, feeling the pain of having cried almost the whole of last night, barely being able to catch about less than three hours of sleep.

You looked towards the clock, the numbers seven thirty-three reflected back and usually you’d be down for breakfast, especially since it was Wanda who would always cook up pancakes and she had always made the coffee taste way better you had remembered it to be, you would have raced towards the kitchen, perhaps start a banter with Sam who always took a little too many pancakes, but then again, you couldn’t go down, no, because he was going to be there.

Bucky would be there, back from his morning run with Steve and Sam, sweaty, his too tight of a shirt sticking to him, giving you a great view of his biceps, and the smile he would give you, almost as if he hadn’t just railed you into your bed hours ago, or rather crushed the heart that you had so delicately placed in his hands.

It was that smile that had gotten your hopes up, that and the way he said “good morning doll” without knowing what that little pet name he gave you did to you. It made butterflies flutter in your tummy, it made you float for the rest of the morning as you went about your day, so, so excited to see him again at night.

“Tin man we both know I won” you froze hearing Sam’s voice reverberate across the hallway, you swallowed hard trying not to make a sound as you heard Bucky’s laugh, loud, contagious and a constant reminder of how well he was still doing, the complete opposite of how you were. Perhaps it was just a simple reminder that you had never meant anything to him at all.

“Keep telling yourself that Wilson, as if anyone’s gonna believe it” you hear him retort, it was the usual argument about who won and how many rounds they each had made in the park, and you heard Steve say something about how it doesn’t matter.

“Yeah, well I know I won,”

“Like hell you did Sam”

“(Y/N) will say I won” Sam replies and you falter when you hear the footsteps that had drawn closer the past few minutes stop outside your door, pausing, and you recognise it almost immediately.

How could you not?

Those footsteps had your heart rushing every time he drew closer, every time he leaned in to see which book you were reading, before asking you to tell him all about it.

“You gotta read it yourself Buck” you had said, giggling when said man rolls his eyes playfully, smile on his face as he looks towards you, “well I have you to tell me darling” he would say, not knowing how he made you feel, as you covered it up with an expert chuckle, before telling him just about every detail of the book.

Maybe it was the way he would listen to you so intently, taking in everything that you would say or it was the way he would lean in, interested in the story you spun from the book, you had let yourself believe that all of it was done because he liked you too.

You could never be more wrong about it.

“Buck?” you heard Steve call and when the footsteps shuffled away, you let the tears that had welled up in your eyes to spill, staining your cheeks once more as you struggle to keep him out of your head, but it was almost impossible to do so, not with the image of his smile or the fleeting feeling of his arm oh so carefully wrapping around your waist when he tried to steady you while you were hanging christmas decorations across the ceiling of the tower.

“Bucky, is it straight?” you asked, trying to look at the decoration you had just hung up, in your eyes it was just a little too much to the right, you bite your lip as you pushed the candy cane to the left.

“It’s perfect” Bucky replied, boyish smirk on his face as hands you another ornament, you took it, and as you tiptoed, trying so hard to reach the hook that was just out of your reach, before you knew it, your foot slipped off the ladder step and you let out a scream as you tried to grab the ladder, only to fail as you fall, you were half expecting to hit the ground, when you felt strong arms wrap around your waist, supporting you, you were breathing hard, looking down to see the brunette, an almost worried look on his face.

“I got you” he said, and you manage today thank you, your heart thundering in your chest. “I always got you doll” he adds, and you remembered thanking whatever god that existed that you weren’t facing him because butterflies were fluttering in your tummy, your cheeks had heated up and that night, you found yourself underneath Bucky again, a moaning mess as he thrust into you.

Oh, you were a putty in the brunette’s hands, you had tried on many occasions to claw your way out, your mind screaming abort, abort but it was too late because your heart had settled itself down, it belonged to Bucky and there was just nothing you could do about it, not that your heart had minded at all, and there it all began, the pining, the endless daydreaming and god forbid, the thoughts you had of him someday wanting you the way you pined for him never stopped.

A tear slid down your cheek and then another, and it didn’t take any longer than a minute for you to end up in the same state as you did just hours ago.

You weren’t exactly sure how many days it has been since what had happened, maybe a week. You were temporarily pulled out of your misery when a soft knock echoed on your door, you mumbled a who’s there only to hear Wanda, asking if she could come in. You stood up, walking over to let her in, she had come with pancakes, your favourite chocolate chip ones and a mug of coffee.

The second she saw the state you were in, she sighs, putting the food down, “come here” she had said softly, taking you in her arms as you sobbed uncontrollably, the dam breaking as you cry, and as the best friend you’ve had since your first day joining the team, she held you, soothing you with warm words and comforting pats.

“Was it Barnes?” she asked and you nod, she had found out about the whole situationship you had with Bucky just days after, she had somehow noticed a spring in your step, your smile was wider, and your eyes simply lit up whenever the brunette walked into the room. That and the fact that you and Bucky would often disappear halfway through movies or parties, and it didn’t take long for her to put two and two together.

“Don’t do this,” she had warned, she knew the feelings you harboured for Bucky, but you were thinking with your heart and you had ignored her advice to stop whatever you and the brunette had going on. You continued, diving deeper and deeper and here you were, crying, trying to find some way to stop the pain, wishing that you had taken her advice sooner.

“W-wanda, he left” you managed to choke out, “it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” she comforts and you willed yourself to believe her words, “come on, let’s go to the pizza place downtown, away from the tower,” she starts and you shake your head.

“You gotta leave this place (Y/N), at least for a while,” she says, standing up and picking up the tissues scattered all over your bedroom floor. “Yeah” you croaked, your voice hoarse as you stood up, finding it in yourself to head to the bathroom, peeling the too big of a shirt of yourself, trying to ignore the fact that it was the piece that Bucky had borrowed you when he had accidentally spilled coffee all over your shirt, you never found the chance to return it.

Well, more like you didn’t want the chance to return it, so you kept it, wearing it so you could smell his scent that until now, still stained the shirt, placing it into your laundry basket you stepped into the shower, allowing the warm stream of water to wash the tears away, to soothe the aching muscles and as you close your eyes, you tried your hardest to forget him.

“Pepperoni or Hawaiian?” Wanda asks as you skim over the menu that is laid before you on the table, the already extremely impatient waitress tapping her pen on her little notebook as you try to make a decision, given the fact you just spent half the day crying, food wasn’t exactly the first thing on your mind.

“Um, Hawaiian’s nice,” you say softly and she nods as the waitress scribbles your order down, walking away. You glance at the scenery before you, you could hear laughter, the sound of the ice-cream truck twirling around the street, with children trailing it, discussing which flavours they wanted to get.

It reminded you of the times that you and him would go on walks through the streets of New York, ever so often stopping for an ice-cream, gone were the times he’d smudge his desert on your nose jokingly.

You could still see the memories play in your head like a film without sound, and you hated how you could feel tears sting at the corner of your eyes as your memories of what you and Bucky threatened to overwhelm you.

Your eyes had been filled with adoration for him and well, his had been void of any emotion for you.

“You okay?” Wanda asks and you nod, about to reply when your eyes met his gaze, the one person that you had really hoped not to see, you quiver under his gaze that seemed so sharp you felt that it could probably slice through you, the same gaze he gave you when you begged him to stay, it was though he didn’t know you’d be here as well, and he wasn’t alone.

He had a girl on his arm, and by the way he was holding on by the waist, you knew she was the girl that Bucky had chosen over you. You watched as they settled at the table that you remembered sharing with him just a month ago at seven in the evening when he asked if you wanted pizza.

You could see why he had dropped you in a blink of an eye, any man would have chosen the bombshell babe almost instantly, the girl that sat across him was perfect in just about every way you never could see yourself being.

Her hair fell down her shoulders in waves, and yours, well, a look in the mirror made the difference between you and the woman Bucky had chosen all the more obvious.

The red lip colour she had going on made her lips plump, kissable and it complemented her red mini skirt, that stopped just below her thighs, exposing her toned legs, she had on a crop top that seemed to emphasise her waist, the little piercing at her belly button glinted under the afternoon sun.

However, what caught your eye was the necklace she had on her neck.

It was a four leaf clover, the very same one that Bucky had gotten you last Christmas, there was no mistaking it, the dazzling light green that painted the metal leaves were the same as what you had back in your room, it still sat in your little gold jewellery box, and the delicate silver chain that adorned her neck only reminded you of how you were over the moon when Bucky helped you put it on.

You had turned around, thanking him and finally worked up the courage to plant a kiss on his cheek. You had worn it daily, taken great care of it, glad to have something that maybe made you Bucky’s person, pretty much forsaking even your Tiffany necklace for the one he gave you.

You watched as she slid her hand so easily into his, a smile on her face as he said something that made her giggle the way he used to do when you and him were out for milkshakes and she looked gorgeous while doing so, looking as though she was one of them Victoria Secret models with her alluring smile.

She was everything Bucky wanted, it was a choice clear as day when it came between you or her.

“We could go somewhere else if you’d like,” Wanda says and you force a smile, shaking your head as you breathe, looking down, hoping that Bucky doesn’t see you wipe tears from your eyes.

“It’s alright,” you say as you tried your hardest to swallow the slice of pizza that sat on your plate, the crust scraping your already dry throat as you ignored the tangy taste of the marinara sauce, willing yourself to not look at the oh so happy couple that sat a few feet away from you.

The couple that you had thought you and the brunette would somehow end up being, all smiles and giggles, too busy talking to each other to notice how the world around you two turned was never meant to exist.

You had imagined a love like the ones you read in books, such like Mr Darcy and Elizabeth, but you now realised what were written in your favourite books could never be what you longed to have.

You blinked back tears, slowly coming to the clear realisation that Bucky would never love you.

He never did.

note: i hope you enjoyed this chapter, if you would like me to continue, let me know, please remember to reblog, it would mean a lot to me, thank you!

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txemrn · 1 year

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Like Ships in the Night

Unloving You

Welcome to my new anthology series Like Ships in the Night! Ethan and Tatum spent 15 years apart from each other, but fate tried making them reunite sooner. Each story can be read as a one-shot (unless noted). You can check out the smutty prologue here!

🔞This collection of stories is intended for mature audiences only. By continuing, you agree that you are 18 years of age or older. TW for chapters will be included with each part. 🔞

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!OC (Tatum Erikson), Tobias Carrick x f!OC (Tatum Erikson)

Series Music Inspo: "Ships in the Night" by Mat Kearney

Chapter Music Inspo: "Unloving You" by Anson Seabra

Chapter Summary: It's been 6 months since Ethan and Tatum broke up, and even though their lives are going in different directions, one thing remains the same.

Word Count: ~4700

Warnings: language, mentions of infidelity and masturbation; there is a plot reveal towards the end of this story that can be triggering to some; sensitive readers, if you are unsure, please scroll down to the end of the story to read this TW; it's in red

A/N: Some of these characters/plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry. Huge thank you to my girl @ao719 for looking over this piece! 🖤 Not truly beta'd; please excuse my errors.

~🖤~

Tatum

When does it stop? The pain, the loneliness, the tears?

The love?

When you find that person, the one that gets you, the one that understands you and completes you… that person that makes your eyes sparkle without even trying, that makes flowers smell brighter or even your favorite coffee taste better…

How do you say ‘goodbye’?

Can your heart even let go? Does it ever let go? When do you stop seeing them in your dreams? Smelling their skin in a light breeze? Hearing their voice in every song?

I fell in love. And now, I'm begging for someone to tell me: how do you fall out?

It's been almost six months since Ethan left me. Six months. It feels like we were just together yesterday, whispering secret promises to one another as our eyelashes and fingertips danced in flutters across our bare bodies. It was simple, yet intimate. We acted as if we would be doing it everyday for the rest of our lives.

And yet, we fell apart for what feels like decades ago. I mean, I'm a completely different person now, some days unable to recognize myself in the mirror. Still, in so many ways, I'm very much that broken girl who lucked out and found a boy. A lovely boy. A boy who gave me his whole heart.

Six months. I miss him. And I still love him.

I woke up to a text from him, inviting me to meet him for lunch before my clinic appointment. I didn't want to pass up the chance of actually getting to talk. So, with a belly full of nerves, I agree to meet him at a place near Edenbrook Hospital.

It was pretty warm out today in Boston. Getting out of bed has become easier for me over the past month, so I decided to enjoy my breakfast in the company of the rays of the early-September sun. The heat breathed life back into my skin, giving me a much-needed boost of serotonin. And just like that, something felt different about today. Better different.

For once in the past several months, life isn't overcast and gloomy. Although I wake up missing Ethan, I don't feel my usual sense of dread and sadness. I'm not overwhelmed with the stifling sense of doom or that life would be much better if...well, nevermind. Rather hope blooms in my chest, like maybe I can–no, like maybe I will overcome this. Today was going to be a good day.

I decided to venture out and explore. I moved in just before residency in July, and living with the crazy schedule of an intern, I never had a chance to explore the new city. And since Beantown will be home for at least three years, I might as well get used to it.

After struggling to find something to wear, I strapped on my shoes and headed out to run some errands before I met up with him. I had an important conference call this morning with my advisor at Johns Hopkins, a board representative, and the residency coordinator with Mass Kenmore. They've been incredibly supportive of my career decisions, especially after I turned down my residency spot soon after graduation. They understood my need for an interim hiatus, and were able to grant me my request with stipulations, which included working in a research laboratory part-time. Who knows? When I finally figure out my passion, my sharpened skills in pharmaceutical research may save lives… that is if I ever feel passion again.

Looking at my watch, I scury to catch the T to the medical district to meet him for lunch in fifteen minutes. Of course, it's crowded as I grip tightly to the metal railing of the moving tram. Shit, I hope I'm not late. He's trying to reach out after everything we've been through, and… well, I don't want him to think I'm not taking things seriously.

My anxiety betrays me as I swallow thickly. Along with the abrupt motions of the locomotive and the overbearing smells of skunked perfume, body odor and fried food, my breakfast threatens to make an appearance. I close my eyes, taking some deep breaths. Slowly inhale through my mouth, slowly exhale back out. Slowly inhale…

A hand grazes my shoulder; my eyes startle open only to find a kind, older gentleman with a Red Sox cap smiling empathically at me. Looking me over, he recognizes my situation, and kindly offers me his seat, guiding me to it. Maybe chivalry isn't dead.

I graciously thank him, finding solace in the empty spot before checking my watch again. Eleven minutes. I think I'm going to be just fine.

With two minutes to spare, I walk into our meeting location: a bar called Donahue's. Since I’ve beat him here, I go ahead and get situated at an empty table where he can easily see and find me. I feel weird coming to a bar during the day–even the bartender gave me an eyebrow before I ordered my water, but I've heard that it's more than a boozy-place, that the bar food here is decent.

A bell rings out as another patron walks into the dimly lit area. Not him. He grabs a long neck before joining a group of men in scrubs. I look to my right and see more people dressed in medical attire, which I guess makes sense; the bar is situated in the middle of several major hospitals.

The door chimes again, my heart dropping in anticipation, but it's a false alarm as a cute brunette in purple scrubs bounces into the place, ordering a round of shots. I hope this is the night shift…

I catch a whiff of something delectable, my stomach growling with demands. I grab a menu and begin to thumb through it, everything looking delectable. My mouth salivates as I make a mental note of their appetizers as I peruse over to their list of desserts.

But then, I freeze. I'm suddenly paralyzed as an eerie, familiar feeling washes over me. Haunting me. Someone is watching. I can feel their stare.

Glancing up, I gasp, the color draining from my face as my eyes prick with the threat of tears.

It… it can't be.

What's he doing here? He can't see me here. Not like this.

----------

Ethan

"Have a good one."

I wave goodbye to one of the newest arrivals at Johns Hopkins. So bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Filled with so much hope of making changes in the world of medicine. He was probably the top of his class, 4.2 GPA, president of his pre-med club. Complete nerd.

I recognize him. I was the same way when I first arrived.

Before…

He and his parents moved the last piece of furniture from my Baltimore apartment this evening. I relocated to Boston back in July to start my residency in a highly regarded, highly competitive diagnostics program. Today is finally the last day of my lease in the old place, so I came back one last time to clean up and turn in my keys.

And also, to get rid of that piece. I should've just thrown it away, but it was new, barely even a year old. It seemed like such a waste. I had listed it last week on a private med student bulletin board.

Free bed. Good condition. Pick up only. Within hours, it was claimed. And I was relieved.

Just get it out of here.

I lock the front door as I turn to clean the master bedroom that is now completely empty. But, truth be told, this room has been vacant for a while. I hated coming in here. Well, after.

As the vacuum cleaner whirls to life, I push and pull across the carpet, gliding effortlessly… that is until I hear a giant clunk, followed by rapid tinks and thuds under the wheel.

Damnit.

Laying down the clumsy appliance, I squat low to the ground, looking under the bristles for the culprit of the noisy clog. And there it is. A hair-tie.

Her hair-tie.

Wiggling it free, I hold it in my hands, inspecting it. I stare at the taupe-colored elastic for a few moments before chuckling under my breath. What was I expecting the damn thing to do? Take my heartache away? Erase the pain of the past six months?

It really wasn't anything special, just another piece of trash to toss.

Just like me.

For as long as I can remember, I had a well-erected facade that gave the impression that I was tough while keeping people away. And it worked. I'm not jaded; it's just a fact of life that I learned when I was younger: people will let you down.

I don't need others; I don't need help. Once you show vulnerability to someone, once you expose the weakest part of your armor, they know how to hurt you. And I refuse to be weak.

But then… hell, she happened. And for a moment in time, I had someone in my corner, someone I could trust, someone who put me, all of me, before themselves. Shit, even my own mother couldn't even do that, and Lord knows, my dad tried. But Tatum? Damnit…

Tatum saw my full potential. She saw beyond my brokenness, my shit attitude, my shortcomings. I didn't feel this intrinsic need to prove myself to anyone anymore because this amazing woman believed in me–like truly believed in my intelligence, my skills. She made me believe I was meant for greater than what I thought was possible.

We called it love.

I really thought it was.

But I was fooling myself. She fooled me, and now I'm left with thoughts and memories of a time that should never have happened in the first place.

[6 months ago…]

"Thanks for the ride, man," Ethan taps on the hood of his colleague's car before waving goodbye. He throws his duffle bag over his shoulder before quickly jogging through the light rain to his apartment building

His research elective group had finished early in Houston on Thursday afternoon, and the students were given an opportunity to return home. Several students wanted to take advantage of what otherwise would have been their Spring Break, so they chose to stay and explore Space City.

Ethan, being a creature of habit, was ready to get home and get back into his daily routine. He hated living out of a suitcase, not to mention he missed his bed and home cooked meals. But most of all, he missed his girlfriend Tatum. Because their elective schedules ran at different times during the day, they weren't able to talk despite trying to exchange text messages. Tatum seemed to be having a difficult time about something–Ethan wasn't too sure, but he knew that coming home early to surprise her would make-up for all of the missed texts and phone calls.

Especially with what he was about to do.

Ethan finally reaches the covered porch to his home, shaking his head and arms to get rid of the excess rain droplets. He then checks his pockets to ensure he had everything with him: wallet, phone, keys.

And then his pulse begins to race, a crooked grin crawling across his stubbled chin. He had to check one more item… just one more time. He needs to make sure everything came back with him from his trip.

Setting his bag on the ground, Ethan unzips a secret side compartment that was holding a pair of socks nearly tucked away at the bottom of the pocket. After reaching in and grabbing them, he unrolls the socks carefully before reaching inside the reinforced toe to pull out a small, black velvet box.

He tenderly opens the lid, and a lump suddenly lodges in his throat as a stinging surge of tears hits his vision. He was doing this. He was actually doing this.

As he stares at the diamond solitaire, all he can see is his Tatum, and the bright and beautiful world they created together. He never realized he was lost until she found him; he never realized he was drowning until she taught him to breathe again. It's like he was blind, but because of her, everything is finally clear.

She's the one.

Ethan chuckles to himself as he closes the box, hearing his father's warning when he called to tell him that he was proposing to Tatum. "Don't fuck this up, Ethan J."

Shaking his head, he slips the box back into his duffle before using his keys to unlock the front door. He gently pushes it open, hoping not to wake up his future bride.

Walking into the darkened apartment, Ethan is greeted with the alluring essence of home– that is until he accidentally trips over a pair of boots.

A familiar pair of men's boots.

A pair that doesn't belong to him.

Suddenly a pained moan infiltrates the air followed by muffled sobs and groans. Tatum.

Was she… was she alright?

Ethan anxiously storms to his bedroom. He wasn't sure what he was about to walk in on. He knew something had happened to Tatum this week, something that really bothered her that spurred her to call and message him so many times even though they both knew they'd be out of commission.

Shit. An abrupt flash of guilt crashes through Ethan's body. Whatever she dealt with, was she up early, crying about it? Was she having nightmares about it? Maybe even terrors? He didn't realize it was that bad. Shit, if only he had known… he needs to hold her. And love on her. Now.

He pushes open the door.

And the wind tears wildly out of his lungs, his body paralyzed, completely abandoned of sound thought or response.

He blinks his eyes a few times, assured that something was wrong with his contacts. He can't be seeing this correctly.

It's too dark. He flips the overhead light on because surely–surely–he wasn't seeing things correctly.

But then she says his name.

In the most guilty, tear-ladened, shameful tone he has ever heard her utter.

Like a confession.

“Ethan?”

Time seems to halt as his heartbeat roars to life in his ears. A heavy weight presses into his chest as he begins to heave… and then gasp for air. Bile creeps up the back of his throat, his jaw souring with ache.

Ethan then abruptly keels over, hands on his knees, and begins to wretch.

[present...]

We should never have happened.

At least I keep trying to convince myself that.

Or maybe we should've…because it's better to have loved and loss… or some bullshit like that…

Goddammit, I hate her. I hate her so fucking much. For making me care, for making me vulnerable, for making me believe that this was different, that we were special.

And yet, here I am still thinking about her, wondering about her. Missing her.

She was my world. I gave her my everything; I shared with her parts of me that I was too stubborn, too scared, or too embarrassed to believe even existed.

Now, I'm left with a wound that is ripped open daily by my incessant, self-inflicted thoughts of her.

And yet, I'd let her break my heart all over again. If it meant I could smell her hair, feel each last strand pass through my fingertips, let wayward wisps catch in my lips as I kiss her? Just to have one more chance? Ruin me.

And then I'd beg her to stay with me forever.

And yet, I'd let her break my heart all over again, if it meant I could smell her hair just one more time. Are you kidding me? If I could just feel every last strand pass through my fingertips, let those soft wayward wisps catch in my lips as I kiss her just one more goddamn time? Please, just wreck me, ruin me. Destroy me.

Fuck, Ethan, what is wrong with you? I'm sick of this nightmare, of her evading my thoughts and my dreams. I'm sick of feeling my body betray me, my cock still responding to even just the mention of her name.

She cheated on you. She fucked your best friend, you idiot. Remember that next time you're fisting yourself in the shower, murmuring her name…

Jesus, I want to forget Tatum Erikson. I want to forget her smell, her taste. Now with our apartment gone, I just want–no, I need her gone from every thought, from every single fiber of my being.

She's… my past.

Shoving the hair tie in the trash, I grab my cleaning supplies and the apartment keys and head out to my hotel room. I have an early flight to catch in the morning followed by a pretty packed afternoon back in Boston. A hot shower and a good night's sleep is the perfect remedy after today.

If I can keep my hands to myself…

---

Thank God, that trip is over. As soon as we landed, I got my carryon, picked up my truck and headed back to my shared loft in the city. I feel a sense of absolution, like things are finally taken care of, finished, as if finally turning in the apartment key was the missing piece of moving on from… well, you know.

Here's to hoping…

I slept like shit last night…not that my dick minded. It got more attention than I intended on giving it in hopes of tiring myself out, both physically and mentally. Greedy little bastard…

Out of frustration, I gave in to temptation… and texted her this morning. Yes, I know it was stupid. It was really stupid, and it could possibly fuck me up further, not to mention it could really blur the lines between us. But to my surprise, she actually agreed to meet up with me at Donahue's for lunch.

Sure, let's create more problems, Ethan…

I arrive early at the bar, saying ‘hello’ to a few colleagues as I stop to grab a drink. After the past few days, not to mention the interaction I'm about to have, I feel like I've earned myself a drink or two, both as a reward and for courage.

"Hey, Dr. Ramsey!" The bartender smiles brightly, wiping down the bar. "The usual?"

"Hey, uh, yeah. Sure…" Ronnie? Ryan? Reggie? I'm a shit person. This guy knows my drink order, and I don't even have the decency to learn his first name.

"What brings you in during the lunch crowd, my good man?" He flips over a bottle, draining an amber-colored liquid in a tumbler.

"I, um," I stutter, pushing a hand in my pocket as I lean against the wooden ledge. "I'm meeting someone."

"Ohhhh," he nods as if I just told him a secret. He raises an eyebrow to me, "a lady friend?"

Guilty. "Sorta.”

He snickers, “an afternoon delight!”

I can feel the crimson crawling up my neck. “Uh, it's… it’s complicated."

"Ain't it always?" He twirls my glass towards me before dipping his head. "Good luck," he chuckles as he slides down the way to help another patron.

I give him a nod as I drop some cash towards his station. I take my drink and casually pull from it, enjoying the heated notes of citrus dancing on my tongue. Feeling the comforting burn, I survey the dimly lit area, recognizing a few other residents in other programs, but I keep to myself, waiting for her.

But then all of a sudden out of the corner of my eye, it's… fuck. It's her. Tatum. She's sitting at a table alone, fidgeting with a menu, looking every bit beautiful as she nervously combs and tosses her blonde waves with her fingers.

I smirk to myself. It's longer. I like it.

But there's something different about her, something I can't quite put my finger on. She's… sad. She has a staged smile on her pretty features, but there's a vacancy in her eyes; there's an emptiness in her demeanor, like she's broken, like she's… someone else. The Tatum I knew had a fire, a fierce joy that could ignite a room with one glance.

Is she… was this because…

Were we in the same boat? Is she miserable, still lost and sad over us? Over our break-up?

Oh, Tate baby…

Does she miss me like I miss her? Does she love me like I…?

Shit, what do I do? I can't just walk up to her, say, 'hello,' especially since all I want to do right now… is take her in my arms and hold her.

Would she let me take away the pain? Would she give me the chance–give us the chance to work things out? Could she forgive me?

Fuck…

Could I actually forgive her?

You're getting way ahead of yourself, Ethan…

I pinch the bridge of my nose before downing the rest of my drink. When I look back up, those glittering, ocean blue eyes are locked on me.

And fuck me… I can't stop myself.

I slowly start to walk towards her, a strange magnetism igniting my nerves as butterflies bloom in my chest.

Tate…

What will I say first? Should I hug her? No, you creep. I'll shake her hand. Are you for real? Hell, why am I so nervous? Breathe. Just say hi. And go from there. It's that simple. It's that…

But as I look up, I realize that things aren't that simple. Between Tatum and me? It would never be simple again.

Not with him around.

My eyes catch a glimpse of why she's here, rather whom she's here to see, and a sudden surge of anger erupts in my veins, my hands balling into fists.

Without sparing a second further, I turn on my heel, and walk towards the exit.

I'm not the fool this time. I refuse to be the fool. I'm not doing this again. God, how could I be so stupid? It was just one look from her and I…

I quickly dig out my phone, hitting the send button to redial the last message I sent. To her.

She answers on the first ring.

"Hey, Harper," I nonchalantly adjust my jeans. "Can we… meet somewhere else?"

----------

Tatum

"Hey, baby."

Tobias's mouth grazes my lips once, then twice, but my eyes remain trained on Ethan's back as he heads for the exit, leaving Donahue's.

And me. Again.

"Tatum? Earth to Tatum," he chuckles, waving his hand in front of my eyes, breaking my reverie. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." I blink back my unshed tears and force a smile. "I'm sorry, hey," I lace my arms around his neck, planting another kiss on his mouth in hopes he wouldn't notice my distraction. "How was your morning?"

Tobias runs his hand down his face in frustration. "Let's just say I'm glad to be here with you."

"Me too," I slip my hand into his. "Thank you… for inviting me out to lunch so we can, you know, spend some time together."

"Of course, baby," his expression grows serious as he tightens his grip around my fingers. "I know," he sighs, covering up our hands with his other palm. "I know I've been a jackass to you. And I'm… I'm really sorry, Tate. I’m not exactly used to this, let alone being in a relationship.” He sighs. “Life is just… changing, you know? So fast."

I playfully scoff into a smirk. "Tell me something I don't already know." Tobias wiggles his eyebrows, acknowledging that I have him beat when it comes to life changes–not that it's a competition. This was definitely not one I was hoping to win.

He grows somber, turning his gaze away from me. "You deserve better from me. I know that," his voice grows softer, "I've always known that."

"Tob," but… I don't know what else to say. Would my life be easier without him? Yes. Would my life be better without him? I… don't know.

It doesn't matter now.

I exhale slowly. "Do you… ever think that maybe we got a little ahead of ourselves?"

"No." He furrows his eyebrows, his thumb fidgeting with my ring as we fall into an awkward silence. "No," he says more assuredly, "I would do it again in a heartbeat."

And suddenly, a frigid chill wraps around me, guilt hitting me like a pit in my stomach. He would do it again in a heartbeat? Really?

Because me? I don't think I would.

He clears his throat, squeezing my fingers endearingly. "You know I love you, right?"

I slowly nod, the corner of my mouth curling into a crooked grin. He really is making an effort, more than what he has been doing since we moved to Boston. I should be happy that he's even trying to make a relationship work between us.

I look down at his large hands, and nod as a single tear falls free, sloping down my nose. He's trying, Tatum. He's not Ethan, but he's trying his best.

It's going to have to be enough.

"And I love you, too, my little princess," Tobias croons as he lays his hands on my pregnant belly, hidden under the table. The one thing that has tugged on my heart strings through all of this is watching this former playboy become a father. He’s really starting to come around. "Has she been moving around this morning?"

I nod, smiling at the thought of our growing daughter, kicking and doing somersaults. Maybe she'll be a gymnast someday, or even a dancer with these moves…

We're already halfway there and yet, my mind can't seem to wrap around the idea that what I'm feeling, what is developing and moving inside me is an actual human baby. According to one of my baby books, she's now about the size of an artichoke. I honestly don't know how big an artichoke is, but judging by the sudden shift of my stomach in the past two weeks and having absolutely no pants that fit me anymore, that is one humongous artichoke.

Tobias and I have made some mistakes and questionable life decisions in the past six months, but this little girl, the small flutters she gives me daily gives me an unexplainable joy, a hope that something beautiful can still be born from darkness.

It has to.

We grab a quick bite, satisfying my craving for all things cheesy and dipped in ranch dressing before preparing to head out for the afternoon. Tobias thoughtfully helps me stand from the table, giving my tummy another tender caress before placing a kiss on my cheek. I'm still fairly independent; even though I already feel quite large, I haven't quite reached the stage of needing assistance.

But I don't tell Tobias this. I actually think telling him would hurt him. He's terrified and unsure about a lot right now, but one thing he's becoming very good at is protecting me. The rest will come with time and maturity. I just need to keep reminding myself: he is trying.

"Ready for this 20-week anatomy scan?"

He also comes to all of my appointments now. He's going to be a father.

I chuckle, unable to contain my excitement. I gently glide my fingers across the expanse of my belly before cradling it. "I can't wait to hear that beautiful heartbeat."

"Me, too." He kisses me before lacing his fingers with mine to leave the bar.

And maybe this is a lesson motherhood is teaching me: having a good day doesn't mean everything has to be perfect; rather it's me changing my outlook in seeing the potential of what's to come.

I miss Ethan. Terribly. And I might always love him.

But I have a man right here by my side who is vowing to fight to change who he is to be the man I need him to be, and that our daughter needs him to be. Because he loves me. And maybe someday, I will love him, too.

I might not see the whole picture just yet, but I have to believe something beautiful will come out of this.

I had a feeling about today; it's going to be a good day.

Right?

~🖤~

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~🖤~

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

~🖤~

TRIGGER WARNING: Discussion of unplanned pregnancy

#like ships in the night #unloving you #open heart #choices open heart #choices oph #ethan ramsey x f!oc #tobias carrick x f!oc #tatum erikson #ethan x tatum #tathan

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sirenzserenity · 8 months

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Unloving you..

Unloving you is so hard to do,

It's like trying to fight the rising tide

It's like catching the moon or

Telling the stars not to shine.

- Anson Seabra

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dreamluminosity · 11 months

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Photos I got of Anson Seabra, Alec Benjamin & Jonah Kegan at the Lafayette in London {The Wonderland Tour, 15.5.23}

watch the video I got here.

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amaranthinepoetess · 1 year

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Unloving You

I did not unlove you instantly,

Although I wish that I did.

It took years of pain and heartache,

To let you go, and let myself live.

I unloved you in the moments

When I cried out for your touch.

You showed me I was unimportant,

That I wasn't worthy of your love.

I unloved you with every little lie

That passed between your lips.

When you told me it was nothing,

But I had seen the evidence.

I unloved you with every insult

You used to break me apart.

Your angry words echoed in my mind,

And left scars upon my heart.

I unloved you every single night

That I cried myself to sleep,

Wondering what I had done so wrong,

And why you couldn't just love me.

I did not unlove you overnight,

I unloved you slowly over time.

All the pain you put me through,

Aided me in leaving you behind.

In the moments that I unloved you,

I started to reclaim my life.

With each piece of you that I let go,

The more I began to shine.

The more that I unloved you,

More clearly I began to see,

I have never been unworthy of love,

It was you who was unworthy of me.

©A. Lee

#poetry #spilled ink #poets on tumblr #writing #writers on tumblr #unloving you

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liriorachel · 10 months

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Twelve hundred miles just so I could say, "I love you"

‘Unloving you’ by Anson Seabra is about the bittersweet emotions involved in a breakup. The main character is having trouble moving past his previous relationship with his partner, who has already moved on. During their long-distance relationship, he recalls the times he went above and beyond to be there for her and the times he traveled to visit her. But even though he understands that he must move on, doing so feels like an insurmountable challenge. He breaks down, pleading for assistance and expressing his loss of his companion.

The highlights are how things may get challenging after a breakup, when one side is OK while the other finds it impossible to move on despite all the effort made to make things work. The song is well-rounded by the dramatic instrumentals that support it.

On Twitter, Seabra posed a question to his followers regarding their favorite lines from the song. Fan responses included sentences that hit home for them. Seabra also shows off his songwriting prowess with a blend of sincere, from-the-heart expressions of words and metaphors that mirror his emotions.

#anson seabra #Unloving you #sad thoughts #musicindustry #music #Spotify

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escapetoaesthetics · 1 year

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"Loving can be painful at times. But it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."

I'm not sure how many people would agree with me on this, but I'd rather save myself from the heartbreak that follows by not loving them then. Being lost and finding myself again is a difficult task; I'd rather stay unloved and found. As someone who experiences extreme emotions, I would rather love someone from afar than love someone up close and watch them turn into a stranger slowly.

#relationship #unloving you

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camilapgoez · 1 year

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I really really love you so much, I want you so bad in my life but... You don't want to be with me

#unloving you #love #Ex #heart #im broke #bye

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b-r-itt · 2 years

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You already made me feel sick

But now.. damn you turned me fucking terminally ill.

#i'm so fucking angry #heartbreak #unloving you #fuck you #i hate you #anger

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wtfispatiencee · 2 years

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would you love me if i was someone else?

would you hold me if i was softer?

smaller?

prettier?

would you look at me if i was him?

when you look at me do you se me? or do you see what you want to see?

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graceless-world · 2 years

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I can't allow myself to fall in love again.

The pain is too much to bare...

#heartbreak #hurt #feeling unloved #unloving you

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hellsbarnes · 2 years

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୨ 𝙪𝙣𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 (1) ₊˚ପ⊹ 𝙗.𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 • 𝙨.𝙧𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨 ୧

pairing: fwb!bucky barnes x avenger!fem!reader x steve rogers (love triangle)

summary: when bucky breaks your heart, choosing dot over you, you are left to pick up to pieces, finding comfort in steve’s arms, until bucky realizes he still loves you.

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors do not interact, p in v sex, friends with benefits situation, mentions of casual sex, so much angst, heartbreak

word count: 1.4k

author’s note: hello sweethearts! this is the first chapter of this series and i hope that it is good and that you enjoy it! please remember to reblog, thank you so, so much! also, let me know if you would like me to continue the series!

tags are open!

“Bucky, please,” you plead, watching as the brunette puts his pants back on, breathless as he grabs his black shirt, clearly not wanting to stay in your room, with you a second longer, at least not after what you had just said mere minutes ago.

You make the mistake of slipping your fingers around his wrist, tears staining your cheeks as you tried to once more, shamelessly beg him to stay with you, you couldn’t imagine what you would go through without him.

“Bucky,” you choked out and he simply pulls his arm away from you, his jaw clenching as he finally turns to face you, the sight of you, eyes puffy with redness, tears uglily streaming down your cheeks, lips quivering as you put down the last shred of what dignity you had left barely did a thing to him, if anything it probably made him even more heartless, given the fact he simply stared you down, his blue irises dark with what seemed like anger and apathy as he shakes his head, clearly not having nor wanting to take time to deal with your pleas.

“I was clear as hell when we first started this (Y/N),” He says, his voice cold as ice, ice that made you shiver in the thought of ever losing him like this, you struggle to get a hold of yourself, breathing as you whisper, “Bucky, please, I-I didn’t mean to-”

“Mean to what? Mean to have feelings for me? Whatever this is, or was, there was supposed to be no strings attached (L/N)!” he retorts, almost bellowing as he pulls his shirt back on.

You had not been thinking when you said when you did, no you weren’t even thinking at all, how could you, with Bucky pressing open mouthed kisses along the skin of your neck, his hands gripping your waist so tightly that he was just going to cover the purple marks he left on your skin yesterday with today’s. He sounded so angelic with his moans, you had your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your ankles digging into his back, eyes half lidded as Bucky thrust into you, sending you spiralling into euphoria, the brunette groaning as he empties himself in you, he was still balls deep in you when It had all happened, and it was your fault.

“I love you” you had said softly, your fingers running through his hair as you both came down from high, and that was all it took for you to lose the warmth of his body as he moved away, barely giving you time to realise or even process what had just slipped from your lips. God, you were an idiot, at least that was what you said in your head as you stood up, pleading for him to stay, or at least listen to you, it was just a slip of the tongue you had said, digging out every fucking reason you had to make him just stay a minute longer, to not give the look that read the word hatred as he gets up from your bed.

“Are you really expecting me to believe that?” he had demanded and you had breathed shakily as you got up. You never in a million damn years wanted him to find out about your feelings for him. It had grown over the span of more than a year, you couldn’t help yourself, no, you weren’t fast enough to stop yourself from falling into the trap called love that you knew would only check you into heartbreak hotel.

You knew and yet you fell so damn hard for his ocean blue eyes, boyish grin and the damn words he’d say to you. When he asked you about this arrangement, fuck buddies or friends with benefits you had hopped onto the train too fast to even think about what you had landed yourself in.

Once again, thinking with your heart instead of your head, you dived headfirst into whatever Bucky had to offer. You had allowed yourself to drown in the man called Bucky Barnes, relishing in every kiss that he planted on your skin, everytime his lips met yours so feverishly, you only sank deeper, kissing back passionately, thinking that if you continued whatever you two had, maybe, just maybe, Bucky might realise his feelings for you, he would, in a fantasy world you had imagined, become your prince, holding you close as he tells you he loves you too.

“D-do you not have feelings for m-me?” you managed to say as the brunette prepares to walk away, and for once, a selfish part of you wishes that he would perhaps maybe put your feelings first, but that was shut down almost immediately as he sighs almost as if he was so tired of having to speak to you, to have any sort of interaction with you.

“I think I made it clear, it is impossible between us (Y/N)-”

“The whole time we were fucking, y-you, didn’t feel a thing?” you asked, choking back on tears as he shakes his head, and maybe his eyes did hold some form of pity for you, pitying the fact that you had actually fallen for him, stupidly constructing some idea your feelings were being reciprocated. You believed because you saw it in his every smile, and here you were, left with nothing, the little hope you had buried in your crushed mercilessly.

“Is there someone else?” you continued softly, his silence was the only answer you needed as your bottom lip trembled, tears welling in your eyes as you struggled to accept his answer, as if the universe wanted to knock into you the fact that you just weren’t good enough to make the man you so wholeheartedly love to stay, to build a relationship with you.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said, not bothering to spare you as much as another look as he opens the door of your bedroom, walking out, and the second he did, it all came crashing down on your already broken self, you cried, your body shaking as you lose every shred of control you have had over your emotions that you had tried to damn hard to cover up since day one of starting this with Bucky.

You were a mess, sobbing uncontrollably as you grabbed the soft pillow that he always used, his scent stained the pillowcase, reminding you of all the times that he had lied in your bed, tracing circles over your shoulders as you prayed silently that he would stay the night. Your prayers were never answered because he would leave soon after you cleaned up, you felt worthless, unwanted as you choke back on tears that threatened to fall once more.

Perhaps, what you had thought of yourself was the truth, you bite your lip, trying to somehow stop the tears from falling, “p-please come back” you sob, you never meant to fall for Bucky, no you hadn’t even seen it coming and when you did, it was too late, you were already knee deep in the hole that you had dug for yourself.

When he came close to you, your heart skipped a beat, when he smiled at you widely after he scored the biggest penguin soft toy at the carnival last christmas, you swore you combusted, heart racing, palms clammy as you shyly accepted his gift, your stomach doing flips as he returned your hug, and secretly you had jumped for the joy, believing it to somehow fit into the love story that you had thought would come true the day he asked you if you’d agree to his deal.

It was what you thought to be real, in the books that you had so often buried your nose in, you saw whatever you and Bucky had to be real, and with every time he had thrust into you, his hands roaming, breaths bated, you had wanted to so badly say the three words that you always had on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t, and when Bucky was done, he’d cleaned up, maybe stay for ten minutes before leaving you, alone in your bedroom.

Yes, you had believed that your feelings could be reciprocated, a belief that you could not be more wrong about, because the truth was simple, it was right in front of you all this time, and while you hear the universe burst out into laughter at your sheer stupidity, you realised that he never loved you.

At least not in the way you loved him.

note: thank you so much for reading, if you would like a chapter 2, let me know! remember to reblog!

taglist: @missvelvetsstuff (tags are open, drop me an ask or fill in my taglist form!)

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shadowtraveled · 1 month

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#dungeon meshi spoilers #mithrun #dungeon meshi #this has been rotating for a while but i wanted to check my evidence before getting into it thanks user angelspenance for posting that meme #half of this is just the text and the other half i'm sure has been said before but it's making my brain [radio static] so here this is #someone did for sure mention this but i do find it very cute that in his fucked up conjured world meant to portray his ideal reality #his teammates came to visit him. like part of the fantasy was then explicitly that they cared about him and were his friends. even though #he says he tried to see the worst in them.#hm it does feel important to note that i do also believe 100% in mithrun suicidality--his desire to be eaten does seem to focus a lot on #wanting it to be Over. wanting not to be left incomplete and empty anymore.#but that loops back around a bit to the hole in your heart that appears when you feel unloved. it's many things and the same thing at once #snakes #long post #severe problems #meshy

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