#***hurt
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support · 11 years ago
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Everything okay?
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone. There are many support services that are here to help. For 24/7 peer support and other resources, message KokoBot on Tumblr.
If you are in the United States, please try:
National Suicide and Crisis Lifeline or dial 988 or (en Español)
The Trevor Project (LGBT crisis intervention) or dial 1-866-488-7386
Trans Lifeline or dial 1-877-565-8860 (en Español)
The National Domestic Violence Hotline or 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)
Rape Abuse & Incest National Network or 1-800-656-HOPE (4673)
S.A.F.E. Alternatives for Stopping Self Abuse or 1–800-DONT-CUT (366–8288)
National Eating Disorders Association
If you are outside the United States, visit IASP to find resources for your country.
For more resources, please visit our Counseling & Prevention Resources page for a list of services that may be able to help.
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moonyinthestars · 1 day ago
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I could look at his face all day 🥺 oh, to love and be love by Jason Todd ❤️
will you hold me instead, and tell me that it's over now?
i look forward to a little me and you, so now i hope that you don't tell me that it's over
or; patching jason up after an intense mission [2.1k]
jason todd x fem!reader; angst/fluff; brief mentions of human trafficking and allusion to murder (he's talking about how the mission went); mention of his scars; jason being insecure & thinking he's not good enough😞; description of injuries and the first aid applied to them (please do not take anything as actual medical advice); this is me hard-launching my physical touch x touch starved!jason agenda
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You don’t know how early it is when you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing, just that it’s too early. It’s not like you could sleep anyway; you spent the night drifting in and out of semi-consciousness, too worried to let yourself relax. You always got like this when Jason went away on missions. Several days, and sometimes even weeks, spent anxiously anticipating the state in which he would return home—you haven’t been able to get a manicure since before you met him.
You’re still a little delirious when a hand ghosts up your arm, stirring you from your half-sleep. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room and register the sight in front of you. Your boyfriend is on one knee on the floor in front of you, brushing strands of hair out of your face with endearing eyes.
“There she is,” he says when you lift your head off the pillow and reach out to him. He catches your hand and kisses your fingertips, spreading a warmth up your arm that combats the midnight chill. You push yourself up to a sitting position, and he takes the opportunity to cup his hands around your face and bring you in for a kiss.
“Missed you,” you mumble against him, and his lips curve upwards against yours.
“Missed you too, sweetheart.” His mouth travels up from yours towards your temple, leaving a path of gentle kisses in his wake. Your palms, pressed flat against his chest, slide up to loop around his neck. He tenses, choking back a strained grunt. But you catch it.
You pull back abruptly. “Are you hurt?” Your eyes frantically dart around, scanning his entire body. Now fully alert, you reach over to the bedside table and switch the lamp on.
“’s just a bruise, baby, I’m fine.” A hand comes up to shield his eyes from the sudden brightness. But with newly unobstructed vision, you can see more than just a bruise. He has a busted lip, a shallow gash on his temple, and splotches of purple and red peeking out of his shirt collar.
“You’re bleeding, Jason,” you chastise him, getting up off the bed.
He stands alongside you with a huff. “It’s nothing,” he sighs. “Doesn’t even hurt.” But when you take his hand and start pulling him to the bathroom, he follows without argument. You lead Jason to sit down on the edge of the tub and fetch the first aid kit from under the sink, setting it down next to him on the bathtub ledge. You stand between his legs, your positions making you a half-head taller than him. He gazes up at you and for the first time tonight you notice how dark and deep the skin under his eyes is.
“Off,” you order, dragging up the hem of his shirt. He helps you pull it off, wincing when it requires him to lift his bruised arm.
“Someone’s eager,” he muses, raising his eyebrows in a teasing manner. It earns him a swat on the arm; he grunts loudly and doubles over in pain.
You gasp. “Oh my god! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I—”
But when he looks up, it’s with a coy smirk and a twinkle in his eye. You swat him again.
“Asshole,” you mutter, but you can’t help the slight twitch at the corner of your lips. “Why didn’t you take care of this earlier? Alfred wasn’t at the manor to help you?”
He shrugs his good shoulder. “Don’t know. Came straight here.”
“Did you tell anyone where you were going?” You ask.
He looks at you blankly, as if to say, don’t you know who you’re talking to?
You sigh, exasperated. “You shouldn’t have done that, Jason. What if ended up becoming serious? And you didn’t make it here in time? What if—” 
He interrupts your doom spiral by pressing a finger to your lips. “I know, honey, I’m sorry. But I wanted to see you.”
You sigh. There’s a sadness to it, one that comes from familiarity with the fact that he does not care for himself as much as he should—as much as he deserves. But there are no words to make him believe it that you haven’t tried, so all you do is lean your forehead against his, hoping he can hear the what you don’t say. You need him to hear you.
“You’re not sorry,” you whisper.
“No, I’m not,” he whispers back.
You start with his shoulder, which was decidedly not ‘just a bruise,’ but actually several bruises, all clumped together to form one giant Franken-bruise that covered his entire shoulder. It gets rubbed with ointment and you’re not sure who it pains more, because while you’re spilling out frantic apologies as you try to speed through it, Jason is white-knuckling the edge of the tub with a wad of gauze between his teeth. 
His lip doesn’t require any medical attention, but he insists you kiss it better anyway, and who are you to deny him? 
You tend to his temple last, but he’s antsy now. His leg bounces up and down, one hand is drumming its fingers on the tub, and the other is fiddling with the loose threads that hang from the hem of your shirt; you have to scold him into sitting still.
“Where’s the dermabond?” You ask, sifting through the contents of the first aid kid.
“Used it up last month, remember? After you just had to feed that fuckin’ squirrel.” His voice is gruff at the recollection. “Should be a new pack under the sink.”
You fetch the new box, picking at the plastic wrapping. “Can you blame me? He was so cute.”
“Yeah, was. Until that greedy fucker decided he wanted the whole picnic.” Jason sees you struggling with the plastic covering and takes it from you, breaks it open, then hands it back. “Bastard.”
You giggle. “You know, you could’ve just let him have the cupcake. It wasn’t worth risking rabies for.” You fish out the glass tube of surgical glue, tossing its cardboard box aside.
“‘Course it was. My girl wanted red velvet, she should get her red velvet.” Jason’s hands finally rest on the backs of your bare thighs, squeezing them lightly. He grins when that makes you let out a little squeak.
You roll your eyes, though there’s a warmth flowing in your veins that courses from the tips of your ears to the bottom of your feet. “My hero,” you muse with a smile.
There’s a pause. Then:
“I’m not a hero,” he responds. His tone is still light, but his eyes feel far away.
You start to clean the blood from the wound, which has since clotted and dried, with a saline-soaked cotton pad. He stares at you while you clean and then close the cut with the glue. And when you finish, supplies set aside and glue cured, he’s still staring. His eyes are traveling all over your face, taking in each feature, committing every ridge, every angle, every pore, every freckle to memory. The light-hearted teasing demeanor from mere moments ago is long gone. You're a deer caught in emerald headlights.
You recognize this shift. You noticed hints of it since he arrived home, but assumed it was just due to the pain. Now it’s obvious that there’s more. It’s the same shift that comes when the news becomes a circus, or when he stares at his scars in the mirror for too long.
His hands slide up your body slowly, reverently. One stops at your waist while the other continues, blazing a trail up your ribcage, over the side of your breast. He pauses at your shoulder for a split second, squeezing the flesh every so gently before continuing up your neck. His thumb drags across your collarbone, brushing against the spot that always lights up your senses and parts your lips in a breathy sigh. He stops when he reaches your face. He cups your cheek. Your hand covers his and you lean into his hold, the stroke of your small, soft fingers juxtaposing the rough callouses of his knuckles. You stay here for a moment before turning to press your lips to his palm once, twice, thrice, four times, each one lingering a little longer than the last.
“What is it, Jason?” Your hands come to cradle his neck before dragging up to his hair, and his move to wrap around your torso and pull you closer into him. You place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Hmm?”
“I’m not a hero,” he says again, softer.
“Jay,” you whisper. “You know that’s not true.”
He says nothing, only heaving a heavy sigh and burying his face into the crook of your neck. You’re content to stand like this, to simply hold him and graze your nails against his scalp for as long as he needs while he inhales the comforting scent of your skin.
After what could have been one minute or twenty, he pulls back to look up at you. He looks exhausted. “It was a human trafficking case,” he says. “They knew we were closing in on ‘em, so we had to act fast. They were…trying to…” He trails off, unsure how to put it in words delicate enough to spare you. He breaks eye contact. “Destroy the evidence,” he finishes.
You don’t respond. Despite the heavy silence that follows this admission, you know he’s not done. It takes another several minutes of stroking fingers and feather-light hairline kisses to coax it out of him.
“There was a woman. She…we didn’t—“ His voice cracks. “I didn’t get there in time.”
“Oh, honey.” You run your palm over his forehead, pushing back his thick waves. His eyelids slide down over glassy irises as he sinks into your touch. You lean down to press your lips to his forehead. “You know that’s not your fault,” you whisper. He shakes his head, eyes still closed.
“But if I’d just—”
“No, Jason.” You grip his face between your palms. He opens his eyes at the sudden sternness. “But nothing. You did everything you possibly could—”
“You don’t know that,” he interrupts.
“I do know that. I know because you are always doing everything you can. For me, and for everyone in this city. And I know that it wasn’t just you on that mission. Do you blame anyone else for what happened?”
He says nothing, but his eyes are welling with tears.
“You saved so many other people, Jason. You are a hero, and you know that. You have to know that.” Some of his tears spill over, but you brush your thumbs across his cheeks and kiss them away.
He pulls you onto his lap so your legs are straddled over his and rests his head against your sternum. His arms squeeze impossibly tight around your waist, but you don’t say anything. When his shoulders tremble and you feel the dampness on the front of your shirt, you still don’t say anything. And when he places a hand on the back of your head to pull you in for a hard, searing kiss that leaves you both breathless, you don’t say anything. You just look at him, at how pretty he is, and hope that he can hear you.
The sounds of buzzing echo in from the next room. To your dismay, he turns away, towards the direction of your phones. “I should get that,” he says. His voice is hollow. “It’s probably the bats wanting to know where I am. They’ll send a search party if I don’t check in.”
He’s about to move you off his lap, but you stop him. “In a minute, Jay.”
Jason’s forehead crinkles. You use your thumb to smooth it out.
“Please?” You breathe out. “Just let me look at you a little longer. I love looking at you.”
He relaxes back into his seat. And you keep looking at him. At his beautifully rosy cheeks and shining eyes, his puffed lips. The scar that runs diagonally down his slightly crooked nose.
It’s dawn now; the tangerine beginnings of sunrise elicit a soft glow that spills through the window. Jason takes it all in. The two of you together in the home you share, arms around each other, your face all honeyed and beautiful in the light.
And you know he can hear you.
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love when you guys leave messages/feedback it really brightens up my day<3
divider is from here
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itchyarts · 1 day ago
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I've still yet to watch a Hero show where the villains actually had THIS much unused potential inside their own canon, I never wondered why there was so much fanfiction back in the day. Gabriella you're my only hope. I am living for the day we get the breakdown.
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worthless-misery · 2 days ago
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Dear diary...
I think the only way I could ever feel any comfort is by numbing myself of all thoughts and emotions.
All they ever do is hurt me, more and more each day.
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momentsbeforemass · 20 hours ago
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Forgiveness is hard
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Forgiveness is hard.
And the reason why it’s hard says a lot about us.
Because there’s something in us that likes to hold on to the wrongs that have been done to us. Not that we want to be hurt again by whatever it was that needs to be forgiven (although that’s what holding on to it does to us).
But because we can use being on the receiving end of something that needs to be forgiven as leverage, as an excuse.
Now we’ve got a reason why things didn’t work out. Why what we always wanted to do didn’t happen. Why we never quite did it.
We were going to. We would have done it. But then it happened, whatever it was that needs to be forgiven.
Even if we never consciously say any of that, until we forgive. Until we let go of it. Part of us will be acting as if we believed every word of it.
Let me be clear - I’m not talking about ignoring the things that have hurt you.
When you and I are hurt, we need to deal with what hurt us. Grieve what was lost. Clean up the mess. Get help.
What I’m talking about is taking the thing that hurt you, whatever it was that needs to be forgiven, and holding on to it. Dragging it out time and again. Revisiting it. Reliving it.
And by unthinkingly replaying it over and over, moving into that event (one that, with a moment’s thought, you would never intentionally revisit again) and buying furniture.
Even if we don’t mean to, holding onto whatever it was that needs to be forgiven, is one of the most effective ways to isolate ourselves.
To become lost in the thing that hurt us, will, in the end, separate us from everyone. Including God.
Which is why Jesus is so adamant in today’s Gospel about the need to forgive.
Not because whoever it was who hurt you deserves, well, anything.
But because God loves you too much to want anything – or anyone – to keep hurting you. Including you.
Today’s Readings
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queen-of-the-inbetween · 2 days ago
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My spotify playlist of covers. I'm aware it sounds somewhat spiteful.
“Johnny Cash’s Hurt” i’m falling to my knees and beating my fists on the ground. Trent Reznor didn’t serve cunt and suffer teenaged girl levels of angst in the nineties writing that song for nothing.
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I'm proud of you for making it this far.
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bread4innie · 1 year ago
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me: i love reading angst
me reading angst:
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fvckinsociety · 1 year ago
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Wouldn't mind dying in my sleep tonight.
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reignpage · 1 month ago
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You Cheated (or did you?)
Smau: in which you cheat on the jjk men Warning: cursing, angst, hurt/no comfort, infidelity, threat of death Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Choso, Nanami, Sukuna Pt 2
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Hurt myself with this one lol
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cottoncandyofterror · 2 months ago
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I’m aliiiive!
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And I’m bringing the gift of way too long movie scene redrawings!
This is from the terrific movie „Your name engraved herein“ and it’s just ❤️
Okay, bye! *goes back into hiding*
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iforgive · 5 months ago
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whumpschild · 2 months ago
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I think he needs stitches
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i-will-write · 2 months ago
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Me, asking for prompt for my newest blorbo:
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worthless-misery · 11 months ago
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Dear diary...
The fact that I'm still "alive" in 2024 just feels like a huge mistake...
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thesilmarillionblog · 6 months ago
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𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u
Series Masterlist is here.
Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.
Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader
Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, heartless Soldier Boy, reader gets hurt, mention of violence, mention of drugs, betrayal, Soldier Boy being a dick, reader is a supe, Crimson Countess is a bitch
Word Count: 1796
A/N: English is not my first language.
* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.
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“Get lost fuckface and bring me a coffee,” Ben said telling the the poor guy who was trying his best to make Soldier Boy happy till the broadcast start.
The announcement of the new Payback member to the American public was scheduled for today. The company's executives had already made the decision to bring on a new employee, despite the fact that the team already had enough members. Everyone on the team opposed this idea, with the exception of Soldier Boy and you, but nothing changed.
You didn't mind if a new person joined the team because they were assigning Soldier Boy all tasks, regardless of importance, and you could see he was growing more and more irate with each passing day. Given that Black Noir was the team's second-strongest member, it was obvious Soldier Boy didn't appreciate the concept of being used for insignificant tasks constsantly. It was obvious that the team definitely required one more strong member.
“You don’t have to be so rude to those people,” you murmered as you approached Ben. "They are all scared of you already.”
Ben chuckled as he sat down and sniffed the white dust, saying, “I am not familiar with the concept of princess treatment, sweetheart, and nobody respects a pussy leader; keep that in mind.”
You sighed knowing he would never change his attitude just because you told him to. He pulled you to his lap and gave you a quick and firm kiss, silencing you before you argue with him.
All of you were taken aback when a new supe was introduced because you hadn't seen her before. She smiled and gave a short but impactful speech about how she would benefit America and its citizens. She looked nice and strong with her red suit and long red hair.
You were only made to feel worse by the fact that everyone was rooting for Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess every day, and their fan base became stronger over time. The current Crimson Countess stood on the side where you used to stand. They were singing together in ads while standing side by side and hand in hand, which was keeping you up at nights. The growing distance between you and Ben was eating you alive.
He hardly ever visited or spoke to you during the day, despite the fact that he used to spend the night with you in the past. There were moments when you tried to talk to him about what was going on, but he waved you off right away, saying he had things to do and couldn't be seen with any other woman but the Countess.
You were frequently questioned about their relationship, and you smiled while telling the cameras that they were lucky to have found each other and that they were strong together. If only they were aware of your true feelings.
Even though Ben continued to treat Noir rudely, which greatly upset and angered you, the rest of the crew was glad that Soldier Boy had finally become distracted. This was because they had been mistreated and bullied by him less than in the past. You two had heated disagreements over Noir as well in the past, but Ben consistently ignored your emotions and ideas. Now that Crimson also supported him about how he should treat the team made your blood boil with hatred and agony.
Noir remarked, removing his mask, “I can't do this, Y/N. I refuse to bow to him and put up with the way he treats me.”
You walked up to him and touched his back to get him to turn to face you. “What do you mean?” you questioned.
“I’m saying he is not worthy of being a leader.” Noir paced violently and stated, “All he does is get high with Crimson and bully me and everyone around him. He left you aside too.”
Though you knew he didn’t mean to hurt you, his words cut deep and silenced you for a second.
“Don’t do something crazy, Noir. You hear me?” You asked, ignoring his thoughts about Ben leaving you. “You know his short temper.”
Noir was always kind and kind, so you were surprised to see him so furious, but you knew he was right about everything, and Ben seemed to be getting worse and more distant every day as his connection with Countess took shape right before your eyes. You seemed to be deceiving yourself all along when you told yourself that their relationship wasn't real.
“I don’t know. Someone must do something about this.”
“You don’t stand a chance against him,” you said as you grasped his arms tightly. “I’ll talk to him, okay. I’ve got this, I promise.”
Noir gave you a nod before he put the mask on, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You waited patiently until you learned Ben would be alone tonight because Crimson would be going on a mission. Your heart raced when you entered his house without saying anything. He must have heard the noises you made already, because he turned to you immediately and did not look surprised to see you.
“Hi,” you whispered, not knowing how to react around him anymore.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked as he sat down in the coach after. He was high on cocaine.
As you walked up to him, you gave him a disappointed expression, but the way he looked stopped you. In the past, you were close every second, but those days are long in the past now.
“What’s wrong with you?” Your eyes were watery as you asked. It seemed like you would explode at any moment.
“Are fucking on your period? Why so sensitive?” His smile infuriated you, and he laughed as if something amusing had happened. There was something very punchable about his face.
“Why do you still treat Noir like a fucking jackass? He follows your instructions to the letter, and you are simply being disrespectful to him and the team as a whole.” You spoke angrily, as if you wanted him to share your feelings of rage. You wanted to wipe that foolish smile off his face.
His body abruptly shifted, giving you a menacing glance and raising his finger in your direction. “Don't fucking give me some advise. Who the fuck are you? You do realize that I am the fucking boss here, don't you?”
He hasn't been this angry with you in a long time, so you were surprised by his harsh remarks. It seemed like he hated you as he spat those words.
You yelled back, “I don't even know the man I'm talking to anymore,” at which point your tears finally fell. “Since Crimson entered your life, you have changed, Ben. She fucking hates you; she doesn't even love you. Don’t you see it?”
He was eventually enraged by your screams at him, and he stood in front of you with hate in his eyes. Your heart pained when you saw him staring at you like that, with eyes full of anger and fury.
“Do you know what I'm going to do?” He asked softly, as if he were just saying something kind. “I'm fucking gonna kill that masked pussy Noir and fucking make sure you watch through it.”
His cold words frozen you, and your eyes widened seeing he meant every word he said.
You shoved him away by his chest and sobbed, “If you ever touch Noir, I swear I'll cut Countess’ bitch head and throw it to your fucking thick skull.”
You were aware that nothing or no one could stop Ben from doing what he wanted to do, and that you might be the reason Noir was put to death or anything like. Your pulse raced upon witnessing Ben's unexpected outburst of rage against Noir.
Judging by his face, it was clear he was taken aback by your sharp words. You’ve never talked in athreatening way before with anyone. Your sigh and sobbing were the only things that filled the pregnant silence in the room.
“Ben,” you said softly, trying to reach again one more time, and you touched his face, hoping he wouldn’t push your hands back. To your surprise, he didn’t make a move. You looked him into the eyes between your tears and said, “I am the only one who truly loves you. Not her, not anyone else. Just me. What happened to us?”
You waited for him to answer you after you gave him a firm kiss, showing your love and care for him, but he didn’t kiss you back. Instead, he pushed your hands away from his face, with an unreadable look on his face.
“Why are you being selfish?” he asked, breaking the silence, almost irritated by your kindness toward him. “People love seeing me and her together. Duty fucking comes first.”
“You don’t owe love to her just to be loved by people you don’t even know,” you said, trying to convince him he didn’t have to do something he didn’t want to.
“How the fuck do you know I’m doing this for people only?”
“What do you mean?” you asked, as your heart skipped for a moment.
“Maybe I’m fed up with your soft attitude, and I want to be with her. How about that?” He said he was giving you an insidious smile.
With a heavy heart, you stepped back from him as more tears dropped from your cheeks. There was no point trying to convince Ben for your love while he didn’t give a fuck about it at all and the one he wanted was actually Countess.
“Is that what you want?”
“It fucking is,” he said, sitting down in the coach and keeping sniffing cocaine, like the conversation meant nothing to him and he wanted you to be gone.
Before leaving his house, you turned him one last time, saying, “She’ll betray you, Ben. I don’t know if I see that day, but you’ll see it.”
Next Chapter
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A/N: Well, that was a one shot, but let me know if you think that I should make it multi-chapters. Comments are appreciated, hehehe. <33
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