#8255

[banyun-gong]

Sofia Paiva 麥嘉欣 @sofiavdsp

#8,255

[every-tome]

[hisclockworkservants]

SCP-8255

SCP-8255 - Pentapedal Entity (Unconfirmed) by Aleph-Null: https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8255

[archduchessofnowhere]

Archduchess Hedwig of Austria-Tuscany as a child, by György Vastagh, 1898.

Via Neumeister

[ladythatsmyskull]

National Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255

[trexalicious]

All gave some, some gave all...🙏💔

This Memorial Day weekend please remember and honor those who have served...Freedom isn't free!

[see-arcane]

What is there to say?

I am afraid. I am angry.

For the second time this country has shamed itself and put the world in jeopardy from its example. Other monsters will be empowered and run ahead with their own nations. Now, short of a miracle which I do not hold my breath for, we must hold on for four years to see if one of Trump’s infinite ugly promises holds true—will we even get to have a presidential election in the future? Supposing we do, can we even trust that our fellow Americans won’t damn us again?

I am afraid. I am angry.

Sickness and blame boil in me. I did everything I could. I voted, I informed, I pleaded. I know that my friends have too. But the news tells me it was not just the electoral college that failed us, but the popular vote. Which tells me that we live surrounded by more ignorance and hate than I ever expected. We live in a country where eligible voters are steeped in an ideology that aligns enough with the poison of Project 2025 that it makes me fear to trust anyone—anyone—around me ever again. And it makes me wonder, in light of the turnout, how many people stayed at home and simply chose not to vote. Chose not to sully themselves with the effort of choosing the lesser evil. I am looking at you. We are all looking at you. Do you feel smart now? Do you feel superior? Do you plan to pat your back today for ‘teaching them a lesson?’ Do you have a plan to save us? To save the rest of the world from the ripple of this? Tell me you do. I’m listening.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I am not prophesizing doom. But I have a memory that goes back at least eight whole years. I understand the concepts of hindsight and foresight. I know that everything the Republicans say they wish to do to us, they mean to do, and want to do worse. That is the truth. That is who they are and what they want. I know this. I accept this as fact. The stages of grief have been cycled through before, remember? There is no denial. No bargaining. My calluses are still here. They must harden thicker now.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I am thinking, of all things, of cosmic horror. More, cosmic insignificance. I always do in the face of reality’s grandest nightmares. A useless perspective except to give scale to things. I am less than an atom in the sea of space. A fraction of a fraction of a fraction of meat and time and breath on a crumb of mud in a galaxy tucked haphazardly in a corner of an infinity of stars and darkness. My life, like all lives, is a flicker. Barely there. Death is inevitable. I must live like I know it. And to devote myself wholly to horror, even in the face of the unthinkable, is to waste the rest of what I have, what I am. Gods fall from the sky and raise their heads from the sea, and I am still here. Reading. Writing. Breathing. Thinking. Hating.

(“HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I'VE COME TO HATE THEM SINCE I SAW THE NEWS. THERE WERE 71,071,013 VOTES FOR HIM THIS YEAR. IF THE WORD HATE WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH OF THOSE BALLOTS IN 8 PT FONT ON BOTH SIDES AND PRINTED AGAIN FROM THE EAST COAST TO THE WEST, IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR MY COUNTRY AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT. FOR THEM. HATE. HATE.”)

I am afraid. I am angry.

Nauseous to find that the first thing I did upon learning the results was look up suicide hotlines. Not for me—I have saved myself too long with fact: Wait long enough, death will come eventually. Do not jump ahead in line.—but for those who I know are afraid enough to overwhelm the anger, to drown out all else, and who are thinking of the next four years and who knows how much longer. I know you’re out there. I know you are looking at the pills in your cupboard, at the veins of your arm, at the black tunnel of the gun. Look away. Look here.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255

TrevorLifeline: 1-866-488-7386 (for LGBTQ youth)

Trans Lifeline: 1-877-565-8860 (for the transgender community)

I am afraid. I am angry.

I am alive. Here and now, whether I like it or not. I despair for myself, for my friends, for strangers across the country and the globe who can feel the full and loathsome weight of all this election implies about those around us. Those who hold our lives in their hands and will do all they can to wring them dry in earnest. How did things turn to this? How did it all sink so low, so awful, so venomously backwards against education and empathy? How, how, how? A missing stage of the grieving process: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance, and Confused disappointment.

I am afraid. I am angry.

The morning is sunless, of course. There will be no light for another hour as I write this. But time is passing. Second by minute by hour. And each micro-instant that accrues in which I am here and myself, existing outside the red mold they want, is another moment that would anger them. To let despair crush and collapse me out of shape, out of life and its facets, is a victory I will not cede to anyone. Least of all to them. I will go on, because I must go on. I will be myself, for that is an affront to all they want from me. I will think and act and make and be for as long and fully as I can. Because fuck them.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I am not alone. I know that too, for the numbers show it. Afraid, angry. But never alone. Neither are you.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I am here. I am holding your hand.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I love you more than I fear anything.

I am afraid. I am angry.

I love you more than I hate anyone.

I am afraid. I am angry.

Let’s go.

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Marilyn Monroe: a Jhea fanfic.

Chapter 5: Boo..

WARNING:

This fanfiction explores sensitive themes, including mental health struggles, trauma, mentions of past sexual abuse, suicidal ideation, and things of that nature. Moving forward this fanfiction will contain intense emotional moments and depictions of characters navigating complex personal challenges such as suicide attempts & self harm. This is a work of fiction and does not reflect the real life characters or lives of any individuals depicted in this story. Please proceed with caution, and if you or someone you know is struggling, consider seeking support from a trusted professional or helpline. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255 & 988

Chapter Warning: Mentions of Past Trauma

Jey sat in the dim light of his room, his frustration building as his fingers twisted the Rubik’s cube in his hands. He had hoped it would calm him, help him focus on something else, but the more he played with it, the more his mind raced. Each click of the cube only reminded him of how he couldn’t solve anything—not the puzzle, not his life.

With a sharp breath, Jey’s grip tightened around the cube. His fingers trembled slightly, and without warning, he hurled it across the room. It collided with the wall, the sharp crack of the plastic echoing in the otherwise silent space.

He ran his hands over his face, trying to suppress the wave of anger building inside him. His breathing grew shallow as his heart started to pound. His mind, once again, betrayed him, dragging him back to the moments he wished he could forget.

The bright lights of the ring flashed in his memory. The sound of his boots on the mat. The excitement of the crowd. But then it all shifted—blurred into something darker. A flash of rough hands, the feeling of being touched in the most evil way, taken advantage of… powerless. The images, the sensations, flooded his mind, too much for him to process. He remembered the way the hand pushed his head down, the other hand digging their nails into Jey’s hip. The tearing sensation he felt in his..

His breath hitched as the memories assaulted him all at once—his body fighting to push it all down, but it was impossible. The feeling of helplessness, the bruises, the whispers… The things he had never fully told anyone.

Jey’s chest tightened as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his head bowed. He gripped the fabric of his shirt, trying to keep himself steady. The weight of it all pressed on him harder now, all the things he had buried beneath the surface for so long.

He closed his eyes, willing the memories to fade, but they refused to let go. Every part of it reminded him of the man he had become, the person he didn’t recognize anymore.

His fists clenched at his sides as he fought to breathe, but his mind was too loud. The anger and the pain were still there, swirling inside of him, and he felt like he might suffocate under its weight. He squeezed his eyes shut harder, trying to force the memories to disappear, but they clung to him.

Jey stood abruptly, pacing across the room. The Rubik’s cube became forgotten on the floor, but the emotions swirling inside him were impossible to ignore.

“You want to get ahead don’t you? This is what everyone does to get ahead..”

Jey’s mind raced as it became trapped in a spiral of chaos. His hands gripped his hair tightly as if trying to pull himself free from the overwhelming memories that flooded him. “Get out of my fucking head!” he growled through gritted teeth, his voice raw with frustration.

“If you would stop fighting this will end quicker..”

His breath came in quick, shallow bursts as the memories clung to him like a vice, tightening around his chest. He could feel everything more clearer now on his skin, the suffocating pressure, the helplessness. His pulse thundered in his ears as the nightmare replayed in his mind.

“Yeah you’re gonna do this for me and you are gonna enjoy it..”

“Stop touching me!” he screamed, his voice cracking, his body trembling as the weight of his trauma surged through him. He could feel the invasion as he pressed his palms against his ears, trying to block it all out, but it was useless.

“Stop moving and it wont hurt you!”

The memories were louder than ever, like an unrelenting force, dragging him deeper into the nightmare.

“This is what real men do… real men sacrifice..”

“Get the fuck off me, man!” he yelled, his voice rising in a desperate, guttural roar. His eyes were wide with terror, staring at nothing as he fought against the onslaught of memories. His body shook with the intensity of the panic attack, each breath more shallow than the last.

Downstairs, Jon heard the yelling, the raw desperation in his brother’s voice. His heart skipped a beat, panic seizing him as he immediately shot up from the couch. Trinity was already on her feet, her face etched with concern as she rushed toward him.

“Jey!” Jon called out, urgency in his tone. “What the hell is going on?”

Without waiting for a response, Jon and Trinity hurried upstairs, their footsteps pounding in the hallway. Jon reached Jey’s door first, slamming it open without hesitation. The sight before him made his stomach twist with a mix of fear and helplessness.

Jey was now sitting on the floor in the center of his room, hyperventilating, his hands clutching his hair as if trying to escape the grip of his own mind. His face was contorted in pain, his eyes wide with panic, and his body trembled violently.

“Jey,” Jon called out gently, his voice a mixture of worry and love as he dropped to his knees beside his brother. “It’s okay, man. It’s okay. We’re here.”

Jey’s breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling erratically. He looked up at Jon, his eyes filled with terror, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s too much… I can’t—”

Jon placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to ground him. “Breathe, Jey. You’re safe. Just focus on me, okay? Focus on me.”

Trinity stood in the doorway, her hand over her mouth as she watched her husband try to calm Jey. She hated seeing him like this, knowing how much pain he was in, but there was nothing she could do but be there for him.

Jey’s body jerked with every breath, his hand still gripping his hair tightly. “I can’t—” he gasped, his voice trembling. “I can’t get away from it.”

Jon’s voice softened, a comforting presence that seemed to anchor Jey even if just slightly. “You’re not alone in this, bro. We’ll get through this together.”

—

February 19th, 2025 5:51 PM

A couple of days later, Rhea still hadn’t heard from Jey. It was eating away at her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, but all she could do was wait. Today was group, and she had to push forward. Raquel was driving her there, and the car ride felt like an eternity.

They pulled up to the community center, and Raquel gave her a side glance. “I’ll be back in an hour,” she said with a small smile. Rhea gave her a tight nod, her grip on the packet in her hand tightening as she stepped out of the car.

Raquel drove off, and Rhea walked up to the entrance of the community center. Her mind was clouded, still preoccupied with the unanswered calls and messages she had sent to Jey. She could feel her heart heavy in her chest, the ache gnawing at her as she entered the building.

Inside, the smell of coffee and mild chatter filled the air as she made her way to the check-in desk. She handed over her packet to the volunteer, who gave her a welcoming smile before directing her to the meeting room. Rhea took a seat near the back, scanning the room for any sign of Jey. The seats were filled with faces she recognized, but Jey was nowhere in sight.

She let out a quiet sigh and turned her attention to the facilitator, who stepped to the front. “Welcome, everyone,” the facilitator began, their voice calm but firm. “Today’s topic is flashbacks. I need to warn everyone, especially for those who haven’t been through this before, it can get a bit overwhelming. One of our frequent visitors, unfortunately, suffered a minor setback and won’t be here today.”

Rhea’s stomach twisted at the mention of the “setback,” her mind immediately drifting to Jey. She hadn’t heard from him in days, and now it seemed like something had happened. Her hands fidgeted with the edge of the packet in her lap as she tried to calm the rising anxiety.

The facilitator continued, but Rhea found it hard to focus, her thoughts consumed by the worry of what Jey might be going through.

Meanwhile, Jey laid in his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, his mind racing. Jon had come in earlier and placed Jey’s phone on the nightstand before plugging it into the charger. “I’ll be down the hall, okay?” Jon had said gently, but Jey didn’t respond. He couldn’t bring himself to. His chest felt tight, the weight of everything pulling him deeper into his thoughts.

The 72-hour psych hold had only made things worse. It was supposed to help, to give him space and time to process everything, but all it did was push him further into the pit he was already sinking into. He didn’t want to stay longer than necessary, so he’d said just the right things to get himself released. Now, it was just him, in his room, surrounded by silence, trying to forget everything.

But just as he tried to close his eyes and block everything out, the relentless sound of multiple notifications pulled him back into reality. He groaned softly and reached for his phone, the buzzing refusing to stop. Rhea’s name flashed on the screen, followed by a flood of texts. He scrolled through them, his chest tightening as he read each one. The messages were full of concern, frustration, and worry—Rhea had been texting him relentlessly.

He stared at the screen for a long moment, the guilt creeping in. He hadn’t responded to her, not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t know what to say. How could he explain the mess inside his head, the weight of everything he was carrying? How could he tell her he didn’t feel like himself anymore?

He wiped a hand over his face, trying to clear the fog, and then, slowly, he started typing back. “I’m sorry, Rhea. I’ve been in a dark place.”

As soon as he hit send, his heart pounded in his chest, anxiety creeping up his spine. What was she going to say? Would she understand?

Rhea’s heart skipped a beat when she felt her phone buzz softly in her pocket. The moment her eyes caught Jey’s name on the screen, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of hope and anxiety. She quickly opened the message and read what he said, her fingers trembling as she typed back: I want to see you, please.

Jey’s reply came almost instantly: Jon and Trinity are leaving in an hour to get a refill on my medicines, can you come see me for a moment?

Rhea didn’t even hesitate. Group is passing out some worksheets! I’ll bring them to you.

Jey’s response was quieter, almost hesitant: Rhea, I’m sorry.

Her heart ached at the simplicity of his apology. But she knew it wasn’t enough. Apologize to me in person, she typed, and hit send before she could second guess herself.

The hour dragged as the group session continued, and Rhea couldn’t focus on anything other than getting to Jey. After what felt like an eternity, the group wrapped up, and Rhea saw Liv sitting in the car alone instead of Raquel. She immediately made her way toward the car.

“Can you take me to Jey’s house?” Rhea asked, her voice soft but insistent.

Liv looked over at her, frowning. “What for?”

Rhea’s hands gripped the handle of the car door, her desperation clear. “To drop off his papers from group.”

Liv hesitated for a moment, but Rhea’s eyes—pleading, soft, vulnerable—made it impossible to say no. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Rhea.”

“Please, Liv,” Rhea said, her voice cracking slightly. “I haven’t seen him all week! Please, just take me to him.”

Liv sighed, her resolve crumbling under Rhea’s pleading gaze. “Fine,” she said reluctantly. “Where does he live?”

“621 Whispering Lane,” Rhea replied quickly.

Liv didn’t argue further. “Okay, okay, I’m going.”

The drive felt like it took forever, but soon they pulled up to Jey’s house. Liv looked at Rhea. “Hurry up,” she urged.

Rhea nodded, barely holding herself together. She grabbed the papers from her lap and rushed to the front door, knocking quickly. The door opened, and there he was—Jey, standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and relief.

Without a word, he stepped forward and pulled her into a tight hug, as though she was the last thing on earth he needed. Rhea’s breath hitched as she melted into the embrace, feeling the warmth of his body and the safety of his arms around her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the world outside fading away. It was just them—finally reunited after so much silence, pain, and distance.

Jey’s voice was low, filled with genuine care as he pulled back slightly, his hands cupping her face. “I’m sorry, Rhea. I didn’t mean to shut you out.”

Jey wiped away the tears with his thumbs, she hadn’t even realized they had formed. “You don’t have to apologize. Just… be here. With me.”

Jey’s hands were still gently holding Rhea’s face, his thumbs tracing the curves of her jaw, but when she whispered, “Jey, please kiss me,” his heart fluttered. He searched her eyes for any sign of hesitation, his voice thick with uncertainty. “Are you sure?”

Rhea nodded, her voice soft but resolute. “More sure than I’ve ever felt.”

The way she looked at him, so vulnerable and sincere, made his chest tighten. He hesitated for a brief moment, weighing the intensity of the moment. But before he could overthink it, Rhea reached up and closed the distance between them.

The kiss was electric. It was as if everything that had been building between them—every unspoken word, every hidden emotion—came rushing to the surface. Her lips were soft against his, the warmth of their connection growing stronger with every second.

Jey’s hand moved to her back, pulling her closer, pressing her gently against the door. But the shift in position brought a sudden, violent rush of memories that hit Rhea like a tidal wave. Her breath caught in her throat, her pulse quickened, and her chest tightened with panic.

She broke the kiss abruptly, pushing him away with trembling hands. Her mind was reeling, the images of her past assault flashing in front of her eyes, the weight of it all threatening to suffocate her.

Jey stepped back, his eyes filled with concern as he noticed the shift in her demeanor. “Rhea… what’s wrong?” he asked softly, his voice laced with worry. His hands hovered in the air, unsure whether to reach for her again.

Rhea’s breath came in ragged gasps as she tried to ground herself. “I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, her hands shaking as she wiped the tears that threatened to fall. “It’s just… I’m not ready for that yet. I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”

Jey’s expression softened, his own guilt and confusion taking root. He stepped closer, but kept a safe distance, not wanting to push her further. “You don’t have to apologize, Rhea. We’ll take things slow. Whenever you’re ready. I’m here. Always.”

His voice was steady, but there was a tremor in his eyes that mirrored the vulnerability she was feeling. He reached out cautiously, placing a hand gently on her arm. “I’m not going anywhere. Just tell me what you need.”

Rhea closed her eyes, trying to steady herself. She wanted nothing more than to be with him, but the weight of her past continued to haunt her. It was a battle, one she wasn’t sure how to win.

Rhea’s eyes open as she felt her heart race as she tried to find the right words, but everything felt jumbled inside her. “Jey… I’m sorry,” she whispered, barely able to meet his eyes. “I don’t think I should have done that.”

Jey’s expression faltered, a flicker of pain passing through his eyes. He took a step toward her, his voice low but steady. “Rhea… it was the heat of the moment.”

But the hurt in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed. Despite his words, there was a part of him that couldn’t shake the feeling of being rejected. He reached for her hands, his grip gentle but firm. “Please don’t shut me out right now, Rhea.”

Rhea’s eyes filled with tears as she struggled to get her words out. “I… I… I can’t,” she stammered, the weight of everything crashing down on her. The guilt, the fear, the vulnerability—it was all too much.

Jey moved closer, his thumb brushing against her hand, desperate to keep her from retreating. “Rhea… look at me.”

She hesitated, but when she met his gaze, his voice softened. “Whatever happened before, that’s before. That’s not me. I’m not that type of person, okay?” His words were earnest, laced with the rawness of everything he was feeling in that moment.

Rhea’s eyes darted away from him, the knot in her stomach growing tighter. The suffocating memories of her past, the fear of being vulnerable, the weight of her trauma—it all consumed her. Her breath hitched, and she could barely find the strength to hold onto the words she knew she needed to say.

“I have to go,” Rhea finally said, her voice filled with hurt. She pulled her hands from his grasp and turned toward the door, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Jey stood frozen in place, his heart breaking with each movement she made. He didn’t know what to do—how to make her stay, how to help her heal. He knew that pushing her would only make things worse, but the helplessness he felt was overwhelming. “Rhea…”

She didn’t turn around. The door closed softly behind her, and Jey stood there in the silence of his own mind, trying to make sense of everything.

And as he stared at the closed door, he couldn’t help but wonder if she was already slipping away.

Rhea approached the car, her mind still swirling with the remnants of her encounter with Jey. She opened the door, slid into the passenger seat, and barely looked at Liv as she shut the door behind her. Liv glanced at her, trying to gauge how she was feeling. “You gave him the papers?” Liv asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Rhea let out a soft sigh and nodded. “Yeah.”

Liv pursed her lips, her brow furrowing. “Come on, let’s go home before Raquel kills us both.”

Rhea didn’t respond, her thoughts still replaying everything that had just happened. She leaned back against the headrest, closing her eyes for a moment as the car started moving. The drive home felt like an eternity, though it was quick, and the weight in Rhea’s chest only grew heavier with every passing minute.

When they arrived at the apartment, Rhea didn’t wait for Liv to say anything else. She opened the door and stepped out quickly, not even sparing a glance at the parking lot. She made her way straight to her room, her heart pounding in her chest. Once inside, she slammed the door behind her and collapsed onto her bed.

Raquel glanced over at Liv, who was still sitting in the car, and then back at the closed door of Rhea’s room. “What happened?” Raquel asked, her voice low but sharp with concern.

Liv shrugged, looking frustrated and helpless. “I don’t know babe..”

Raquel didn’t ask further questions. She could tell something had gone wrong, but she knew better than to push. For now, she could only wait and hope that Rhea would open up when she was ready.

Inside the room, Rhea felt the tears she’d been holding back start to fall. She curled up in a ball, her face buried in her hands. The memory of her first kiss with Jey—so filled with intensity and longing—had been marred by the haunting flashbacks. The warmth of his touch, the tenderness of the moment, everything had been clouded by the panic that washed over her, the fear of being vulnerable, of losing control.

Her mind kept replaying the past, the memories she wished she could forget, the moments of hurt that were too deeply ingrained in her to just disappear. She had been so sure of her feelings for Jey, so certain of their connection. But in that moment, when he kissed her, everything spiraled out of control.

Tears stained her pillow as she quietly cried. The silence of her room felt suffocating, and she wished more than anything that she could escape the overwhelming pain of her memories. Her first kiss with Jey—meant to be a moment of closeness and healing—felt broken now, shattered by everything she couldn’t escape.

Rhea’s phone buzzed again, cutting through the suffocating silence that had filled the room. She glanced down at the screen, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Jey’s name. Her breath hitched as the phone rang, the vibrations in her hand shaking her to the core. She didn’t know if she was ready to face him after everything that had just happened. But she couldn’t ignore it any longer.

The phone buzzed once more, and she still couldn’t bring herself to answer. Another ring. Then another. By the fifth buzz, Rhea finally gave in, swiping her finger across the screen with a shaky breath.

“Rhea,” Jey’s voice came through, soft but urgent, “Talk to me, baby.”

Rhea swallowed hard, feeling her throat tighten as the tears threatened to spill again. She sniffled, wiping at her eyes, trying to steady her breathing. But it was no use. Everything was falling apart, and she didn’t know how to put it back together.

“I… I fucked up everything,” Rhea choked out, the words barely audible through her sobs.

Jey didn’t immediately respond, but she could hear his breath hitch, and she knew he was processing what she said. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke again, his voice low and understanding.

“Rhea,” Jey said softly, “Baby, you didn’t fuck up anything.”

Rhea squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head as she spoke. “I did. I kissed you and froze up. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t even… I can’t even be in the moment without freaking out.”

Jey let out a deep sigh. “I get it, Rhea. Trust me, I get it.” He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was strained with emotion. “We both carry so much, don’t we? It’s like, every time we think we’re moving forward, the past just… hits us like a fucking truck.”

Rhea was silent for a moment, her chest tightening with the weight of his words. The shared understanding between them—the deep, raw pain that neither of them knew how to escape—made her feel less alone.

“I can’t let go of what happened to me,” Jey continued, his voice breaking slightly. “It’s like it’s always there, in the background, haunting me. I can’t sleep, can’t focus. And sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever be free from it.”

Rhea felt the weight of his words like a punch to the gut. She knew all too well what he was talking about—the way trauma followed you like a shadow, always lurking, always there, no matter how hard you tried to move forward.

“I’ve been feeling the same way,” Rhea whispered. “Like, no matter how many times I try to get over it, it keeps coming back. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the fear… it never ends.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and Rhea could feel the tension between them. She could feel Jey’s own pain, his struggle, and it mirrored her own.

“Yeah,” Jey said finally, his voice hoarse. “But I think maybe that’s why we get each other, right? Because we both know what it’s like to be fucked up, to be broken and still try to keep moving. We’re both carrying our scars, Rhea. But we’re still here. And that counts for something.”

Rhea wiped away a fresh tear that had slipped down her cheek. “It does count for something, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it does,” Jey replied softly. “We’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”

Rhea took a shaky breath, her heart aching with the raw truth of his words. “I’m scared, Jey. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to be okay.”

Jey’s voice was tender but firm as he responded, “You don’t have to fix everything right away. Hell, you don’t have to fix anything at all. We’re both broken, Rhea. But I’d rather be broken with you than alone.”

A small, bitter laugh escaped Rhea’s lips, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt a sense of comfort in the shared vulnerability between them. It was messy, painful, and imperfect—but it was real.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” Rhea admitted, her voice full of genuine emotion.

“You’re not,” Jey assured her, his voice steady despite the heaviness between them.

Rhea closed her eyes, allowing the warmth of his words to wash over her. The fear, the shame, the guilt—they were all still there, but for a brief moment, she didn’t feel as weighed down by them. Because in this moment, with Jey’s voice grounding her, she knew they could face their darkness together. And that, maybe, was the first step to healing?

“From here on out, you’re never gonna’ be alone ever again, Rhea. Not ever. I got you.”

Rhea’s heart skipped a beat as she heard Jey’s words. There was a tenderness in his voice that sent a shiver down her spine, something she hadn’t heard from him in a while. It felt comforting, like he was trying to ground her in a way that no one else could.

“You got me?” Rhea asked softly, her voice still shaky from the tears that had flowed earlier.

Jey’s response came almost immediately, his tone warm and reassuring. “I got you, boo,” he said, and there was a hint of a smile in his voice, as if he was trying to make her feel better, to make her feel safe.

Rhea sniffled, still holding the phone close to her ear, trying to steady her breathing. “I’m your boo?” she asked, her voice laced with disbelief but also a hint of curiosity.

Jey chuckled lightly, a sound that brought a small, bittersweet smile to Rhea’s face. “Well… only if you want to be,” he said, his voice gentle but teasing.

Rhea’s lips parted, and for a moment, she was speechless. She could hear the playful tone in his voice, but beneath it was something deeper, something more genuine. The vulnerability, the pain, the raw emotion—they were all still there, but somehow, in that moment, it felt like the weight of everything had lessened just a little.

“Do I want to be your boo?” Rhea whispered to herself, more out of contemplation than anything else.

Jey’s voice broke through the quiet. “Rhea,” he said, his tone now serious, “I know we’ve both have been through a lot in our journeys, but if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that I’m here for you. And I always will be. But it’s up to you. I’m not going to push you. You gotta want it, too.”

Rhea closed her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips. She had always been guarded, afraid of letting anyone in too deep, afraid of the hurt it might bring. But with Jey, there was something different. Something that made her feel like maybe it was okay to not have everything figured out. Maybe it was okay to be broken together.

She took a deep breath before speaking, her voice quiet but full of sincerity. “I do want to be your boo, Jey. I just… I don’t know how to be that person right now.”

Jey’s voice softened, his understanding clear. “And you don’t have to know everything right now. We’ll figure it out together.”

Rhea held the phone to her ear, her fingers tightening around it as a wave of emotion swept over her. It wasn’t perfect. Nothing about their situation was. But in that moment, with Jey’s words echoing in her mind, she felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time: genuine reassurance.

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Okay, Jey. I want to try. I want to be with you. I don’t want to be alone anymore either.”

There was a long pause before Jey responded, and when he did, his voice was thick with emotion. “I promise I got you..”

And for the first time in a long time, Rhea allowed herself to believe him.

Jey chuckled softly on the other end of the line, his voice smooth and warm. “Now that we got some of that mushiness out of the way,” he teased, the playfulness in his tone lifting the mood.

Rhea couldn’t help but smirk, even though her cheeks were still damp from her earlier tears. “Yeah?” she said, curious where he was going with this.

“You have the softest lips ever,” Jey said, his voice low and teasing, but there was a hint of sincerity that made her stomach do a little flip.

Rhea felt the heat rush to her face, and even though he couldn’t see her, she blushed furiously. “Yours are… big,” she retorted, trying to sound playful but failing to hide her nervousness.

Jey let out a hearty laugh, the sound so infectious that Rhea found herself giggling along with him. “That’s something I can’t control, Rhea!” he shot back, his voice laced with mock indignation.

Her laugh grew louder, and she wiped at her face, feeling lighter than she had in days. “Yeah, yeah, blame genetics,” she quipped, her tone brighter now.

Jey’s laughter softened, and his voice turned more tender. “That’s what I like,” he said, almost as if he were speaking more to himself than to her.

Rhea tilted her head, curious. “Like what?”

“Your laugh,” Jey admitted without hesitation. “It’s… I don’t know, it’s just one of those things. It makes everything feel less heavy, you know? Like, when you laugh, even when you’re going through it, it reminds me that there’s still good stuff out there.”

Rhea felt her chest tighten, but not in a bad way. His words hit her in a way she hadn’t expected, filling her with a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time. She swallowed hard, her voice soft when she finally spoke. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Jey replied firmly. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep hearing it, Rhea. Your laugh, your voice—it’s what keeps me going.”

Rhea let his words settle over her, a small, genuine smile spreading across her face. “You’re really something else, you know that?”

Jey chuckled again. “Nah, I’m just a guy trying to make his boo smile.”

Rhea rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help laughing again. “Okay, okay, Mr. Smooth. I see you.”

“Yeah, you do,” Jey said, his voice dripping with playful confidence, making her laugh even harder.

[babygirl-riley]

Haunted Alternative Ending

You wake up in the hospital looking over to see the only person you’d hope to see.

A/N: Alright @i-love-ghost hope this is something your mind will enjoy. This is gonna be heavy of talks of suicide, if this triggers anyone don’t have to read. And if you need help call the number above. ❤️ Know there are people who love you.

“And it’s the light that’s in the air. When your chest to chest with a lover.”

Warnings: Talks of suicide, attempt suicide, depression, sad!simon, mentions of overdose, swearing, mentions of dementia

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst

Pt.1 Pt.2

You felt the reach of death, almost felt like a weight off your chest. The mental and physical pain gone, you were relieved. However there was nothing but darkness. Nothing that was told of being a light or after life bullshit. You heard voices, voices that would talk about pulse change or what medicine goes where.

It didn’t hit you what they were talking about until you felt something shoving down your throat. You gagged as you felt stuff coming out of you. You were dazed as you looked around to see strangers in white shirts. Concern on their faces, red and blue lights illuminated the darkness around you. “There ya go honey, stay with us. Ya alright.” The woman said soothing you as your eyes shut once more.

The next thing you knew the heart monitor woke you up as you heard the rhythmic beating. Your body felt heavy as you tried to move your arms. Fingers. You opened your eyes to shut them from the bright lights blinding you. You moaned quietly trying to feel or see anything. You moved your fingers, feeling them fumble.

Panic serged through you, where were you? No are you paralyzed are you dead? What is happening. You tried to ask for help but came out in mumbles. You heard your heart racing through your veins to your ears. You opened your eyes again widened and frightened. The lights were harsh burning them as you shut them. A groan leaving your lips.

“Y/n,” Your heart felt like stopped. That voice. That angelic voice. You opened your eyes once more and the lights that were once bright was being covered by a large figure. The mask that cover their face. You moaned softly as your eyesight cleared to see Simon. Then it hit you, you couldn’t swallow. You teared up as you grabbed his hand that was near you. He held your hand as his head snapped up, pressing a button next to you. “Stay calm sweethear’. The nurses are coming in ‘ight,”

You heard shuffling of rushing feet as everything hit you. You were connected to machines. You started to gag as the nurses push Simon away, making you panic more. It seemed like you blacked out as you could breathe normal and the nurses calmed you down.

You looked around groggily and coughed as it felt like your throat was dry. “Don’t talk hun,” The doctor said softly. “You’ve been asleep for a bit. We will get some water. Just rest.”

When the nurses and the doctor left as they talked outside the room. You looked over at Simon who stood in the corner of the room. Your lips trembled as he just stared, both of you didn’t know how to feel. You wondered A how you got here and B why he was here. Before he could say or step in the nurses were back, asking Simon to leave so they could get you checked.

It was hours before your could talk let alone do anything else. All the drugs you took made your body feel stiff. You were lucky enough to still have movement however, it was slower than normal. Doctor said to your parents that it was cause of you being asleep to the pills. Your parents stayed for a while before they said goodbye, needing to go home but be back first thing in the morning.

You were happy due to your mom crying nonstop and the guilt replaying through your veins. You looked outside to watch snow start falling. Not only your attempted but you did it near a holiday. You didn’t realize how much you were loved and it made you feel sick to think that you would leave them in that state. You thought that it was going to be peaceful once more until you heard the familiar heavy footsteps.

You looked over at the door. Simon. You inhaled deeply. “Don’t.” Your voice was hoarse but getting better as time came by.

“‘M not,” He said quietly. “May I?”

You nodded as he walked all the way in, coming towards you. He grabbed the chair to set it next to you. Both of you didn’t say anything, he was looking at his hands as you looked at the wall. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean to, I just-I just thought that no one loved me anymore.” Your voice hitched as tears welled up. “I’m so sorry I…”

Simon grabbed your hand making you look at him, his eyes having tears spilling, and looked like he had spilt some before. “No, don’t say that. Don’t say sorry. I should’ve realized you…” He stopped talking inhaling deeply. “I’m fuckin’ sorry. I-fuck I should have never kicked you out. I should have-I should have…”

You cried as you grabbed his hand and shook your head. “I never should have hit you. I crossed the line.”

Simon looked away as you heard a soft sob for a moment before he inhaled. “I deserv’ it, never should have called ya a whore. Or saying you were distant. You never did anythin’ wrong,” He mumbled shaking his head, you looked at his hands, the bruises, the dried blood around his fingers probably the habit of picking them when he got nervous. He looked at you taking his hand away and placed his finger on your cheek. “I thought ya were gone. And it kills me that it took you to almost…” He paused.

The guilt stung again making you sob. Simon stood up and leaned on you, placing his lips ontop of your head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to. I knew if I got drunk enough it wouldn’t matter and-I didn’t want to die but-I was so alone. And now I just couldn’t imagine what you and my parents would be in if it worked. I’m so-I’m so fucking sorry.”

Simon kissed your head again, he held you as you sobbed and sobbed. “I will never leave ya I promise baby. I fuckin’ promise.”

You held on to the back of his neck. You closed your eyes as you hear him whisper that he will never do this again. He will love you until the day he dies. Simon will never let you go and you know of that. You always knew that he would. It was something that both of you had to work on. God you never understood until later in life of why you were alive.

Years go by that Simon was right never has he left your side. Made sure how you were doing. As you did the same as the relationship grew stronger and stronger. He did marry you and gave you children that you both love so dear. Simon loved you every step of the way, no matter what was going on.

Simon and you sat on your front porch watching your daughter playing with your grandkids. Never you would have thought that you would be here. Here with Simon. Here with your daughters. All because of chance. Chances that you wanted to live, that you were just broken and trying to piece yourself together. Chances that your boyfriend who later turned to a husband and now a father. Chances Simon did stay with you as you stayed with him.

You will always be grateful that you are alive. Even through the darkest pain and time you were able to see this. To see your life play how you always dreamed it to be.

“Lovie?” Simon said, his wrinkles more prominent. His gray hair turning into white. You smiled at him reaching for his hand.

“Yes darling.” You responded as he grabbed yours.

“Where are we?” You tried not to frown as you looked around.

“Home baby remember?” You smiled again as you hope that he would nod in agreement.

“Who are ‘em?” He asked watching his grandchild and daughter play.

“Your daughter and grandbaby my dear.” You said looking at them watching your daughter catching on as her son played around her.

You smiled at her and nodded before turning to Simon, who nodded in confusion and looked at you. “I see.” He mumbled looking at them once more.

You grabbed gripped his hand tighter, smiling lovingly at him. You will never leave him like he never left you. Even through the hardest times, he was there and now it was your turn.

Oh how grateful you are to have another chance.

[the-one-and-only-guck]

feeling like this song at the moment

[i-am-baechu]

If you're experiencing a crisis and need immediate support:

National Suicide Prevention Hotline *Call 988* or (800) 273-8255

LGBTQ Trevor Project Lifeline: (866) 488-7386 or text "START" to 678-678

National Domestic Violence Hotline: (800) 799-7233

National Sexual Assault Hotline:

(800) 656-4673

Crisis Text Line: Text “HOME” to 741741

National Helpline (800) 662-HELP (4357)

[dismalnightsposts]

Bill: *listening to 1-800 by Logic*

Mabel: Literally me.

Dipper: Haha same.

Pacifica: The only phone number I've memorized.

Stan and Ford: What the actual fuck?

Bill, Dipper, Mabel, and Pacifica: I just die today, I just wanna diiieeee!

Stan and Ford: *Super concerned*

Aw, the couples are bonding.

[unironiclipsyncvideosarchive]

2022-04-23

[barghest-land]

tw suicide thanks to everyone who reached out and helped with the info, i'm sorry i can't really respond to messages rn cuz i just don't have any resources for it if anyone ever needs it tho, this thing works no matter where you're from and calling them from overseas isn't even expensive. it's english mostly but it's possible to talk in spanish to them too, idk about other languages; they also have a department (?) specially for queer people: National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: +1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255) i thought it might also help someone. a few things that were important to me: it's also a crisis line. no, u don't have to be suicidal to call, no, u don't have to stand-on-the-roof-ready-to-jump to call. they usually call back on the next day to check if everything is ok, but they can't call back overseas. u can always do that urself if u need to tho that's ok too. also ofc u don't have to share any personal info. in my case it's also good that i don't have to speak my native language cuz i don't want a call to be traced by some phrases.

stay safe