#I’d rather have face pain and suffering honestly

[batwynn]

Ok so if you have emetophobia and/or have ever drowned I highly recommend you don’t use a neti pot for your sinuses because it will trigger a whole body panic experience that will not go away for hours.

-1110000000/10 can’t escape my own nose right now and want to die.

[calp0sa]

what do you like and dislike about airy?

CRAZY MESSY INFODUMP INCOMING OH LORD

well there’s nothing i truly dislike about airy, because everything about him just makes him who he is. i just wish we got more insight to him as an Actual person rather than his host facade, even though that was sort of the point of one 17-18, i feel like the fact that he’s pretty much a regular ass dude went over most people’s heads (Not mine though because im really smart and could beat albert einstein in a rap battle) i know the mystique is the most prominently interesting aspect of the whole show… but yknowwww it’d be nice to know a little more about him personally considering how we now know he’s far from a one-dimensional character and shouldn’t be taken at face value (i am side eyeing a huge chunk of the one fandom as i say this) now okay if i were to talk about everything i like about airy we’d be here til the next solar eclipse but i’ll try to jot down everything i can. airy, to me, is the most fascinating object show character there is. i swear every time i observe something about him it’s like i’m opening a matryoshka doll as i dissect his character further and further… every rewatch of one i notice something, whether it be minuscule or glaring, there’s always something for me to brutally analyze. see, and here’s where i contradict myself, because while it’s frustrating not having much official trivia on him, i actually quite love how mysterious he is. i love how he seems like he knows a lot more than he lets on. i love how his caginess only sparks more questions. and i love how FESTERED he is. how you can tell there was so much that led up to him being so numb and stagnant… it does nothing but pique my interest. and i love how this festered-ness parallels with the contestants. i can’t help but feel as if the true extent of airy’s suffering was reflected through those on the plane, how the contestants went through so many fluctuant stages of sadness, denial, hopelessness, anger… all in the midst of isolation akin to airy’s forest. it makes me wonder if ONE served as catharsis to airy. not just a purpose or a distraction, but something to spark resonance within a desolate soul. speaking of distraction, it’s really interesting to me how reliant airy is on escapism, and this is most evident in how he literally takes on such a gilded and contrived host persona to the point where it’s difficult for the viewer to discern who he is OUTSIDE of “airy”. big fan of how the show basically tricks us into thinking he’s this ruthless malevolent all powerful entity until it takes us by surprise and reveals that he’s Just Some Guy, and it could’ve been anyone in his place. but this isn’t to defend him… no… airy was definitely a selfish and inconsiderate asshole (sorry yall) he just isn’t as awful as everyone makes him out to be. airy is not evil, nor is he good, he just kind of sucks LOL. and i love him for that honestly! the thing about this is he should’ve stopped and asked himself “what am i going to gain from this” yet he was so absorbed in trying to hoist himself out of that inevitable pit of dread that he did not care if he destroyed everything else in the process (Might i add that this is a huge parallel to liam’s impulsive vengefulness… i swear i could go on and on about how those two are brothers from another mother) another interesting thing about the hosting stage of airy is the chance that he probably did feel some sort of regret. especially after the shock of breaking his face, being confronted by harsh genuine emotions after such a long time… an iota of the pain and fear he assumed was long gone… as well as the crushing reminder that he basically threw himself and all his senses away just for a stupid game. What a loser amirite. even if he had some semblance of a wish to end ONE, he knew he couldn’t. i’d imagine he told himself mockingly “yeaaaa you basically dug yourself into this, you’re not backing out any time soon” (even though he could’ve easily backed out he was just a loser ass COWARD!)

i didn’t know the paragraphs had character limits! interesting. anyway i can’t help but wonder if airy made that effort to take care of liam in an attempt to break the cycle, the cycle of destroying everything else, including your very self, for the purpose of One thing. maybe airy thinks violence and spite is just a huge waste of time yes of course, but i think he understood liam to some extent (remember what i said about resonance 😁😁😁) i just love how everything about airy is so subtle, yet so major, so jarring and confusing yet when you piece it all together it makes such a scary amount of sense. i love making sense of how nonsensical he is. (of course i do. i am possibly the biggest fan of nonsense there is) now i will add a funny little thing i like about him. i like how he’s all impatient and snarky. and i know you’re probably thinking “franklin how in the abraham lincoln’s bootycheek do you think he’s snarky” Listen, it’s really funny once you actually notice it. there were so many instances where he sounded exasperated with the contestants. my personal favorite being

“yes, as long as you are here, you can’t die”

>”WE CANT DIE?”

“Yes… that’s… what i just said 😐”

he has this barely noticeable “oh my god can you let me do what i need to do” attitude and it’s SO funny. i like to imagine he rolled his eyes a lot while he was hosting. its really funny to imagine. and its also funny to imagine him smiling like an idiot like he did hosting in one 17. that scene was really cute it makes me want to run into ongoing traffic and get continuously ran over by 12 different semi-trucks. if you ignore how miserable the contestants were (sorry contestants) it’s actually really endearing how excited and eager airy was when he got ideas for challenges. i bet he felt so proud of himself it’s honestly kind of sad. he’s sad. what the hell. he really thought he was the SHIT when he said “riches… immortality… whatever your heart desires 😌” Oh my god he’s so pathetic don’t even get me started MY ONLINE CLASSES ARE STARTING I GOTS TO GO BUT ANYWAY FEEL FREE TO ASK FOR AN ANALYSIS ABOUT LITERALLY ANYTHING AIRY RELATED I HAVE MORE THAN A HUNDRED BIBLES’ WORTH OF SHIT TO SAY ABOUT HIM BYEBYE THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS

[herofics]

Dangers of winter

A/N: Hahahahaaaaa, Dabi angst yet again, surprise, surprise… Kinda toxic I guess though, and maybe passively suicidal reader?

“I’m not watching you kill yourself over this, I’m done!” you yelled at him. “I’m done with your bullshit revenge plan, and I’m done with you!”

“Didja honestly think I’d just let you go? How am I supposed to know you’re not goin to blab my plans to some barfly the next time you decide to get drunk?”

“No fear of that once I’m away from you, you’re the one who drove me to drink anyway” you spat, turning your back to him to leave the room.

“I’m not through with you yet!” Dabi growled as he quickly stepped between you and the door.

He pressed his hand against the door, and you could see it getting charred around the contact point.

“What are you gonna do? Hurt me? Kill me? Go ahead, it’s better than watching you die over some stupid revenge fantasy!” you exclaimed angrily, starting to tear up.

There it was, the truth. You would rather die than have to live with losing him.

“I can’t keep doing this, I-I just can’t” you cried, falling to your knees and burying your face in your hands.

Dabi was quite honestly baffled. You weren’t usually like this, actually you were never like this, he had barely ever seen you cry. You’d never shown this kind of desperation, this kind of despair. No one had, not for him anyway. Your show of feelings wasn’t exactly breaking his heart, but it did make him feel… something.

“Do you think that I’m gonna give up on everythin I’ve worked for, just because you shed a few tears?” Dabi said with a mocking tone.

If he hurt you enough, maybe, just maybe, you would be free of him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to feel whatever this was, and he could go on with his quest for revenge. It would be better for both of you to part ways, but somewhere in that burnt, black heart of his, he didn’t really want to let you go. He wanted to keep you, all to himself, for the time he had left. He was selfish like that, and he was well aware of it, he just didn’t really care. Dabi felt conflicted. He didn’t want to let you go, but he also didn’t want to make you suffer like this.

“Get out then, if that’s what you want. You’re useless anyway” he scoffed.

You could feel your breath hitch in your throat when you heard what he said. You raised your head from your hands, tears still rolling down your cheeks, noticing he was looking down at you with that familiar burning hate in his eyes. You’d seen that hatred so many times before, but never directed at you, never had he looked at you like that.

You didn’t say anything. You just got up from the floor, wobbling a little, before he stepped away from the door and you could slip out. You couldn’t even look at him anymore, it was too painful.

You were gone, things were as they should be. He was alone, as he should be.

You didn’t know where you would go, you didn’t want to go home. Even though you had left your jacket at Dabi’s place, it was like you couldn’t even feel the cold. It was snowing and the wind had started to pick up, but you didn’t even notice it. You just wandered until you were too tired to move. It didn’t take long in that cold for you to be in such a state.

“I don’t care anymore…” you muttered as you fell down in the snow. “I don’t care…”

You couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. Maybe you could just let yourself succumb to the cold. Dying of hypothermia was like going to sleep, or so you’d heard. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad way to go.

Just before you lost consciousness, you thought you heard someone calling your name as they approached, but who would do that? There was no one who cared about you anymore. 

Dabi felt like an idiot when he finally found you, actually he felt like an idiot the moment you were out the door. He had left his place with your jacket in hand, because you’d forgotten it. The last thing he wanted was for you to die of hypothermia. He headed in the direction of your place, hoping to basically throw the jacket at you and leave.

Dabi jogged the usual route to your apartment, but he didn’t see you. He got this pit in his stomach, if you weren’t here, where were you? One of your friends must have come to pick you up. Even though he tried to convince himself of that, the pit in his stomach just wouldn’t go away.

Dabi returned to his apartment building, kicking frozen chunks of snow out of his way. When he was almost there, he noticed someone laying in the snow. He took a few steps closer, his heart in his throat. It was you, dammit.

Dabi closed the distance between you, calling your name as he fell on his knees next to you.

He saw the moment you closed your eyes, the moment you gave up and let go. He wasn’t going to let you go, he refused to. It was a different thing to not have you in his life, he could bear that, but to know you were dead because of him, that he couldn’t take.

Dabi picked you up and carried you back to his apartment. You were so cold in his arms and it terrified him.

“Don’t you die on me now” he muttered as he set you down in his bed.

He laid as many blankets on you as he could find, which was only three. He then took his jacket and shirt off, before climbing under the covers with you. He pulled you close and held you.

Dabi’s normal temperature was quite a bit higher than someone’s without a fire quirk, so he was basically a portable heater. He knew he shouldn’t turn up the heat too much, because you were so close to him as to not hurt you, but he had to get you warm, he had to.

Dabi didn’t know how long he laid there with you, but once a quiet “warm” escaped your lips, and you snuggled closer to him, he felt like he could finally breathe. Maybe this was what it felt like to love someone, to feel like you couldn’t breathe when they weren’t well and safe.

[artiststarme]

Just A Minor Crisis…

Well, I woke up today and had the genius idea of Steve sharing in my crisis. Bon Appétit! Warning: a brief mental breakdown and some mentions of depression

~*~*~*~

Steve was having a midlife crisis. Honestly, it was a long time coming. Over the past three years or so of dealing with the Upside Down and all of its drama, Steve had only broken down like this one time before. It had been right after the events of Starcourt and losing Hopper. He’s fallen into a weeks-long depression that was only appeased by Robin pulling him out of bed to find a new job where they could work together. There may have been a brief sexuality crisis a few weeks after Spring Break too when Steve had seen Eddie with his hair in a bun but that was neither here nor there. 

In the past 24 hours, he’d gotten a tattoo that he was hiding from his friends, quit his job, and made out with a random guy at a gay club in Indy. His life was going off the rails and he didn’t know what to do about that. He needed the money from work to be able to move out of his parent’s oppressive house, probably sooner rather than later. And while the spontaneous tattoo and random making out wasn’t a death sentence, it certainly wouldn’t make things easier on him in the future especially if his parents or friends caught wind of it. 

He wanted to ask for help, so someone could assist him in not flying off the edge without a parachute, but he didn’t want the questions that were sure to accompany it. So, he suffered alone for the first week. 

He practically dropped off the face of the earth, just wallowing in bed at home with his curtains drawn and doors locked. No one was getting through his defenses, not if he could help it. One thing he neglected to consider though was how savvy his friends were. On day eight of becoming a hermit, Eddie and Robin showed up in his room and yanked the comfy covers off of him. 

“C’mon man, get out of bed. What’s going on? We haven’t seen you in like a week,” Eddie said with concern coating his voice. 

“Are you okay, Dingus? Keith said you quit over the phone and no one has heard from you since! Do you know how worried we’ve been? We didn’t even think you were in town because your car isn’t in the driveway otherwise we would’ve broken in sooner!” Robin ranted, poking at his shoulder to get his attention. 

“How did you get in?” Steve whispered, not having enough energy to speak any louder. 

“I picked your lock. It was ridiculously easy by the way, almost concerningly. You might want to get that checked out. Now, why are you avoiding everyone?” Eddie asked him. 

Steve didn’t have the energy to argue with them or field their concern so he just groaned and rolled over. Stupidly, he forgot about the new tattoo on his forearm that was exposed when he flipped. 

“Dude, did you get new ink? I never thought I’d see the day that Steve Harrington would get a tattoo. What the hell?” Steve heard a smacking noise and a whimper of pain before he felt Robin climb in his bed to curl up with him. 

“Steve? Please talk to me. Is this another depressive episode? It’s okay if it is but please don’t shut me out. We’re really worried about you. The tattoo looks great by the way! It looks just like your real bat!”

Steve’s tattoo was an image of his nail-bat on the outside of his right forearm. He’d wanted to get something spontaneous but still meaningful and there was nothing more meaningful than protecting the kids that have looked up to him for years. The pain of getting the tattoo was addicting too, he was already planning more despite the suffocating depression threatening to choke him.

“Yeah?” Steve cleared his throat harshly as he tried to speak after his days-long silence. “You like it?”

Robin nodded exuberantly while Eddie took a seat at the edge of the bed. “It’s totally metal, dude! It makes you look even more handsome, Stevie.”

When his eyes widened, Eddie backtracked. “Not that you weren’t handsome before! You were pretty, still are pretty! I just really like tattoos and it like, it adds to your prettiness! Because you’re pretty!”

Steve watched him flounder until eventually, Eddie cut himself off with an aggrieved hand to his mouth. “Thanks, Eds.”

He gave him a stilted nod before Robin took pity on him and pulled Steve’s attention away from Eddie’s reddening cheeks. “So are you having an episode? We can go downstairs to cuddle and watch movies. Munson and I took time off work for a couple of days to spend time with you.”

Steve felt tears spring to his eyes but nodded nonetheless. “That would be great. I missed you guys and I’m sorry I pulled away, it’s just-”

“No apologies necessary, Stevie. We’re here now and we can help you out. Now c’mon, I want to judge your movie selection,” Eddie said, offering him a hand out of bed. 

They would deal with Steve’s coping skills and shaky mental health later. The rest of their night was spent watching crappy movies, eating junk food, and cuddling with each other. If Robin saw Eddie and Steve holding hands, well, that was no one’s business but her own.

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[gay-dorito-dust]

Name a star after me

You had begun a tradition within the borderlands. For every player that died in a game, you would name a star after in memoriam. It didn’t matter whether you were temporary allies or not because in the end you were all humans fighting for survival; whilst the game makers sat comfortably, taking great pride in making you suffer by playing the games. They didn’t deserve to be amidst your starry memorial if this is what they found entertaining.

So after the most recent game it was already night when you arrived back at the apparent complex you were all hunkering down in for the time being. You made your way to the rooftop and named four more stars after the fallen players. Two were on your side, two weren’t. “I am thankful for your participation in the game today, I’m sorry it didn’t end the way you would’ve wanted nor you got the proper burial you all deserved but at long last, you are free from all pain now.” You whispered to the wind in an almost silent prayer.

You opened your eyes and just as you were about to join the rest within the lobby in making your next move, Chishiya was blocking the exit with his body. “It’s dangerous to be up here all lone and defenceless.” His voice filled the air as he attempted to scare you away from rooftops all together but you’ve played these games as long as he had at this point, that you knew never to leave to go anywhere without some protection. You wordlessly pulled out the pocket knife you’ve picked up along the way from your pocket and showed it to him.

“First of all, not defenceless.” You told him as you tucked it away again, “and secondly, says the guy who isolated himself on the rooftop of the Beach. Multiple times, might I add.” You added, remembering the times that you caught glimpse of Chishiya’s fake blonde hair from the corner of your eye so often, that you believed for a short time that what you were seeing was a ghost. “You got me there.” Chishiya says as he made his way closer to you until you were across from one another. His eyes reflected the lights perfectly as it catches on his hair, making it seem silver whilst making the white of his hoodie practically illuminated him like a beacon.

“…Stargazing?”

“Excuse me?” Chishiya notions his head towards the star filled sky you were seemingly so transfixed on, “I said are you stargazing?”

“Oh no, I was just upholding a tradition I made since being brought here.” You told him and it seemed to peak his interest as he leant forward a little towards you. “Oh? And what would that be exactly?” He asked and suddenly you felt overexposed, vulnerable under his gaze and a tad insecure that he would find your tradition silly and or stupid. “After every game I would wait until nightfall to name a star or stars after the fallen players in memoriam, seeing as I can’t exactly give them the proper burial that they deserve.” You told him but felt a little awkward afterward when he didn’t say anything other then stare up at the stars with a face full of thought.

“May I name one?” You blinked at his question and were just about to ask him what he meant before the realisation of what his words hit you and you just gestured to sky with an arm, “I’m going to name one Ippei.” Chishiya said, his eyes never tearing away from the ink black sky. “Ippei huh? Someone you met in a game?” You asked without trying to sound as though you were prying for more information but you knew it would be best if you made your intentions known to Chishiya; rather then have them hidden from him because in the end he always finds out.

“He was too much of a soft soul for the Borderlands.” Was all he told you as you both stood in mutual silence which was then disrupted when the man next to you asked you the most unusual question. “Would you ever name a star after me when I die?”

“That’s not going to happen for a long while but yes, I’d name the brightest star after you Chishiya.” You told him honestly as he raised his brows at you quizzically, “you have that much faith in me?” He asks, once again moving a little closer to you in hopes of not misconstruing your answer. “No.” you admitted, moving away from him to the railings that kept you or anyone from going over the edge, staring out at the desolate city with familiar eyes.

“No one here is invincible because they happen to be good at a particular game. Everyone is bound to slip up and make a mistake,” you paused to smile to yourself before continuing, “but I just know that you’re smart enough to prevent that from happening.” Chishiya hums in satisfaction of your answer. “Chishiya?” He hums again, “would you…if I were to die, would you mind in continuing my tradition and name a star after me?” Now it was his turn to be a little confused at your request. He knew that you were smart enough to get yourself out of a tight pinch but to go as far as to predict your own death and ask him to carry on your traction was bound to leave him a little curious.

“What makes you so certain that you’d be dying anytime soon?” He asks.

You shrug your shoulders as you then turned your eyes to the stars above, “I don’t. But tell me, is it better to enter every game knowing it could quiet literally be your last or go into every game thinking that your untouchable? Impervious to death as though favoured by the game makers of this forsaken battleground?”

Chishiya made his way next to you, leaning his arms against the railings as he watched the stars alongside you. “I don’t have an answer for that question. However I think our best course of action would be to prove ourselves wrong and not die so that we may continue to come here and carrying out your tradition; As a means of keeping whatever ounces of sanity we have left intact of course.” He said, not once tearing his eyes away from the stars but his hand crept over your own, squeezing it tightly in some form of reassurance.

“Of course, why else other then to keep our last shreds of humanity together.” You echoed, squeezing his hand back as you slowly learnt your shoulder against his.

[tewlypaz]

NO TIME TO DIE

lauie laurence x fem!reader

PLOT — In which, you’ve fallen gravely ill. But it’s much worse than you could’ve thought, sepsis. You’ve now been informed that you only have a single week to live.

INCLUDES — love confessing, a lotta angst, hurt/comfort, also a lot of crying so ☹️

One week.

One week was all you had.

It wasn’t enough, you wanted more time. There were so many things you wanted to do.

You now lay in your bed with tear streaks down your cheeks, helpless, you couldn’t get out even if you wanted to, you felt weak.

You stared at the painting across from you, it was beautiful. It took your mind off of your infection for a while now.

You didn’t want to leave, you hated yourself, you couldn’t sleep, you cried too much.

There was one other thing that took your mind off of your suffering.

Laurie Laurence.

Laurie visited you everyday since he got the news, the first time he heard, he rushed over to your house and found you in your bed.

Tears in his eyes, he hugged you, thoughts were racing through his mind, he didn’t want to lose you, he’d rather die first than lose you.

You fidgeted with your hands, there was nothing you could do.

You then heard someone knock on your wall

“Hey.” He said.

“Hi, Laurie.” You said, your voice was hoarse and raspy.

He sat down next to you, you could tell he was tired.

“How’re you feelin’?” He asked, you could hear his voice breaking.

“I’ve been better.” You said. “H’bout you, how’ve you been?”

“I-“ He croaked. “I’ve been- I’ve been good.” You could tell he wasn’t, tears were swelling in his eyes

You nodded, pursing your lips together. You put your hand on his, then sat up closer to him.

“You’re sure?”

He hesitated, how could he not? he was going to lose you, forever. He was devastated.

A single tear streamed down his face. You raised your hand to wipe it away with your thumb.

"I don't feel any pain." You reassured him, he knew, but he still couldn’t bear to see you like this.

He put his hand on yours as his tears streamed down his face, he laid his head on your shoulder, you wanted to cry. You tangled you fingers in his dark curly hair, you only wanted to spend the rest of your days with him. Then you snapped. You were going to pass away, there was nothing stopping it, you wish there was, oh, how you wish there was. Your heart ached at the thought of you breathing your last.

“If I could take this away from you. I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

• • •

Morning came, a week had passed by as if it was nothing, you woke up with tears down your cheeks, nothing but tears.

Your mother came running into your room, and wrapped her arms around you.

“My dearest daughter.” She cried.

“Oh, mother.” You said, as you pulled away.

She then sat up, and dried her tears. “So, me and your father, we have a small surprise planned.”

“Really?” Your eyes glinted with hope.

She nodded.

You then watched with a smile as everyone in the March family came through your door, including Laurie.

Jo, Meg, Amy, and Beth all came up to you and wrapped their arms around you, this was the happiest you’ve felt.

Amy, being the most excited, said, “We’ve each decided to bring you a small gift, of course, ‘twas Laurie’s idea, after all.”

You turned to Laurie to find him smiling at you, you then smiled back at him.

You smiled at them in awe. “Thank you guys, you honestly didn’t have to do ALL of this.”

“Nonsense.” Meg said. “We all love and care for you, we wanted to show that.”

Each of the March sisters passed around their gifts, as you thanked them, you couldn’t help but feel sad, not because they weren’t want you wanted, no, because you had no use for them, you truly loved every single gift, but, after today, you’d have absolutely no use for them, you fought the urge to cry, yet again.

“Thank you, guys, this truly meant a lot.”

They then all went and hugged you once more.

“We really do love you.” Amy said.

“As do I to you.” You said.

• • •

Laurie was the last one to leave, he couldn’t think for once to leave you alone.

Laurie sat beside you on your bed, you could see the sunset peeking through your curtains and shining onto this face.

“Laurie, I can’t thank you enough for doing this.” You say.

“I only did it for you.”

You smiled at him.

“I care for you, I really do.” He reassured.

“I’d do anything for you.”

Your smile dropped halfway, you did and didn’t believe what he was telling you.

He hesitated. “I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Your eyes glistened in the sunset, his words felt like stones being carried off your shoulders.

“Laurie…” Was all that slipped out.

He inched closer, and caressed your hand with his.

His voice was like a whisper in the wind.

“My darling,” He began. “When you smile, the earth shakes, the universe stops, the heavens collapse, and my heart bursts.”

There was a beat.

Happiness was an understatement for what you felt in that very moment, not even the words of God himself could describe your emotions, your facial expressions didn’t move, but your eyes…your eyes said it all.

Your eyes shined up at him like the waters from the shining ponds in the backyard. He then pressed his forehead against yours, as he said,

“I love you.”

Your hand reached up, and caressed his face, he then put his hand on top of yours.

He looked so pretty.

Though you’d be gone by sunrise, you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, everyday, forever, you’d taken yourself for a fool, the day you fell for him, you were taken aback by your emotions. You couldn’t trust them, then, you grew fond of them, you realized you knew what real love feels like, it felt wonderful.

You shut your eyes, tears streaming down from your eyes, it was all too much.

Laurie tsked silently.

“C’mere.” He said, he laid you down as he did next to you.

You laid your head on his chest, you felt safer, but your emotions still came flooding out.

His hand was buried in your hair, knotting it, you couldn’t care less, you just wanted him next to you, only you and him, forever.

As you were falling into your eternal sleep, you uttered 4 words that stuck with him forever.

“I love you, too.”

[siyooungi]

blood

Pairing: Vampire!Yuna x Fem!Reader

Idol: Shin Yuna (Itzy)

Warning(s): mentions of blood!!

I wanted to post something for Halloween but I didn’t have time, unfortunately. However, I did as of recently! So, here’s a late Halloween post.

-

Never did you think you’d be living with a vampire, let alone dating one, but here you are. It was honestly amazing for you and it was for Yuna too, but some difficulties arose while dating a human. She completely cut off drinking from humans and chose to resort to the blood of animals. You could tell it was affecting her, despite her constantly reassuring you that she was fine.

There she was, sitting on the couch with her eyes heavier than ever. She was fatigued and not from the regular exhaustion that humans experience. Instead, it was from the emptiness she felt from depriving herself of her natural instincts, which was to often drink from humans. Her energy hadn’t been the highest, but it wasn’t at an all-time low, thanks to you. She promised she wouldn’t drink it ever again, especially with you as her girlfriend, who just so happened to be human.

She didn’t mind putting away human blood, but she couldn’t lie and say that it hadn’t taken a toll on her. Animal blood did suffice, but it wasn’t the same.

Yuna released a heavy sigh, letting her eyes close momentarily. You were washing the dishes and the sound caused you to look up. “What’s wrong, my love?” You asked as you turned off the running water, placing the dishes in the dishwasher. She opened her eyes and turned her head to you, her red eyes boring into yours.

“I’m just a little tired, that’s all.” She responded, sending a small smile your way. You looked at her inquisitively, wondering why she would be tired at this time, but then it dawned on you.

You dried off your hands and made your way over to her, plopping down beside her. She let her head fall on your shoulder and you lifted your hand to caress her cheek. Of course, it was cold to the touch, but you’ve become accustomed to that over the past year.

“You know I’d do anything for you, right?” You asked, earning a hum in response. “You also know that I trust you with my life, right?” You continued, causing her to look up from your shoulder and look at you with her eyebrows furrowed. You gave her a knowing look and her eyes immediately widened.

“Absolutely not.” Catching on to what you were implying, she quickly dismissed the idea of her drinking from you. She was shocked that you’d even indirectly offer such a thing.

You placed your hand on top of hers and gave it a small squeeze. “I hate seeing you in pain.” You stated as you caressed the back of her hand with your thumb. “I would rather suffer than go to such measures.” She responded before looking away from you and crossing her arms, creating some space between the two of you.

You scooted closer and used your index finger to turn her face to you. Her ruby-colored eyes stared right into yours. You could tell that she was trying her best to fight the exhaustion and put on a facade.

“Sweetheart, there’s no need to resist.” You reassured as you slightly tilted your head so your neck was more visible. She took a quick glance at your neck before locking eyes with you again. Her fangs were digging into her bottom lip and you were sure blood would be drawn if she bit down any harder. “Just give in..” You whispered as you held her chin, slowly bringing her closer to your neck.

Any protests she was ready to make, were no longer a thought once her mouth was a mere inch away from your neck. “You’ll feel better and I’d rather it be me than some stranger.” You spoke softly as you placed your hand on the back of her head.

“I love you.” She mumbled against your neck, placing a chaste kiss on your collarbone before trailing up higher. She placed her hand on your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, signaling that she was going to do it. You closed your eyes as you felt her fangs graze your skin. Surprisingly, you weren’t scared, but rather thrilled.

Her fangs sunk into your neck and instead of pain, you felt a strange sense of euphoria. Warmth had spread through your body, especially to your cheeks. You could easily get lost in the pleasure and you were sure Yuna would to. However, she managed to stop herself and pull away, licking any blood residue that dripped from the puncture wounds and from her lips. She had great self control and only drank little from you. Not only because you were her lover, but also because she didn’t work this hard to control herself all these years for nothing.

When she brought her head up to face you, she was met with you smiling at her. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” You asked, causing her to chuckle. She playfully rolled her eyes before speaking. “No, but I won’t be doing it anymore.” She responded sternly, but smiling soon after.

“You did taste amazing though.” She added before winking at you. “Yah!” You squealed and hit her shoulder, causing her to chuckle. You shoved her shoulder and she dramatically fell over onto the other side of the couch.

“I have vampire strength yet it feels like you’re stronger than me, sometimes.” She muttered as she sat back up, causing you to immediately push her back down while giggling.

Your laughter was so infectious that she joined in and pulled you down with her, resulting in you falling right on top of her. She wrapped her arms around you and she didn’t realize that was going to be a “mistake.” Your hands were on both sides of her head and you leaned down to place kisses all over her face, only increasing her giggling.

[thatgirl4815]

hi not to keep annoying you but i was in the ray tag (again lol) and i saw your post from before episode 6 aired about how damaged ray was gonna be after mew punching him... and so i rewatched pt 2 of episode 7 and mew tells ray he broke up with top, then says hes sorry for punching him but wanted to confront top on his own, and ray doesn't say a single thing the whole time. like he does not say he forgives mew or anything he just sits there.

i thought it was so interesting how little ray actually says that scene. like he sees his friends for the first time since his pain exploded at yo's then got into a car accident and they don't really talk about why ray did it or the impact it had on ray, they talk about everyone else. this compared to the scene before where ray and sand "talk about life's problems to heal their bodies and souls".

anyway now im wondering if we'll ever know the impact mew punching ray had on him, like is it sometime ray immediately forgave mew for, or is it something that he's not addressing but may bubble to the surface soon. or will ray not really sharing his feelings with them in general become a big issue (infamous episode 12 scene im terrified of you)

anyway i like that your meta posts are still interesting weeks later!

Hiiii! :) That’s a great observation. It also reminds me of how Ray reacts to his friends calling him a burden in Ep1; he’s visibly angry and then he just stalks away, leaving them to wonder what’s made him so upset (the lack of awareness from the members of this friend group is honestly insane). Ray’s friends have every opportunity to ask Ray if he is okay or question the source of his behavior, but they never do. Because they’re ignorant or because it makes them uncomfortable? I’d say it’s a mixture of both.

Ray seems to prefer burying all of his pain. It’s why he’s turned to alcohol as an outlet; rather than face the source of his suffering, he’d rather tuck it all away and distract himself. The only time we really see him open up about anything is in the bathtub flashback scene and a few scenes with Sand.

I think Ray is hurt about Mew lashing out, but I think he prefers to push that pain down too rather than risk losing Mew. Ray puts Mew on a pedestal, and he’s understandably terrified of scaring Mew off when Mew is the person he cherishes most. When it comes to Sand, Ray is more likely to lash out and say how he truly feels, which ironically seems like a healthier form of communication (despite it seeming to indicate that Ray isn’t as concerned about Sand’s feelings). I just wonder how long it will take Ray to acknowledge how much he values his ease of communication with Sand.

I would love to see Ray blow up at Mew or any of his friends about the way they treat him, though I’m not sure it’ll actually happen. I think all of their “burden” comments eat away at Ray, but I think he’s used to it by now. I would like to see the friend group come to the realization that Ray really does need help and they’ve been ignoring it this whole time. No one is entirely blameless here, and Ray’s blowup in Ep6 was a very clear sign that he needs help and is even a danger to himself…but of course these issues were swept under the rug yet again by everyone except for Sand.

[finniestoncrane]

Let Me Soothe You

Dano!Riddler x AFAB!Reader, word count: 1.3k thank you @tomhiddlesmom for requesting something i needed at this very moment because i have digitally synced up and we are all suffering with period pains, so this is for the afab's, the folks with vaginas, the people who get periods because that shit fuckin sucks 💚 afab reader with gender neutral terms otherwise request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: self-image issues, mentions of period pains, chubby!eddie, comfort, kissing, nudity, period sex

On his way out of the apartment, backpack on, Eddie stopped to say goodbye. He had his thick, green jacket on, heavy backpack with him, which meant he’d be gone a while. Out with his friends, the ones he chatted to online a lot. You liked it when he went out, you didn’t push him to tell you any details, you were just glad he had finally found some friends. So you tried your hardest to push the pain from your face and reassure him you’d be fine without him for the evening.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah! Go have fun!”

“You’re not ok, why would you lie to me?”

Instant guilt and regret, you tried to sit up straight on the sofa.

“No, Eddie, I’m really ok, I just ah…ah…oof…”

He was frozen in panic, dropping his backpack, which thudded with an odd metallic noise to the floor, and knelt in front of your doubled over body.

“Honestly, Eddie. I’m not lying, I’ll be totally ok. I’m just being…dramatic.”

“I don’t think you are…if something is up you should react. I’m going to stay in this even-”

“No, Eddie, don’t! Please go out and have fun, but on your way back if you could get some uh…pain medicine.”

“See! Please, tell me what’s wrong!”

It was hard to keep him like this, despite how oddly embarrassed you were. Seeing how concerned he was caused you a significant amount of distress too, and that only made your cramps worse.

“It’s…I have really bad cramps right now. And my back hurts. And my head hurts. And my skin is so sore and oily and dry too!? How is that fair? And my stomach is bloated, and I look horrible, and I feel horrible and everything is making me angry and if my stupid body cramps one more time I’m going to oooh…ow…I’m going to scream.”

“Oh. You’re period!”

“Urgh…yes.”

“You should have said, I can fix that! Or…I can make it tolerable at least…sorry.”

Staring into his eyes, his cheeks blushing at what he thought was his little faux pas, you took his cheeks in your hands and pressed them together, his glasses lifting up lightly as you pushed them in and wiggled them softly.

“Eddie, don’t be sorry. You’re the sweetest. But please, I would rather you went out and had fun with your friends!”

“With my…friends! Yes…They won’t mind. I can rearrange…I’d rather be here with you.”

“Really?”

He stood up and put his hand to his forehead, saluting you.

“It is my sworn duty as Edward Nashton, your boyfriend, to do boyfriend things like make you feel better.”

“You’re a dork.” You giggled and took the hand which he now held out for you, lifting you up from the sofa and wrapping himself around you, kicking his backpack under his desk. With his hands on you, he let his thumbs press gently into your lower back, moving them and finding his pace and pressure as he noted the soft moans of relief you let out. He tentatively soothed your skin, kissing your cheek and neck as he did so, never softening his hold on you.

“Ok, I can only do so much, I think I should run you a nice, hot bath.”

He left you to get undressed in the bedroom, smiling at you when you arrived wrapped in your towel, averting his eyes and clearing his throat as you dropped it to get into the bath, perfect temperature, your favourite bubble bath, a candle lit on the side.

“Can I do anything else for you right now?”

“You could get in with me.” You winked at him, only half-joking.

“I uh…I couldn’t fit in with you, I’m too big, I’d crush you.”

“Oh, Eddie come on!” You splashed at the bubbles, uncovering yourself under the water, giggling when you noticed his lingering stares. “There’s plenty of space for you.”

“I don’t think you want your relaxing bath ruined by me and my big butt getting in your way.”

“You don’t know me at all, do you Nashton?”

Pulling him in for an unexpected kiss, he lost his balance from where he sat on the edge, sliding in butt first, completely soaked on the bottom half.

“Eddie! I’m so sorry.” But you were stifling laughter. He looked adorable. Sopping wet, the splash covering his glasses and hair, his plain t-shirt he wore soaked through. Which, now that you noticed it, was skin tight, pressed against his stomach, his chest, clinging to all of his precious lumps and folds. You weren’t laughing anymore, you were licking your lips.

He was fumbling with his glasses, trying to brush his wet, matted hair away from his forehead, smiling at the situation, as you leaned forward, letting yourself lie on top of him, wet, sticking to him, kissing him as he let out a soft moan of surprise, his arms around you again. He started shivering though, and you leant back, trying to apologise, but he wouldn’t hear it.

“No, it’s ok! I better go get changed though. You stay here, enjoy your bath.”

But as soon as he had left the room, you got out, wrapped in your towel, following him, hugging him from behind, letting your hands glide over his bare stomach and chest.

“Hey! What a waste of a bath.” He kissed your nose as he turned around.

“I know, but what I want most is to be with you. That would make me feel much better.”

“How are the cramps?”

“Still there. Determined.”

“Is there anything else that works for them?”

“Uh…depends how adventurous you feel.”

He had an inquisitive, but nervous look on his face. Although, that was how he often looked, his natural expression of curiosity mixed with anxiety.

“Orgasms. Orgasms help. But I get it if you’re not interested in-EDDIE!”

You were on your back in the bed, Eddie on top of you, his soft, warm skin meeting yours as he pressed kisses down your chest, over your stomach and to your lower abdomen, trying to soothe the pain with his love and affection. Ravishing you. It was his skill. He was so romantic, passionate, the way he kissed and touched was tender and filled with adoration, worship.

He let his fingers drift to your entrance, looking up to meet your eyes briefly.

“I know, it doesn’t take much like this. Permanently in pain, permanently horny.”

Eddie let out a groan as he made his way back up your body with his lips, settling his head between your neck and shoulder, biting the skin gently and licking with his tongue as he pressed his tip to you, moving slower than he usually did, pressing in and out gently and with a fair amount of caution.

“I’m not wounded, Eddie. You can…just be natural.”

He growled into your ear.

“You’re the boss then.”

He ground his hips down onto you, pushing himself inside, breath shuddering as you tensed around him, stretching for him, wrapping your legs around his lower back to hold him closer. His mouth at your chest, he took your nipple between his lips, then his teeth, softly holding it as he dragged his tongue across it, flicking quickly, kissing and sucking in alternatives, moaning in response to your soft groans and whimpers.

“Eddie…Eddie…”

“This is…this is good…this is…you’re so…”

“I’m so close…please, Eddie…”

Sensing you close to the edge, he let his thumb press down on your clit, rubbing it as he thrust, cumming quickly after you as you came around him, panting into your ear, letting lazy, sloppy kisses fall onto your cheek, your neck, your shoulder.

“Do you…do you feel better?”

Holding him close as he lay there, still inside of you, his soft body on top like a hot water bottle, soothing your pain and making you feel so loved, so safe and comfortable.

“I feel perfect, Eddie.”

[toldbytendo]

Why I no longer want to be called a ‘Strong Black Woman’

At twenty-three years old, I’m realising that I actually cannot recall a single time that I expressed my feelings to someone, whether it be a family member, a friend, a partner or even a colleague without somehow being reminded that I am a ‘Strong Black Woman’ and I am officially tired.

For hundreds of years Black women have been commended and saluted for their resilience and how ‘strong’ we are, how easily we combat the situations we’re faced with and how there’s not a single trial or tribulation that could possibly destroy us. It’s like this mask, this persona that we’ve been forced to put on our entire lives despite how unfair, unrealistic and damaging it truly is, especially for our mental health and frankly it needs to die; not end, it needs to die. 

It’s not a compliment anymore, honestly, it never was. What’s more outrageous and trifling about this ‘Strong Black Woman’ trope is that it’s honestly just not true, not like it was when it first came to fruition. I’m sure decades before the Civil Rights Movement, Black women were called strong of course, but it was during this period of racial discrimination and constant prejudice that the ‘Strong Black Woman’ narrative was magnified but newsflash, we’re not living in this world anymore, yes - racial prejudice is alive and well as we know all too well but we are no longer fighting segregation and apartheid every single day and yet the ‘strong Black woman’ narrative lives on?

Why? 

Because, the ‘Strong Black Woman’ schema is an archetype an, identity that most Black women assume unconsciously, it’s passed from generation to generation and we’re encouraged to wear that identity like a badge of honour; much like the ‘work twice as hard as everyone else to succeed’ notion. It’s simply another part of 'Black Womanhood'.

This narrative has three main components; emotional restraint, independence, and worst, worst, worst of all self sacrifice - where we as Black women are encouraged to put everyone else’s needs before our own, partners, children, friends even employers, we’re celebrated for putting everything and everyone else first and ourselves, last. 

Admittedly, when I was younger, maybe ten or eleven years old, I used to love being called a ‘strong Black woman’. It made me feel like a superhero, I felt like Wonder Woman, it was a beautiful title to me, with beautiful connotations,  it made me feel indestructible and powerful; like whatever the world threw at me, I’d be able to survive it and it made me feel somehow much more bonded to all the incredible Black woman in my life, I felt such a profound sense of sisterhood and community. It was only as I got older, in my early teens that I began to question it and question how it made me feel, I would watch the Black women in my life experience hardships and simply keep moving, despite the fact that I could see their suffering, I remained in awe, my admiration and love for Black women continued as did my pride in them for remaining ‘strong’ even when I knew how difficult things were for them. In all of this pride and admiration I had for the Black women around me, I also remember feeling such a huge sense of disappoint and shame in myself for how short I seemed to fall from this title, this ‘badge of honour’ I started to feel so undeserving, like the pain and sadness that I felt somehow made me weak, that I was somehow failing at being a Black woman.

The turning point for me has been quite recent, and I’ve realised that it’s coming from a place of frustration, sadness and anger. It feels as though everywhere I look, particularly on social media but even in movies and television this hugely detrimental stereotype is still being perpetuated. It  promotes this rather dangerous ideology that the very nature of Black womanhood is to remain ‘strong’ and ‘capable’ through everything, all trauma, all pain, physical and emotional. These micro-aggressions are harmful in so many ways; they minimise the severity of Black women’s issues, and this idea that we are better at ‘managing’ and ‘coping’ discourages Black girls and women from speaking up when they need to seek help from support services. 

Having been diagnosed with depression and anxiety at multiple stages of my adult life left me with feelings that I absolutely shouldn’t have had because of this archetype. I felt like a failure, as though the state of my mental health somehow made me less of a Black woman because we’re inherently resilient. I’m expected to have my ‘little moment’, cry it out, scream, and then go back to being this monolith, and to maintain this strong maternal, nurturing, confident persona once again because I am ‘strong’. When in reality, all I want is to be validated, to be reassured that it’s okay not to be strong all the time and that I don’t need to have it together every moment of every day and to be told I’m not going absolutely mad (typically after a series anxiety attacks and sleepless nights.) 

If that’s not enough - cue the depression! That long period that feels like an eternity in your mind where you’re feeling at your lowest because by simply feeling just a little bit of human emotion, for not existing as this monolith and figurehead of strength and determination, you’re falling short of what society demands you to be. It’s guilt, shame, embarrassment, loneliness and isolation all mixed together and hitting you all at once. You start to blame yourself because it’s your brain. You start to wonder, why am I not strong enough to just ‘snap out of it’? Maybe I’m just weak, a snowflake. Imagine every possible self deprecating thought a human being could possibly have and it’s all because we’re feeling more than society tells us we should. 

This stereotype puts tremendous and completely unrealistic expectations on Black women, and little girls from very early on. How can anyone expect a Black woman to be constantly nurturing and maternal but to not lose her identity, to be sensual, but still not a whore, to be strong but still maintain a sense of cuteness and femininity, to be independent, self-sufficient but still submissive and ready to be led, confident but still shy in a hyper feminine way that makes men feel 'manly'. It’s virtually impossible to be a woman in general but women of colour carry this burden on a much more damaging scale because we’re not given the room to be weak, to experience vulnerability without consequently being a failure, unable to live up to her expectation as a ‘Strong Black Woman’. 

I know I speak for a number of Black women when I say that what we need is to be listened to, to be heard but ultimately and most importantly, we need others to be strong for us, for once. Truthfully, in my experience, it is the most draining experience in the world feeling you need to exist as a ‘Strong Black Woman’, one that reaps absolutely no rewards.

We need to be given the space to be vulnerable and soft, we require the same capacity to have a full range of human emotion as other humans do, including anger and we especially need to be able to experience and voice this anger without facing another multitude of stereotypes such as ‘angry Black woman’ or micro-aggressions such as ‘sassy’ and ‘ghetto’. 

[angstyandromanticwriting]

Margot Robbie X Fem!Reader Angsty, Cute and Fluffy Imagine Prompt

!TW: Mention of previously attempting to commit suicide, implied suffering from depression, hints of separation anxiety + anxiety in general, self put-down(s) + elements of self-doubt, mention of having a poor relationship with family + being previously treated badly by them, swearing, injury detail, mention of wanting to die, implied previous sexual occurrence + sexual occurrence(s) in general, grief + death of a family member, self-harm intentions + self-harming, blood, being unconscious/falling unconscious, mention of previously having a near-death experience - if I’ve missed any, let me know ❤️!

“I’ll probably need something stronger than this,” you mused, after Margot had set down a glass of water on the table located on the other side of your hospital bed, before she sat back down beside it on the opposite side, “you’re planning on questioning me, right?”

“Maybe just a bit,” she answered truthfully, and you would wince, a pained expression on your face; she’d - not too long ago now - found you within your apartment attempting to rather gruesomely take your own life, feeling as if you deserved it to happen that way - and you would begin to feel guilty when you noticed that she still appeared to be somewhat shaken after seeing you the way she had, “just - promise me something, before I start.”

“Anything,” you replied, and she would faintly smile over at you, before intertwining the fingers of her shaky right hand with the somewhat paler fingers of your left one.

“Promise me you won’t lie to me anymore,” she requested, and you would falter, your eyes beginning to glisten a little whilst small tears began to invade them.

“Lie to you-? When have I ever lied to you?” You inquired, and she would frown, wishing you’d not play dumb after what you’d tried to do a few hours ago, now.

“You’ve lied to me every day,” she reminded you, and you would appear guilty again, your heart sinking a little whilst you stared ahead of you with a hurt look on your face; you had only been doing it because you didn’t want her to worry about you; didn’t want to get in her way anymore, “at least once - so you can start by not telling me that you’re okay, when you’re far from okay, because I wanna help you, Y/n; you’re my best friend, and if I lost you, I - I honestly don’t know what I’d do; I-..”

She would then hastily silence herself, before she could say anymore, whilst you were looking over at her again, a longing and hopeful expression on your face which would soon fade away once you’d heard her refer to you as her ‘best friend’, though you weren’t sure why - perhaps it was because you wanted to be more to her, and always had? “You’d be fine without me,” you mustered, whilst staring ahead of you dejectedly again, and allowing your tears - with great reluctance - to stream down your cheeks, “and don’t try and deny it; you don’t need to, because I know it’s true - I mean, look at me.” You would gesture to yourself, with a disdainful look on your face; you’d always hated yourself, and the poor way in which your family had treated you, before, only fuelled that hate you’d always felt.

Margot would frown, a hurt look on her face; she wished you could see yourself the way that she saw you, as she’d always seen you to be what she’d always believed that you were, ever since she’d first met you: perfect. “That’s not true,” she contradicted, “and what about you? You’re amazing, Y/n; perfect - you don’t give yourself enough credit, at all, when you really should, because your family was wrong about you, please tell me you know that.”

You would hesitate, as if you didn’t know, prompting her heart to feel as if it were sinking a little; she hated seeing you like this. “They weren’t wrong, at all,” you murmured, “everything they said about me was true-”

“No, it wasn’t,” she interjected gently, “don’t - don’t ever think that; they were just jealous of you, and of how talented you are.”

You would be surprised, glancing back at her whilst your eyes began to glint a little. “You-.. You actually think I’m talented?” You mused, and Margot would nod hastily without hesitation, whilst she smiled warmly back at you, prompting your heart to skip a beat, as well as to begin to race blissfully alongside her’s; she’d always had that effect on you, and you loved it, but not as much as you loved her, and had ever since you’d both first met at the college you’d both attended together.

“Of course I do,” she answered, “and I’m sure it’s not just me who thinks you are.” You couldn’t help, but allow your smile to grow somehow even more than it already had; she always knew how to cheer you up whenever you felt as if you were verging on breaking down. “Shit,” she murmured, remembering she had a meeting to get to which would be starting soon, “I should-” She would hastily check her watch, whilst you tried to hide your dejection; you hated being alone, and most of all away from her. “Yeah, I should go,” she murmured, a pained expression on her face, before she smiled sadly over at you, and carefully wrapped her arms around you; she didn’t want to leave you alone, either, unbeknownst to you, especially after you’d tried to take your life again, and the reminder would prompt her to falter, and hold you at arm’s length for a moment. “Don’t do anything stupid whilst I’m gone - in fact, promise me you won’t; t-that - that you’ll still be here when I get back,” she requested, her voice briefly trembling whilst she did, and you would nod faintly, whilst finding yourself gradually getting lost in her stunning icy blue eyes, prompting you to begin stammering a little whilst you tried to recover from your racing heart which was currently overwhelming you, and the urge you were trying to fight back to spill out your feelings for her; to lean forward and connect your lips to her’s - something you’d been longing to do for years.

“I’ll still be here when you get back,” you mustered, “I - I promise, but - you don’t have to come back, if you’re too tired, o-or - I dunno.. just - go back home, if you’d rather do that - don’t waste your time on me, especially when you don’t want to-”

“Hey,” she cooed gently, and you would fall quiet, getting lost in her eyes again, “you know I love wasting my time on you, don’t you?”

“I suppose I do,” you answered, and she would grin back at you, amused, “I have no clue why, though, I mean..” Her smile would fade away again, prompting your heart to sink a little; you hated seeing her upset, and wished you could be different, for her. “Don’t worry about it,” you continued timidly, and she would hesitate, wary of the time, before begrudgingly getting up after hugging you once more, “s-see you later, o-or - whenever, really.”

“See you later,” she reassured, before dragging herself out of the room, though she’d rather stay with you, and as soon as she’d gone, you would feel empty again, alongside her, anticipating every passing hour which would eventually lead to you seeing her again, for the best moments you’d ever had always turned out to be the ones that you experienced beside her.

🜚

Once she finally had returned, you would lighten up again, as if you hadn’t been feeling empty, and as if you hadn’t been feeling lost just a moment ago, before she’d walked through the door, and beamed over at you, making your heart begin to race again in the best way possible whilst you smiled shyly back at her, and your eyes glinted alongside her’s whilst she sat beside you again, and leaned over to wrap her arms around you. You would instantly return the hug, melting into her embrace, before you buried your face into her left shoulder, feeling warm and fuzzy all of a sudden. “I missed you,” you blurted out, unable to stop yourself, and Margot would appear flattered, as well as a little flustered, but she would try and hide it whilst she smiled warmly back at you again, resting her head on your left shoulder.

“I missed you, too,” she expressed, “sorry I took so long; I would have tried to leave sooner, but-”

“It’s okay,” you reassured, and she would express relief; she had been worried, and wasn’t sure why, “you’re here, now, and that’s all that matters.”

You would then wince, upon feeling that the thumb of your right hand was stinging a little bit again, and she would appear worried again, noticing that you seemed uncomfortable, and to be in pain. “You okay-? Do you want me to move?” She inquired, and you would shake your head hastily, before appearing embarrassed, blood instantly beginning to rush to your cheeks, prompting her to have to try and fight back a smirk.

“N-No, it’s not you,” you managed, your voice barely audible, and she would tilt her head partially, “it’s just my thumb; I got a paper-cut earlier whilst I was reading.”

She would express relief again, before appearing elated for a moment, as if she’d remembered something, and reaching for her bag. “I think I have band-aids in my purse, if you want one-?” She offered, and you would be surprised, not sure; you didn’t want her to feel as if she had to give you anything, or to try to help you.

“No, it’s okay,” you answered, “you don’t have to do that for me.”

“I know,” she replied, before smiling warmly over at you again, prompting you to forget how to breathe for a moment, “but I want to - show me your hand.” You would nod, before timidly showing her your right hand, and she would carefully apply the band-aid over the paper-cut you’d received, and you couldn’t help, but admire her, prompting you to blush even more prominently than you had, before; you were certain you’d never - for all the years you’d both known one another, and been friends - seen anyone more, or even as beautiful as her; everything about her had always been perfect, and this thought would prompt you to appear dejected again - why was she still here with you, when she was, and had always been everything better than you were? She deserved a better ‘best’ friend than you, for sure, and you knew she’d probably never feel the same way for you, anyway. “You still love staring, don’t you?” She teased, and you would falter, beginning to panic a little whilst you quickly bowed your head, and looked around the room as if you hadn’t been staring at her for a good couple or so minutes. She would then lean a little closer to you, and you would tense up, whilst your heart began to pound overwhelmingly, and you wondered if she could hear it, even finding yourself silently wishing she could. “Any reason why?” She pried, and you would shrug, finding yourself unable to speak, for a moment, and she would try and hide that your action had disheartened her a little. She would then sit back a little, and you would try and hide that you - too - were disappointed and saddened by the new gap between you both. “Your thumb should stop stinging, soon,” she stated, and you would nod gravely, forcing a smile up at her, but it would soon become genuine - all you had to do to prompt a smile to take control of your lips was look at her, and she would smile softly back at you. She would then remember the question she’d been desperate to ask you, ever since she’d found you in the bloody state that you had been, and taken you to the hospital - why? “Hey, um,” she began again, her voice close to a whisper, at first; she was afraid of it trembling, evidently, before she bowed her head a little, and began to fidget with her hands; she was worried about how you might react, and answer the question; worried that she’d been the one to prompt you to do this, though she wasn’t sure why, at first, “can-.. can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can,” you answered, before shyly intertwining the fingers of your left hand with the slightly shaky fingers of her right one, worrying you a little whilst you anticipated what her question might be, “I-.. I owe you a ton of explanations, so - fire away.”

“I just wanted to know - why? Why did you do it?” She managed, her voice briefly trembling whilst she did, and you would frown, beginning to feel guilty again. “If I did something to upset you, I - I’m so sorry, I really am - I didn’t mean it, whatever it was-”

“No,” you mustered, “don’t, Margot-”

“I just feel awful for it - t-tell me what I did and I swear I’ll never do it again; I can’t lose you,” she expressed shakily, fighting back her tears to the best of her ability, without any success, and strained sobs were even threatening to escape her; she was on the verge of breaking down, and you couldn’t help, but hate yourself for what you were doing to her, “I can’t, b-because - because I love you, Y/n, and I can’t do this without you-..” You would appear surprised, and a little in shock; you couldn’t believe it; you couldn’t believe that she - someone who had always been everything compared to the nobody that you believed yourself to be - felt the same way for you, whilst your heart began to pound again, and you felt as if you were drowning in elation, for a moment, until you remembered who you were, and would appear crestfallen again, worrying her even further. “I can’t even begin to imagine my life without you in it,” she continued, “a-and when I saw you lying on the bathroom floor, c-covered in blood, I-.. I really thought.. I really thought that I’d-.. lost you, and I didn’t know what to do; I was terrified, a-and I’ve never felt that way, before.” You would nod gravely, whilst you stared ahead of you, your vision blurred by your invading tears; you just wanted your heart to stop beating; wanted the pain to stop. “I love you, Y/n, and I’d never be able to forgive myself if I hurt you, s-so - tell me what I did,” she begged, and you would bow your head again, staring down at your right hand, and the band-aid on your thumb.

You couldn’t help, but smile, upon noticing it; it was another way in which she had been trying to heal you, and build you back up again, like she had been ever since she’d first met you; she’d still not given up on you. Why? You would then draw in a shaky breath; you couldn’t believe it; you just couldn’t - someone as perfect as her with a nobody like you? No way. “It wasn’t your fault,” you managed barely audibly, and she would hesitate, doubtful, “it’s all me; my stupid head, and thoughts; my stupid heart, wanting someone way out of my league; my stupid, but probably right family-”

“Wait,” she mustered thoughtfully, a hurt look on her face, and you would fall quiet, before timidly glancing over at her, and you would falter again when you noticed the tears that were currently streaming down her cheeks, prompting your heart to sink, “out of your league? Seriously? Y/n-”

“It’s true,” you insisted, whilst she shook her head hastily, “I’m not good enough for you-”

“You are,” she contradicted, “you always have been, and always will be, n-nothing could ever change the way I feel about you, I swear-”

“You deserve better than me,” you managed, “you always have-”

“S-Stop saying stuff like that,” she pleaded, wishing you’d stop putting yourself down like you currently were, but you looked as if you were about to continue, prompting her to lean forward again, and to delicately connect her lips to your’s, resulting in you falling quiet, and instantly melting into the kiss. Once it had sadly ended, and you found yourself wearing a dazed expression on your face whilst she affectionately connected her forehead to your’s, you would revel in the feeling of butterflies fluttering around in your stomach, and the strange warm and fuzzy feeling you were currently experiencing whilst she giggled softly, amused by your reaction, and used her right hand to play with your hair blissfully, making you feel even better, somehow. “I’ve wanted to do that for years,” she admitted, and you couldn’t help, but smirk back at her, whilst your eyes locked with her’s in the best way possible, “e-ever since we went on that trip together - remember it?”

“I could never forget it,” you mused, whilst you began to recall it as if it had happened yesterday, rather than quite a few years ago, now, whilst she buried her face into the crook of your neck, “it was-..”

•

You couldn’t help, but smile whilst visions of you and Margot sneaking away from the group who were currently together throwing a party blissfully invaded your mind, and then you would giggle softly, remembering how you’d both gotten drunk, that night, and went swimming together in the lake you’d both discovered, and you would then recall that the kiss had seemed somewhat familiar to you; it even - once you began to remember this particular night - prompted you to recall how - whenever you’d been longing to kiss her, after that day - it felt almost as if you were missing kissing her, though you’d had no recollection of doing so. You would try and dig deeper into the memory, but it all grew to be a blur once you recalled how you’d both spent some time chasing one another, occasionally splashing each other, before you pretended to drown just to get her to rescue you, which she did without hesitation, cradling you close to her in the water whilst you pretended to splutter a little, burying your face blissfully into her left shoulder whilst she cooed words of encouragement to you, and tried to provide comfort to you by stroking your hair with her free right hand. “You’re okay, now,” she whispered, whilst trying not to giggle; she had thought that your reaction to her wrapping her arms around your waist was funny, as well as adorable, evidently, “don’t worry, Flounder - I’ve got you, and I’m never gonna let you go until you want me to, I promise.”

“No,” you whined barely audibly, “I don’t ever want you to let me go.” You would then appear puzzled, before being forced out of the memory; you had clearly forgotten what had happened, after that, and would wonder if Margot had forgotten, too, but the flustered expression currently residing on her face suggested otherwise; you both had to have done something, that night - you just didn’t know what, yet.

“Wait,” you began nervously, and Margot would lower her gaze a little, evidently flustered again, “that night - did we-?”

“We might have,” she mused, “I mean - we were both drunk, so-.. yeah.”

“I must have been drunker than you, considering I can’t remember - that part, at all,” you remarked, and Margot would smirk over at you, amused by your reaction.

“Are you jealous?” She inquired, and you would appear to be taken off guard, your eyes widening a little, prompting her to giggle. “Don’t worry,” she cooed, before wrapping her arms around you again carefully, “next time - we most likely won’t be as drunk, so you’ll probably remember it happening.” You would then appear flustered, alongside her, but she was doing a better job of hiding it, than you were. “I love you so much,” she whispered, and you couldn’t help, but smile lovingly back at her, before you shyly leaned forward to delicately connect your lips to her’s, “and I always will, no matter what - don’t ever forget that, okay?”

“I love you, too,” you returned, before burying your face blissfully into the crook of her neck, “and it will only ever be you for me, I promise.” You would then notice that she appeared to be a little sleepy, prompting you to feel a little guilty, and as if you’d been keeping her awake. “You look tired,” you pointed out, and Margot would wince, before shaking her head gravely, “if you wanna go back home-”

“No,” she whined, “I wanna stay here, with you - could I.. maybe - sleep on your shoulder, for a little while?”

You would smile warmly over at her, whilst wondering what you’d done to deserve someone as perfect and adorable as her. “Of course you can,” you answered, and she would express relief, as well as elation whilst she rested her head carefully upon your left shoulder whilst trying to avoid where you’d been bandaged up; she didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, “I was made to serve you, anyway, so you don’t have to ask me next time, silly.” She would appear flustered again, before giggling softly whilst you used your left hand to play with her soft hair blissfully. “H-Hey,” you began again shyly, and she would hum quietly to show she was listening, “I just wanted to say - t-thank you, for everything that you’ve done for me; I probably wouldn’t be here, if it weren’t for you-.. Well.. No, I wouldn’t, b-because.. it was you who saved me.” You couldn’t help, but smile faintly over at her again, whilst blood rushed to your cheeks, and she would smirk when she noticed that you had begun to blush. “You’re too good to me,” you mused, “you always have been, a-and you’ve honestly - ever since I first met you - made my life so much better than it was, before.”

“I’m glad,” she replied, “because you’ve made my life better than it was, before, too, and of course you think I’m too good for you, ‘cause I wanna do everything I possibly can to repay you for making me happier than I was, before.”

“You don’t have to repay me,” you reassured, “you know that, right? You’re already repaying me by being here, a-and somehow loving me, the way I love you - it should be me repaying you, not the other way around.”

“Not at all,” she contradicted gently, “because guess what? You repay me by being here, and loving me, too; I don’t want anything more than that, just you.”

You would appear flustered, for a moment, as well as relieved, and content, wondering what you’d done to deserve a moment as perfect as this; someone as kind, and amazing as she had always been, when you believed she deserved so much better than you, and always had. “You may think that’s true, but - you’re never gonna stop me from spoiling you,” you remarked, and she would lift an eyebrow, whilst smirking over at you again.

“In that case, you’ll never be able to stop me from spoiling you,” she replied, and you would wince, before nodding gravely, and giving in; you knew she’d probably never back down, and you were right, “goodnight, daydreamer.” You would smile softly upon hearing the nickname; she must have just remembered it, after recalling that night you’d both possibly done something together on the college camping trip.

“Goodnight, Boo,” you returned shyly, before resting your head comfortably on top of her’s, and hesitantly letting your eyes close alongside her’s, though you couldn’t stop thinking about how you feared you’d only become even more of a burden on her after she’d saved you, and also feared that you’d only upset her, and couldn’t help, but think that she should still try and find someone better than you, until you finally managed to fall asleep, and avoided nightmares no doubt because of Margot being beside you, making you feel safe, warm, and more content than you had ever been before, filling your mind instead with only dreams of her, and your and her possible upcoming future together.

~-~

Once you’d finally been released from the hospital, Margot would insist that you live with her, evidently worried that she might walk into your apartment one day to find that you had attempted to take your life again; terrified, even, and to try and relax her, you would accept her invitation, and would smile softly when you noticed the relieved, and elated look on her face; she’d been waiting for this moment for a while, now; to finally be able to live with you, and not apart from you like she previously had been, with you staying in your apartment, and she in her own home, and you - unbeknownst to her - had been hoping you’d be able to live with her, too, for a while now alongside her; you hated being away from her, and this was why you often struggled to try and keep composure whilst she wasn’t with you, either alone at home, or out trying to find work for yourself, always unsuccessfully, and it pained you every day to have to tell her that nothing had worked out once she’d returned to you, but she didn’t blame you; she couldn’t; she loved you too much to, like you loved her too much to, too, and didn’t want you to have to worry about how she might react to the failed search.

On another of these occasions, she would return home to find you crying at the kitchen table, with your face buried into your hands whilst you sniffled into them, sobbed softly, and occasionally cursed yourself for being the way that you were. “Y/n-?” She cooed, and you would falter, quickly looking away from her after you’d lowered your hands; you didn’t want to upset her by showing her that you were crying, so you would try and act as if nothing was wrong, hastily wiping your eyes, tear-stained cheeks, though she already knew that you had been crying, and would wear a pained expression on her face; she hated seeing you like this, and just wanted to see you happy again. “Hey,” she continued gently, before rushing up to you, and throwing her arms around you, and you would instantly melt into her embrace, whilst you returned the hug, and buried your face into the crook of her neck, “talk to me - what’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing,” you claimed shakily, your voice close to a whisper, and she would frown, shaking her head gravely, before she held you at arm’s length, wishing you’d stop lying to her, “I’m fine; I’m just tired-”

“Don’t lie, please,” she begged, and her now glistening eyes were begin to plead with your own, whilst you felt your heart beginning to ache; you hated upsetting her, “just tell me; I want to help you - you can’t take on all of this alone, Y/n; you just can’t.”

“I can,” you contradicted, and she would shake her head hastily, “I’ve done it before-”

“Yeah - And you then tried to take your own life, remember?” She reminded you dejectedly, and you would frown, before nodding gravely, and bowing your head. She would then feel guilty, before sitting down on the chair beside the one you were perched upon, allowing her to hold both of your currently trembling hands comfortingly within her’s, prompting you to smile softly up at her whilst your heart began to race blissfully, alongside her’s. “L-Look,” she began again softly, “I just want-.. want to do all I can for you, daydreamer - you know that, right?” You would nod, not sure why she was bothering; you were sick of her wasting her time on you like she was, feeling as if she should just dump you like your family had. “I want you to be happy, again,” she continued, and you would nod again, “I love you, a-and - and you can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

“I know,” you managed, your voice close to a whisper, and she would express relief, glad; she had been worried that maybe you didn’t; that you’d forgotten, “I just.. I.. I don’t wanna get in your way; don’t want to upset you anymore-”

“Hey,” she cooed, “d-don’t - don’t ever think that you’re in my way, because I’m happy to be doing everything that I do for you - more than happy, in fact, and you’ve never upset me, I swear, n-never, except for the times you tried to take your life, but.. other than those times, you’ve never upset me.”

You would be surprised, as well as feeling guilty again, to hear that your suicide attempts had upset her. “But-”

“No,” she interjected gently, “no buts, Y/n; I love you, okay? And nothing will ever change that, I promise - you’ve never done anything wrong; you could never do anything wrong, so don’t ever worry about that - and don’t ever think you have to worry about how I might see you, because you are, and have always been perfect to me, and you always will be.” She would then shyly lean forward a little, and you would begin to feel overwhelmed again in the best way possible, whilst your heart pounded against your rib cage again, and you found yourself struggling to breathe. “Can I-.. kiss you?” She requested, and you would nod, prompting her to beam over at you, her eyes glinting, before she leaned even closer and delicately connected her lips to your’s, and you would instantly melt into the kiss. It would then soon begin to deepen, and she would then wrap her arms around you again, whilst you clung to her shoulders, and as soon as the kiss had sadly ended, you would giggle breathlessly alongside her whilst she connected her forehead to your’s affectionately, and began to stroke your hair with her right hand. “I love you so much,” she whispered, and you would begin to feel warm and fuzzy again.

“I love you, too,” you returned, whilst your heart soared alongside her’s, “I’ve never-.. felt this way before.”

“I’ve never felt this way before, either,” she admitted, “it’s all - new. Wanna know something?”

“Of course,” you answered, and she would appear flustered, for a moment, whilst blood began to rush to her cheeks; she was evidently finding that whatever she was thinking was incredibly cheesy, and she couldn’t help, but giggle again, prompting you to join her; her laugh was blissfully infectious.

“I’m - so glad I met you,” she expressed, “a-and - I honestly don’t know what I’d do, if I’d never spoken to you that day; I can’t imagine my life without you in it, at all, so - promise me something.”

“Anything,” you replied, whilst you shyly lifted your right hand up to her left cheek, prompting her to melt into your touch subconsciously.

“Promise me you’ll never try and-.. y’know.. take your life again,” she mustered, and you would falter, prompting her heart to sink in response to your hesitation.

You would frown, noticing the pained expression on her face, before hastily nodding; you didn’t wanna upset, or worry her again. “I’ll never do it again, I promise,” you reassured, “I love you, Margot - s-so much, and I’m so sorry, I really am - I should never have done it, I know, I just..”

You would then find yourself trying not to cry again, and she would shake her head, before easing you closer to her so she could cradle you, and close the remaining gaps between you both, soothing you instantly. “It’s okay,” she cooed, “don’t worry - I get it, I really do, but I’m gonna try and do more to help you, this time-”

“No,” you whined, “you shouldn’t have to do that for me-”

“I want to,” she reassured, “don’t worry, daydreamer; I’m happy doing what I do for you, remember? And I always will be.” She would then delicately connect her lips to your’s again, and you would smile softly against her lips, before the kiss grew to deepen again, and she would carefully pick you up, finding it a little easier than she had thought it would be, before, as you were a little shorter than her. You would giggle softly, prompting her to join you, evidently amused by your reaction to her carrying you out of the room, and slowly up the stairs to your and her bedroom.

🜸🜚🜸

Though you seemed to be doing well with keeping your promise to her for a couple or so weeks, you found yourself struggling again as soon as you had received a call from your mother to say that your aunt - the family member who you’d been the closest to - had passed away the night before, and you would falter, staring ahead of you for a moment whilst you began to panic; the fact that you’d never see her, or ever be able to talk to her again would hit you like a ton of bricks, and weigh down your heart instantly. You would then hastily end the call, before shakily setting down your phone, and leaning heavily against the kitchen counter; you’d been preparing coffee, after you’d had a relatively sleepless night, but all thoughts of it had instantly slipped from your mind, whilst you breathed heavily; shakily, and tears clouded your vision. You would then find yourself longing for Margot to come back, terrified; you felt so lost, all of a sudden, and as if you could have a heart attack; it was beating so fast - too fast, and you couldn’t calm yourself down, silently begging for her to suddenly walk through the front door, but she wouldn’t be back until later that day, disheartening you as a strained sob managed to escape your lips whilst you doubled over, and began to cry helplessly, unable to hold it back any longer. It was excruciating - knowing that someone who had been so close to you before; one of your best friends, had been there a few days ago, a few years ago, and now they were gone, as if none of the memories made meant anything; weren’t significant in the slightest. You remembered how, after your family had kicked you out, your aunt had offered you a place to stay in her own home, and you often confided in her about many things you’d been too afraid to tell anyone else: about you realising you were a lesbian, about your feelings for Margot not long after you’d met her whilst you both were going to college together, and about how you’d often been considering suicide whenever your depression hit it’s peak again. You would then, whilst you began to feel nauseous, dizzy, and faint, reach for your phone, but you found you couldn’t pick it up, feeling much too numb to do anything, and would give up trying as soon as you began to remind yourself of how Margot would probably be busy, prompting you to feel guilty, and to curse yourself for what you were trying to do; you didn’t want to burden her anymore, and would - whilst you began to doubt yourself again - wonder why she was still with you, especially after you’d still not found any other parts to play, prompting you to grimace, and shake your head gravely whilst you began to feel worthless again, before you dragged yourself out, taking your bag and a razor with you; you didn’t want to do what you were planning on doing within the house, knowing it would feel like you were breaking the promise you’d made to her if you did, and you couldn’t do that; you’d never forgive yourself if you tried, and that would only make things worse than they already had gotten in the matter of a few brief, and painful moments.

🜚

You had - after leaving a few cuts along your arms within one of the bathroom stalls of the closest bars to the house - briefly passed out, and would be surprised to wake up within an intensely bright room, and once your vision began to clear, you would realise that you were most definitely within one of the rooms of a hospital, and you would groan, guessing someone must have begun to worry about you, and gotten someone to break into the stall to get you out, and to a hospital as soon as they noticed the blood stains on your sleeves.

You would then find yourself aware of a buzzing sound to your left, and you would manage - barely - to turn your head in that direction, though you felt quite weak, and still quite numb after everything that had happened, only to find that it was your phone, and you would falter when you realised that Margot was calling you; she must have returned home to find you no longer there, and begun to worry; you’d promised her you would be there once she had got back, and evidently weren’t, prompting you to feel guilty, especially when you looked down at your bandaged arms, and were reminded of what you had done. You would then test your left arm by moving it a bit, and you would wince; it stung a little, but you would manage to fight the pain back enough for you to reach your phone, accept the call, and hold it up to your left ear; you couldn’t allow yourself not to answer, and not to try and reassure her that everything was okay; that she didn’t have to worry, and that you’d be back home soon. “Y/n-!” She chimed, as soon as you’d finally answered the call; she must have been trying to reach you for a while now, and you would frown, a pained expression on your face; you were sick of worrying her, and upsetting her all the time, and wished she’d just give up on you, and find someone better than you, though you knew it would hurt excruciatingly to lose her, after everything you’d both been through together, and everything you’d been dreaming of possibly happening for you both, like possibly getting married - something you’d dreamt of for years, ever since you’d first met her. “Thank God,” she mustered, her voice briefly trembling, and close to a whisper, prompting tears to invade your eyes again, “I thought-.. are you okay? W-Where are you?”

You would think about what you had been planning on telling her, but would instantly crumble; you couldn’t lie to her anymore; it would break you, and you were certain you couldn’t take anymore pain, or guilt; you couldn’t hurt her, or worry her anymore than you evidently already had. “I’m in the hospital,” you admitted, and she would falter, a pained expression on her face whilst she began to imagine the worst; that you must have tried to take your life again, though you’d promised her you wouldn’t, or that someone had hurt you, somehow, if you did end up going out, for a bit, like you had told her that you might.

“The hospital? W-Why? Hang on, I’m on my way-”

“No-!” You cried, feebly, and she would hesitate, falling quiet. “I - I’m okay, Margot, I swear,” you claimed, but she would appear doubtful, “they’re gonna let me go, soon, I promise; I just saw a fight, and - you know what I��m like - the sight of blood makes me pass out, a-and-.. when I woke up, I was suddenly - well, here; someone must have brought me here after I blacked out, but don’t worry - I’ll be back home soon, and I’m in perfect condition, last time I checked.”

There would be silence, for a moment, and it was painful, especially after you heard her sniffling faintly, prompting your heart to sink; she knew you were lying, unbeknownst to you, but she didn’t want to question you - not yet; she’d wait, until she got to you. “You promise?” She inquired, and you would nod subconsciously.

“I promise,” you answered, “s-see you in a bit.”

She would hesitate, not wanting to hang up, yet, but she would remind herself that she’d be seeing you soon, once the call was over, and she’d begun her journey to the hospital. “See you,” she returned, before forcing herself to end the call, and hastily grabbing her coat, before she rushed out to her car, whilst you stared tearfully up at the ceiling, your phone laying upon your lap; you could never deserve someone as good as her, you reminded yourself, and your heart would ache even more excruciatingly than it had, before, but you would try not to cry again, no matter how much the tears fought to escape; you believed you deserved the pain, and never the release of it - not anymore.

🜚

Once the doctors had finally decided that you could leave, after they’d examined you, and given you some advice you believed to be pointless, you would hastily walk toward the entrance, and falter when you noticed Margot just coming through the door, when she noticed you. “Oh, hey-!” You mustered, and Margot wouldn’t waste another second, rushing up to you. “You’re here-” She would then throw her arms around you, and you would instantly melt into her embrace whilst you relaxed, and returned the hug.

“Of course I am,” she cooed shakily, and you would frown, guessing that she was trying not to cry again, prompting you to hold her at arm’s length, and you would feel your heart sinking, whilst you began to feel guilty again upon noticing the tears that were currently running down her cheeks.

“Don’t cry,” you whined, a pained expression on your face, and she would wince, hastily wiping away her tears with her right hand, “I hate it when you cry; seeing you cry always makes me wanna cry, and me crying is far from pretty.”

She couldn’t help, but giggle faintly, before shaking her head a little. “That’s far from true,” she contradicted, and you would be surprised, “you’re always pretty, Y/n, even when you’re crying.”

“Really-?” You inquired, and she would nod hastily, evidently certain of herself that you were.

“No doubt about it,” she insisted, before carefully wrapping her arms around your waist, and you would smile lovingly over at her, before affectionately connecting your forehead to her’s, “so-.. this - fight - that you saw - where was it?” She couldn’t help, but think about what your method might have been to try and take your life, this time, and it would prompt her heart to ache excruciatingly again whilst she thought back to the night she’d found you close to death in your apartment, the first time.

•

“No,” she cooed shakily, whilst she relocated your left hand back up to the wound you’d made on your left side, and you would groan, shaking your head; you didn’t want her to help you, after everything you’d done; you believed she would be better off without you, and that - if she let you go - she wouldn’t be held back by you anymore, “just keep pressure on it, okay? The ambulance will be here soon, and they’ll make sure you’re good as new again-”

“Why are you doing this?” You questioned, your voice barely audible, and quite weak, prompting her heart to sink; she was terrified of losing you, and had been harbouring feelings for you for years, now, like you had for her ever since you’d first met her, unbeknownst to her.

“Because-.. I just - I can’t let you die, Y/n,” she answered, a hurt look on her face, and you would appear a little dejected, “why - why are you even asking me something like that? You’re my best friend; everything to me, a-and I honestly can’t imagine my life without you in it, so - please don’t move your hand, j-just for now; you’ve already lost too much blood, and can’t afford to lose anymore.” You would nod gravely, finding yourself stuck on the fact that she’d referred to you as her ‘best friend’, though you weren’t sure why, when you knew that that was probably all you’d ever end up being, to her. You would then wince, hearing the sirens of the ambulance approaching, whilst Margot expressed relief, evidently glad. “You’re gonna be okay, now,” she cooed, carefully cradling you close to her, and you would nod gravely, whilst melting into her embrace, and managing a soft smile; you felt safe within her hold, and as if you weren’t in excruciating pain anymore, “feel like you can stand up with me, or?” You would appear nervous, before nodding, and she would carefully help you to your feet, but you would soon appear unstable again, prompting her to lift you off of the ground, and carry you out of your apartment as fast as she could herself, to make things easier, and to get you out to the ambulance faster; she couldn’t let you lose anymore blood than you already had; couldn’t lose you, and luckily - she would manage to get you to it just in time, before you could fall unconscious, and possibly never wake up again.

“Where-?” You mused, your voice close to a whisper, and she would nod, whilst you tried not to panic, trying to think of something you could say; you were terrified of her finding out about what you did; that you’d left a few cuts along both of your arms, and not seen a fight, at all. “Just - o-outside,” you mustered, and Margot would frown, shaking her head gravely, wishing you’d just admit that you’d lied again, and had tried to take your life.

“Y/n-”

“I was - was going to go to the shops, a-and-”

“Stop, daydreamer,” she interjected gently, and you would falter, whilst tears began to invade your eyes, and your heart began to ache, “I know you’re lying to me, just-.. tell me what happened, please - why? Why would you try and do that, again?”

You would hesitate, before nodding gravely, knowing you couldn’t try and lie again. “My aunt,” you answered dejectedly, your voice close to a whisper, and Margot would tilt her head partially, appearing worried, “she’s-.. she’s gone.. my mother called me to tell me that it happened last night.”

Margot would realise, and begin to feel guilty instantly for trying to question you whilst she eased you closer to her, and began to stroke your hair with her right hand to try and provide comfort to you. “I’m so sorry,” she expressed, “that’s horrible - w-why didn’t you call me? I would’ve come straight back home.”

“I thought about it, but-..” You began again, whilst Margot affectionately connected her forehead to your’s again. “I don’t know,” you murmured, “I felt so-.. lost, and empty - after it happened, and I didn’t wanna burden, or upset you, too, s-so instead.. I guess I just.. decided to.. punish myself, for even thinking about getting you involved, and getting in your way again.”

She would frown, whilst a pained expression crossed her face, and her eyes began to fill with tears again. “You wouldn’t have gotten in my way by calling me, and telling me what happened, Y/n,” she contradicted, “I would have wanted to know so I could be there for you, a-and don’t think that me choosing to do that for you is me being burdened by you, because I never could be; I love you, Y/n - I love you, okay? And I want to do everything I do, for you; want to do everything I can to make you happy, and comfortable; and to give you the treatment that you do deserve, and somehow never got, except from me and-.. sorry.”

You would shake your head, managing a faint smile over at her, before you buried your face into the crook of her neck, and clung to her shoulders blissfully. “I miss her so much,” you managed, your voice barely audible, and Margot would nod gravely, whilst rubbing your back with her right hand to try and soothe you, “she was the only one out of them that I could really talk to, and.. it was just such a shock.. I’m sorry, Margot; I’ll never do it again; I can’t scare you like that again.”

“Promise-?” She requested, and you would nod, trying to fight back any hesitation.

“I promise I’ll never try and hurt myself, o-or try to commit suicide, again,” you replied, “not when I have someone as good as you by my side; my all-time best friend, a-as well as - the - the most beautiful and perfect woman in the world.”

She would appear flustered, her eyes glinting a little whilst blood rushed to her cheeks, and a smile would begin to play on her lips instantly. “Most beautiful and perfect? Are you sure you don’t mean yourself?” She inquired, and you would shake your head. “Well, I think that it’s you who is the most beautiful, and the most perfect, daydreamer,” she cooed, before shyly leaning a little closer so her lips were inches from your’s, and you would find yourself longingly glancing down at them occasionally, whilst your heart began to race blissfully alongside her’s, “I love you so much.” She would then delicately connect her lips to your’s, before you could protest and insist that it was her who was the most beautiful and perfect again, and you would instantly melt into the kiss alongside her, soon beginning to feel warm and fuzzy, and as if everything would be okay again. The kiss would sadly end when your stomach decided to rumble, embarrassing you, and prompting you to hide your face from her, whilst Margot smirked over at you, and tried to fight back a giggle. “You should probably eat something,” she suggested, and you would wince, before nodding timidly in agreement, “c’mon - I’ll drive you back, and make you something-”

“No,” you whined, “you don’t have to do that for me; I can make something-”

“I’m not changing my mind,” she stated, and you would groan, shaking your head; you didn’t want her to feel as if she had to do that for you, but you knew she was right; she would probably never change her mind.

“Fine,” you begrudgingly gave in, and she would beam victoriously over at you, evidently glad that you’d given in, “but I’ll only let you do it for me this one time - every other time it’s gonna be me making something for you.”

“We’ll see,” she replied, smirking over at you again, before she intertwined the fingers of her right hand blissfully with the fingers of your left one, silencing you before you could protest, and even prompting you to forget how to breathe for a moment, “come on, daydreamer, before it starts raining - the clouds are so grey today, and I can’t let my princess get a cold.” You would nod hastily, after being broken out of your brief trance of admiring her again, and finding yourself flustered by her remark, prompting you to forget both how to breathe again, and how to talk for a moment, before you followed her out of the hospital, and out to her car so she could drive you both back home, and attempt to nurse you back to health again mentally and physically, to the best of her ability; she was determined to make you happy again, no matter how long it might take for her to do so.

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed it! ❤️

[possiblyabug]

hm I don’t talk about it much on here but I do battle the demons in my head constantly, but I’ve realized the more I turn around to face them, and look at them directly, I see reality more clearly, I trust myself more, and I see that the negative voices are an old program, they’re not sentient, and I have more and more proof that they are flat out wrong about how the world works, the self inflicted suffering is going away, but it took the realization that I have to take action, thinking about doing the work was not the same as choosing to be conscious of my thoughts and decide to prove them wrong by trying out all the things the negative voices are afraid of, like communicate honestly and look at every part of myself and accept everything in my life as it is instead of creating a story that didn’t fit reality, my life doesn’t actually need a story for everything, but those negative voices will yell at me constantly saying exactly what will hurt the most because that’s how it is, but so what it’s only pain it can’t actually hurt me, pain is just what happens during growth, it’s supposed to work like that, it’s just the physics of this world that equal force is needed to undo, so the 30 years of pain I created will take a lot of fucking work, but it ain’t infinite, and I’d rather go down fighting than give up cause that shit is literal hell and I’m done with it

[mythgirlimagines]

DVHS Reread: Chapter IV.IV

Monokuma takes one look at her before starting the trial. "...You all know the drill at this point. I don't need that coming after my hide. So, ah, go ahead and begin!"

Monokuma is funny.

"Let me say this: fuck all of you!" Yoshida shouts right off the bat. Yasu's hands fly up in a surrendering gesture, and a look of insult crosses Aoyama's face. Nobody else reacts much. I'm not even that surprised. "It was because of all of you that this happened and you know it. None of this would've happened if we'd shared the secrets, or you actually believed her, or-"

Yoshida, to me, is interesting to see in these heated moments. Obviously she’s justified in anger, though it’s misplaced at least a little here. This also goes into an early-trial Panic Talk Action or whatever it’s called.

Abe fields this question. "They would have to. After all, everyone only had one secret handed to them. We could very easily use the process of elimination to find-"

Saito lifts her chin, almost challenging all of us. "I had her secret."

Fun fact: it’s because Saito confessed to that here that there wasn’t a process of elimination like in Chapter 6, meaning that they could’ve found the identity of the mastermind here.

"I'm not done." Her gaze skirts back over to Aoyama, just on the other side of Miyuki's portrait beside her. "You're a stubborn pain in the ass who feels like he needs to get in the way of the progress we're trying to make. Not one of us here likes being around you more than we have to, not even Yasu. Hell, people on the internet probably don't even like you, that's why you have so many bots following you! I don't know why you think you can slack off and keep us from reaching a conclusion faster, but you can either help us survive the trial or shut. The fuck. Up."

I honestly have no words for this part. I knew something like that was coming, especially with Yoshida in such a volatile mood this chapter, but I didn’t know when or who it was coming from until I wrote it.

I think so? "Only if it's done correctly," Abe answers. "For example, back in the Salem Witch Trials in America, most of the victims of the hangings suffered from asphyxiation from the noose rather than having their neck broken. That was due to the short drop from the support to the ground." He shakes his head slightly. "I'm unsure of what a long drop would look like, so we can't entirely tell if she was hung correctly or if her neck was broken in a different manner."

I like learning about the Salem Witch Trials, so sue me. I’d just gotten a whole historical magazine about it.

"It seems simple enough to me," Saito cuts in smoothly. "He's saying that her knee dislocation is tied to how she died in that she was suspended before being dropped to the ground, correct?"

He tilts a hand back and forth. "More or less. If she were held somehow by her leg, her knee may have dislocated before her neck was broken is essentially what I thought."

I think I mentioned this somewhere before, but this method of death was inspired by a book I read back in like 5th grade or something on the old website Tumblebooks. I can’t for the life of me remember the name of the book, but the ghost in it had died after slipping off of a roof, and her foot caught in a rope but she still fell and broke her neck. I could handle this kind of thing a lot more poorly as a kid, so it stuck in my head all these years. I don’t even know if I remember anything else from the book other than the ghost telling the main character this. That said, if anyone knows the name of the book, let me know!

"I was the first to find her," Abe says. "The body discovery announcement played after Yasu and Sasaki came in. Given that the rule is that it plays after three people find the body for the first time, it's safe to say the killer is not Sasaki, Yasu, or myself."

See? Like I said before, I got rid of the conditional part of this rule, it’s just too complicated imo.

"I'm a bit lost, too," Yasu admits, playing with his bracelet again.

Wait actually I talked about Yasu’s bracelet for the first time a couple chapters ago and never mentioned, it’s meant to be like a medical alert bracelet.

Saito, still shuddering, lifts her head. "None of you know what it's like," she nearly growls. Her eyes are wild and wet, flitting from person to person. "None of you know what it's like to live with a killer. To grow up admiring them, being compared to them. To have someone you care about ripped away from you. To go from being strong to being pitied because of something you didn't do and had no control over. To have the rug yanked out from under you." She looks away from all of us, halfway over her shoulder at the wall. "Ishikawa."

Okay but why do I think I somewhat based this on Betty from Riverdale? I watched like half a season and only because Cheryl is hot. I don’t understandddddd

"Hate to break it to ya, but you're more like him than you think," Monokuma snickers. "So I hope y'all cast your votes correctly! I don't know how much more obvious this one can be made."

Like I said before, I didn’t try to make this one difficult. In fact, I wanted it to be relatively straightforward if only for the exposition Saito brings to the table just before her execution. That really kicks off the last few chapters of the story.

Numbly, I press the button for Saito. She doesn't move from the ground, even when the votes ring in as correct. Yoshida doesn't spare Saito a single glance. I note, however, that Saito did not vote at all.

THIS PART THOUGH. Remember several months ago I was looking for when this happened in canon? The blackened not voting but being executed anyway so they were going to die regardless? I SPENT AN HOUR LOOKING TO SEE WHO THAT WAS. AND IT WAS HER. I still get so mad thinking about that.

Slowly, all of our gazes fall onto Saito. Her sobs quiet, a small, strange smile gracing her lips. "I don't know what it said," she says in a disturbingly juvenile voice, "but there was definitely more paper in her hand when I left the crime scene!"

Wait. She has to be lying about that. Where would the rest of it have gone? "I think… It's okay to let it go," Yoshida says, a depressed sort of calm. She still doesn't look in Saito's general vicinity. "We're done here."

"Not quite yet!" Monokuma cackles. "Iiiiiit's PUNISHMENT TIIIIIME!"

Saito begins to laugh, quiet at first, though her volume soon increases until it's raucous. "By the way, I lied. I read the secret! And he is not who he says he is!"

The moment before her execution starts, she points, steadily and clearly, at Abe.

I’m very, very proud of this. Perfect timing to be literally right before the execution, casting suspicion on someone else unrelated to the murder. Where could the rest of it have gone? Easy, the one who was there first took it.

~Hangman's Gambit~

Neat little callback to the trial minigame!

For once, when the transmission ends, Monokuma doesn't seem angry. Rather, he keeps his eyes on Abe, his expression blank. "I knew he reminded me of someone," I think I hear him mutter with obvious entertainment, like he's in on an inside joke.

~FORESHADOWING~

"I don't think I can do this alone anymore."

"Hard for me to admit, but…"

"..."

"I don't know if I can get through the rest of this unscathed."

It’s at this point that I think it should be more clear which of the students this section belongs to!

[blu-joons]

When You Suffer With Migraines ~ Ateez Reaction

Seonghwa:

Your smile was soft as Seonghwa’s hands began to massage against your temples. “Is this helping?” He asked, struggling to know what to do to be able to be of any use for you as you suffered.

Your head nodded slightly, “maybe a little less pressure, but it’s definitely easing things for me.”

“I can do that,” Seonghwa gently chuckled as he moved his fingertips more carefully over the front of your head, “are you absolutely sure that there is nothing else that I can do for you Y/N?”

“Just being here,” you told him, comforted by his presence.

Seonghwa nodded as your eyes slowly began to shut, “why don’t you try and get some sleep?” Seonghwa suggested, knowing how much rest helped you when you suffered.

You hummed as you allowed your eyes to begin to relax, “can you keep massaging the top of my head until I fall asleep?” You asked him, hearing Seonghwa hum too in reply to you.

“I’ll stay here for as long as you need me.”

Hongjoong:

As yet another tissue was pulled from the box, Hongjoong couldn’t help but worry as you dabbed the sweat away. “Do you need me to get you a flannel?” He asked you, watching as you sighed.

Your head shook in reply to him, “I just need this stupid migraine to hurry up and leave me alone.”

“Don’t stress, you’ll make it worse,” Hongjoong reminded you, offering the sleeve of his shirt to you and running it gently over your forehead as more beads of sweat seemed to form quickly.

“It hurts so bad,” you frowned as Hongjoong moved his hand away.

He could tell by the look in your eyes that you were suffering badly. “I know, but we’ll keep doing what we always do and hopefully the pain will go away shortly,” he whispered.

Your head nodded, despite how irritated you were, “I just wish these migraines would go, they seem to be more and more frequent these days and I don’t really know why.”

“We’ll see it through, just like we always do.”

Yunho:

A sharp intake of breath came from you as the curtains to the bedroom opened, hissing loudly. “Sorry,” Yunho muttered, quickly realising what was wrong with you as he looked at you.

You closed your eyes tightly, “the last thing I need is light right now, my head is killing me, Yun.”

“It’s alright, I’ve closed them,” he told you as he sat back down on the bed beside you, watching your eyes slowly open. “I’ve made sure that they’re tightly shut so no light can get in.”

“Thank you,” you huffed as your eyes still cringed slightly.

Yunho’s hand came down and rested against you, “is your migraine that bad?” He asked, fearing the worst as your head nodded, feeling as if you were being rocked all over the place.

You sighed softly as he offered you a weak smile. “I felt a little dizzy last night, but I thought that I’d be able to sleep it off, it seems my head had other ideas about that though.”

“I’ll take care of you and get it gone soon.”

Yeosang:

A look of confusion appeared on Yeosang’s face as he walked home, heading around until he found you in the bedroom. “What are you doing in the dark at this time of night?” Yeosang asked.

Your hand lifted into the air quickly, “whatever you do, please don’t turn the light on Yeosang.”

“Have you got a migraine?” He quizzed, knowing straight away exactly what it meant when you buried yourself away. “You should have said, I could have got stuff on the way home from work.”

“I didn’t want to be a bother,” you whispered as the bed dipped.

A sigh came from Yeosang as he rested his head against you, “you’re never a bother Y/N, I want to be able to help you when you’re going through things like this.”

You smiled weakly as Yeosang laid himself down beside you, “still, I thought if you’ve had a busy day, you might just want to get home and relax rather than go to the shop.”

“Honestly, I don’t mind doing things for you.”

San:

The feeling of your body crashing back down beside him made San jump as he watched your hand raise to press against the top of your head. “Are you alright?” He asked straight away to you.

A heavy sigh came from you, “standing up just worsened my migraine, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why didn’t you say?” San fretted, encouraging you to lean back comfortably on the sofa, “if you needed anything I could have gone and got it. What was it that you were going to get anyway?”

“Just some tablets,” you murmured as San stood up instead.

Before leaving the room, he moved a couple of cushions to sit around your head and your neck, “you relax here, and I’ll go and get you something to try and take the pain away.”

Your head nodded slightly, unable to move it too much because of the pain. “Thank you,” you whispered to San as he started to walk away from you to the cupboard.

“You don’t need to thank me, it’s alright.”

Mingi:

Your hand hit against Mingi’s chest as soon as he let go of a laugh, groaning loudly. “Sorry, sorry,” he spoke as he remembered you were suffering with a migraine, trying to rest yourself beside him.

Your head shook as you buried into your pillow, “if you’re going to be loud, I can go elsewhere.”

“No, I’ll be quiet, I promise,” Mingi smiled, turning the volume down on his phone too as he scrolled through a few videos, “I just wasn’t thinking for a moment there, that’s all, sorry.”

“My head is killing me,” you huffed, closing your eyes tight.

Mingi rested his hand against your waist carefully, “are you sure that there’s nothing else that I can do for you? I feel bad watching you lay here still in some discomfort Y/N.”

Your head shook once again, “I think I’m just going to have to see it through, they don’t usually last after a sleep, I’ve just got to try and get myself to fall asleep first.”

“Tell me what I can do to help you out.”

Wooyoung:

He stopped in his tracks as Wooyoung found you in the bathroom sat right beside the toilet. “Migraine?” He quizzed, knowing what it meant as soon as he came home and found you there.

Your head nodded as you sat yourself up, “I felt fine, and then all of a sudden I just ran for it.”

“Is it particularly bad?” Wooyoung frowned, slowly walking into the bathroom, not thrilled by the sight of sick beside you. “Do you want me to get you anything for when you’re finished in here?”

“I might just head to bed,” you told Wooyoung, slowly moving.

Wooyoung helped you as you tried to sit yourself up, supporting your tired body. “I think getting to bed would be a good idea for you, I’ll go and sort the room out if you want.”

You hummed in reply to him, “do you mind making sure the room’s dark for when I come in, the last thing I need is to sit in another bright room,” you asked Wooyoung kindly.

“Of course, I’ll have the curtains drawn.”

Jongho:

A hand against your waist finally stopped you rolling around the bed, coming face to face with a wide awake Jongho. “What’s wrong?” He asked, having heard you roll around for some time.

Your hand immediately pressed to the top of your head, “I’ve got another migraine, it’s not going.”

“You should have woken me,” Jongho frowned, moving his arm so that it wrapped around your shoulders, “I could have got you some help, do you want me to get a compress from the bathroom?”

“I just want to sleep,” you sighed, getting more and more restless.

Jongho nodded understandingly as he tucked you into his side, “why don’t you try and sleep against my chest? If that doesn’t work, then I’ll go and get you a compress instead?”

You moved slowly into Jongho, not wanting to startle the pain in your temples anymore. “I’m sorry if I woke you up,” you told him as you buried yourself deep into his chest.

“Don’t be sorry, as long as you’re alright.”

---

Masterlist

[spilledkauffie]

Meet Cute

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x DogMom!Reader Word Count: 1.8k T/W: fluffyyyy A/N: I know it’s a trope, but I love it!

Can you imagine Bucky with a puppy?!?!

Managing six dogs at once wasn’t exactly easy, but you did it rather gracefully, at least most of the time. Today however, you fumbled with your keys at your apartment door when two dogs suddenly, and swiftly wrapped around you, pulling opposite directions. With a small shocked squeak at being squeezed, you accidentally dropped both your keys and a leash, one out of six wasn’t bad, but it was still a loose puppy, trotting around the apartment hall like he owned the place. 

“Peanut!” You yelled out of sheer concern as the baby dachshund gallivanted towards the stairs, as if it were his prison break at last, “Peanut, sweetie, come here!” You called again, eyebrows furrowing during your attempt to untwist the other leashed from around you, as he got closer and closer to that first step which was far too steep for him to comfortably and safely make wihtout tumbling down the rest. 

You watched in sheer panic as his short stout front legs took the leap of faith with ears flying freely in the air like he was Dumbo. You anticipated the little yelp that would absolutely break your heart— Thankfully there was a soft landing platform neither of you had prepared for. Underneath Peanut appeared two hands covered in black gloves. The small dog fit perfectly in the hands as he wagged his tail, beyond proud of the heart attack he nearly gave you. Sighing, you leaned into the door of your apartment for support. 

“Whoa there,” the saviour said, bringing the pup up with him as he stood, having had to dip to catch the pup on the stairs, after glancing at the shining silver bone shaped name tag he met the dog’s eye line, “Peanut, was it?”

As the stranger made his way up the last few steps, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. While you didn’t know him personally, you had seen him around the apartment complex before. Heart still pounding, you shook your head at the pup who was plenty happy in the hands of his rescuer. 

“Peanut Butter Brittle Biscuit,” you full named the dog, causing him to tuck his tail, still wagging it though. Setting your hand, which was still being tugged on by the other five other dogs, on your hip, “you know better than to just run into strangers, it's rude.”

“Well, Peanut,” he looked to the pup in all seriousness, “I’m Bucky. There, we aren’t strangers anymore,” he affirmed, shaking the dogs tiny little paw gently, “and so we’re not strangers,” he looked to you, “I’m Bucky, and you are?” You smiled at his flirty tone, “unless you’d like to go by 4C? Keep it professional?”

“Four- C?” You gave a puzzled look.

Bucky pointed above and behind your head, with the hand he was not literally cradling Peanut with. Quickly glancing you realized it was your apartment number. Now feeling a flush of embarrassment, you took a moment to face him again, squeezing your eyes closed. 

“Oh yeah,” you nervously laughed, before giving him your name as well, you liked the way he repeated it to himself, “and you’re 2E, right?”

“Do we know each other?” he asked, tilting his head with a smirk.

“Oh no, I just, sometimes I see Yori go down there, and- I’m not stalking you, I promise,” you frantically explained, waving your hand, wrapped in dog leashes. 

“No,” Bucky smiled, letting you know that was not what he was thinking, “I think I’d hear you if you were though,” he looked down and around at the literal pack of dogs sitting and standing around you. The pack ranged from a German Shepherd to a Golden Retriever to a Dachshund to a Pomeranian to a Corgi to, lastly, a dopey Great Dane.

“Most definitely,” you laughed, trying to calm your nerves, “we’re not the most graceful bunch, you had a display of that just a moment ago, which thank you so, so much.” You placed your hand over your chest, as an expression of relief. 

“No problem,” he said with a sincere nod and smile, petting back the dog’s ears, “looks like Peanut here is a real daredevil.”

“You have no idea,” you glanced at the puppy, “he’s a troublemaker and thinks he’s invincible.”

With that Peanut interjected giving the most babyish attempt at a deep roo, sassily from where Bucky held him still.

“Talker too, huh?” Bucky gave a shocked glance at the Dachshund who was still resting comfortably with his chest being cradled by Bucky's hand.

“Yeah, well we’re 40 minutes late to D I N N E R,” you spelled out the last word in a whisper, “Fridays are always long days,” you gestured around you to the bigger dogs with toys covered in drool, they just stared up at you, sighing you collected yourself, “they’re park days.” 

“Ohh, I see,” Bucky nodded, “I'd hate to keep you any longer then.” 

With a soft ‘okay’ and a smile, you held your hands out to take Peanut back. There was a brief moment in the exchange where your hands touched his and he gave a ‘sorry’ knowing it was probably cold against your skin. As Peanut hovered with both your hands on his chubby little sides. Your Dane tugged one way again, while the Retriever was determined to go the other, pulling you and Bucky closer together. Practically chest to chest, save Peanut being the barrier between the two of you.

“Oh my gosh,” you whispered, looking down immediately, even though there was hardly room between you two to do so, literally feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you closed your eyes, “this is not happening.”

“I’ve been in worse situations,” Bucky remarked cooly, keeping his gaze focused on you, finding it surprisingly cute at how flustered you were around him. It’d been a long time since he had felt someone had real genuine human emotions regarding him. 

Neither of you took your hands away from the other’s. Standing there you bit in your lip, calming your rising pulse as you were now close enough to smell his cologne. 

“I’m-” you started, finally looking up, “so sorry.” 

“It’s really okay,” Bucky chuckled, not wanting you to feel as worried as you were, but you just knit your brows together and gave another apologetic look, “honestly, I could- I could do this all day.” There was a pause, then you smiled, ducking your head to hide your face against Peanut who was really becoming a star matchmaker, “I think Peanut and I are going to be very good friends by the end of this.”

Lifting your head with a nod, you sighed, stroking the pup’s ear, for a moment before you guided the other dogs around to give you some more space. Bucky respectfully took a step back, somehow still holding Peanut after all that. You opened your apartment door and the dogs rushed in, you let each leash fall off your hand as they entered. You said their name with each one to keep track of them.

“And lastly,” you exhaled, reaching your arms out again for the troublemaker of whom Bucky surrendered, though he was getting fairly fond of him, “well, at least let me invite you in? Have a drink on me? Something?”

“That’d be great,” Bucky said, gesturing for you to lead the way. 

Once you were both in and Bucky shut the door behind him, you let Peanut loose and immediately he ran to his dinner bowl, waiting in anticipation. Offering Bucky to sit at the bar, you set two cold bottles on top of the counter, but before you joined him you got out six dog bowls, making him smile.

“How long have you had them?” Bucky asked, opening his bottle relaxedly with his hand.

“They vary, some for years, but the most recent,” you nodded to Peanut, “only a few months.”

“So uh, why so many?” Bucky inquired. 

You squeezed your shoulders up, looking around at all of them, “they needed a home,” you said, soft smile, “each of them came from a broken place, of hurt and pain. That’s all they knew before I took them in, and,” you shook your head smiling wider, looking over to Bucky, “if I could be a part of their healing, I knew I had to be. I can’t think of leaving something to suffer if there’s something that can be done to help.”

“That’s-” Bucky looked to the floor as you rounded the counter, to sit next to him on another bar stool, having just set all the bowls down, “that’s a really great mindset.” 

“What about you?” you took a sip, “any pets?”

He swallowed shaking his head, “no, I have a weird work schedule,” he squinted at his own reasoning, hoping it didn’t sound too dumb.

“Oh gotcha,” you nodded, before gesturing with the top of the bottle, “well Rodgers seems to like you.”

Your gesture drew Bucky to look down, sure enough set atop his thigh was your German Shepherd's head, looking up with big eyes and slowly wagging his tail. Bucky pet the dog’s ear, “Rodgers?”

“Yeah, you know after Captain America? He’s ex-military himself so I thought it was fitting,” you bent down to pet the dog yourself.

There was a quietness, Bucky looked away from the dogs and you for a moment. Biting the inside of his lip he felt something he hadn’t in a long time, though he tried to repress it. A part of him felt it was a sign, another part of him told himself to ignore it. Takin another swig, he made his choice

“Hey, if you ever. . . need help with them, I’m,” he hesitated, “I’m usually free Fridays, or- park days.”

“I’d love that,” you smiled leaning back up, “how bout I get your number so we can plan a da-,” you quickly changed your sentence, “a park day.”

While you got up to grab your phone, he flipped open his, seeing the very few contacts and the messages from only one person. Wincing he was a little nervous, this meant opening up. You returned, asking for his number, to which he willingly gave you. Finishing the drinks he said he really should head home, you completely understood, already surprised that he stuck around that long after the incident earlier. 

With casual goodbyes, you shut your door and he headed back downstairs. Taking his gloves off, he suddenly felt his phone vibrate. Sitting on his couch he took it out of his pocket. Seeing your name pop up with a “hi 4C here, texting you like I said I would” and a smiley face with a dog emoji made him smile to himself. 

He opened it-- it was time to start answering messages, it was time he found his healing.

[shuttingupwards]

Liam and Bryce. [SPOILERS EP 10-11]

I loved the new ONE episodes! Some of my favorite so far, especially the music and the side characters. It introduces dissociation and pain in so many new ways in very untapped form of media. Object shows are absolute perfect outlets for stories that need to be used more, and ONE is a wonderful example. Liam and Bryce, in the new episodes are defiantly troubling to a lot because of the brashness that is their characters in such vulnerable situations.

Starting with Bryce, we can assume that at one point he had a lot of hope. He was a graduate at some form of college and was ready to follow his passions but at another point was completely lost in alcoholism and a dead end job. And even when we see him phase back to normal like it was a dream, he doesn’t seem to allow him to process what happened to him and the trauma he endured but rather sweeps it off as some sort of nightmare. Even when it’s been so long he assures Liam that he’s doing the best he has, but it’s hard to believe that based on how he’s taking out his frustrations on a clueless Liam. However when he first sees Liam, is when is mind breaks into that anger. He upset that Liam is there and even exists because it reassures the idea that everything he went through was real and he can’t hide from it. This is what appears to be his large issue.

Whatever his fall from grace was has left him isolated in his own issues so much that he can’t even admit he was a hostage, so much so he actively spends his days doing activities to ignore them and not have to face the awful truth of what happened. This is possibly what he meant by doing better. Now that he’s off the show, he can go back to normal. How he was used to his everyday life being even if it’s as shitty as before, it’s better then what he was going through on the show. Even if he made bonds or saw out objects, he was still okay with turning that away if it meant the gain of his own sanity.

This characterization is honestly wonderful. The way it easily folds to say someone who experiences trauma, it’s crafted to turn away and shun that broken part of self. It’s hard to admit and face the horrible things that happened to yourself, which is clearly a battle he’s fighting by shutting the door. But when he hears that Amelia is still trapped in the plane, is when he gives in. It’s his guilt that he built up creeping back to him that while, he won’t confront, he’ll allow to slip through and detest him. It’s no longer a battle but a large ocean being held back by a glass door that’s about to break. Each crack is symbolic for every time he slips up, allows his suspicion to take over. That is until the dam cracks and we see Texty back.

I’d also like to bring light to the things he says to Backpack during the argument. How most of what he is saying is deflection of the actual subject that Liam is trying to point out or honesty in that he doesn’t want apart of it. The deflection is a trauma respond to defend himself from any actual truth of the matter. How he points out the door thing, or that Liam didn’t seem to bring up Amelia. Which were all Liam’s own trauma response, but we’ll talk about that in a minute. Bryce seems terrified of confronting what truly happened to him several months ago, so he takes frustration and builds a wall to never think about it and try to pretend it’s normal when it’s not.

Backpack on the other hand, seems quite aware. For almost all of the show he’s seen suffering silently, praying that he’ll escape with an optimistic yet painful outlook. He’s clearly suffering but he doesn’t allow any of that get in the way. Even when he’s homeless, is considered dead, and has to travel a week just to get to his last hope. Some may criticize Liam for waiting outside Bryce’s house for so long or trying to get him to open up. However I think this is clearly just his reaction to desperation. He’s lost so much mentally that his last chance to even prove to anyone he’s alive or okay is through this one thing. It’s incredibly important to him that he even begins crying or just screaming at a door with nothing to offer. Its painful for him to have never had any proof of the trauma he went through when everyone who also knew was just gone from him. He wanted to save them, but lacked being able to by himself.

Liam seemed desensitized at first due to his dissociation but now in a seemingly real world, everything hits him like a brick. Nothing makes sense, and all he’s left with his sticky notes he can barely understand besides a single address. During his argument he wants so badly to relate and share that experience with Bryce, he asks if they were even friends or if it even mattered at all to him what would happen. It was incredibly important to Liam to have closure and save the rest while not even confronting his own trauma at all.

During the cut scene we sort of see him fall back into his habit of silence followed by prolonged dissociation where he thinks heavily on the plane or possibly his trauma but he doesn’t address it but rather just wants to have reassurance and help. Even if it’s for others he seems to cling onto it as if it’s personal to him. As if he lets go all will fall apart and he’ll be back at square one. Which truly, he would. He doesn’t have anything. A job, money, a place to be, and most likely doesn’t have anyone he can go to. His isolation seems to be a constant theme and struggle of his character that it’s very apparent in his own physical life.

Both Liam and Bryce share themes of trauma but their own bickering is because the polar opposites of what they want. One wants closer to the issue while the other wants farther and it seems to be a push and pull situation where they may get closer but farther at the same time. Liam wants to understand and reassure his existence is real, and that he’s going to save his friends but Bryce wants nothing to do with it.

Both are very well written not only in that it’s a very realistic way they’d both react to trauma, it pushes the narrative closer and helps make sense why the two are chosen to be protagonists. ONE is written as a piece of art to be looked at and taken something away from it. No matter what you take away from it is your own slice of story, as all art is made for interpretation. Which is a key element in the art of ONE. Just because I write hefty reviews and analysis’s means I’m correct in every way or it doesn’t conflict with others opinion. In fact it’s the exact reason hundreds of people enjoy ONE for what they can enjoy about it. Personally my favorite aspect of ONE is the music, not the characters! But I still like to look at it as the long piece of work that it is.

I hope you enjoy ONE just as much as I do and can take your own slice of interpretation from it, because it’s full of ways to be dissected!