#Tw: mention of self-harm

[samgirl98]

Wail of the Silent 2/?

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TW: this chapter mentions suicide and thoughts of self-harm. Proceed with caution. Do not read if this triggers you

Danny Fenton, aka Phantom, flew over the smog-ridden city. It was cloudy, the sky threatening to release rain. He couldn’t see the stars.

(Not that it was possible to see them in the crime-ridden city.)

He had finally reached Gotham City.

“Of all the places Spectra could’ve run off to, it just had to be Gotham.”

Of course, considering all the city's misery, it made sense that Penelope Spectra would find her way there.

“Now I have to dodge the stupid Bats while looking for her.”

Still, as much as he grumbled, he was responsible for protecting people from ghosts. Ever since he told his parents the truth two years ago, they more or less accepted him (even while they kicked him out of the house.), and he had had more time to capture ghosts.

They gave him gadgets and access to the portal (as long as they supervised.) and paid for his apartment while giving him some money. And, bonus, they no longer shot at him and didn’t want to dissect him.

(Did they love him, though? They had kicked him out of his only home when he was eighteen…)

Thankfully, Danny had been able to make his patented inventions that focused on protection from ghosts instead of offensive weapons, so he was getting some income from that. After all, the people of Amity Park would rather have something that protected them than fight ghosts.

He had been able to graduate high school, but he couldn’t go to college. Jazz was encouraging him to take some courses in community college. She argued that since his parents were helping with capturing ghosts (and releasing them instead of experimenting on them.), he should at least think about doing more than ghost hunting.

He couldn’t. Danny had a responsibility to Amity Park. Besides, he had powers; he couldn’t not use them to protect his town. It was his fault the ghosts were coming through in the first place.

 If I hadn’t opened the portal…if I hadn’t been a stupid teenager…

The portal was mainly closed now, but natural portals spawned almost weekly in Amity Park, allowing any ghost to get through. This time, Spectra had come through again. She had caused havoc in Amity Park. Three had died, two by their own hands by the time he had figured out that Spectra had had a hand in it. When she figured out Danny was after her, Spectra fled Amity Park.

So, he followed her.

At the moment, he had left Amity Park in the hands of the Red Huntress and his little more capable parents. Spectra was not a ghost that should be allowed in the mortal plane. He’s seen what happens when she feeds on someone too long.

(He could still see the shadow of a hanging body…)

Danny made it invisibly to the top of the tallest building he could find. Wayne Tower was in the middle of an island Danny had found out was called Old Gotham. (Thank you, Google Maps.) He could see the city sprawl in front of him. Danny decided to remain invisible in case any Bats were around. He knew he wasn’t a meta (he was dead, it was a medical condition), but he was sure Batman wouldn’t see it that way.

Looking at the city before him, Danny had no idea where to start. There were so many angry shades and ghosts hanging around that he couldn’t pinpoint Spectra’s unique ectosignature with the Ecto-finder he had with him. And Danny’s ghost sense was useless as it kept going off every other street.

Danny sighed. He decided to go in a random direction when he heard it—no, he felt it.

A ghost was wailing in pain. It was broadcasting its agony and torment to every ghost, shade, and Danny. The wail turned into a roar before suddenly cutting off. The silence that followed left Danny feeling disoriented.

Danny went in the direction that the ghost had projected its pain. He had to help. No one should have to deal with that suffering alone. Besides, if he could feel it, Danny knew Spectra would pinpoint the misery still coating the air.

Danny flew into the night, determined to help.

____

Jason got up, knowing he couldn’t sleep any longer that night.

His shoulders curved inward from the heavy feeling he felt on his back.

(Spectra smiled as her shadowy hands held onto Jason’s shoulders.)

He started making a cup of tea when his feelings reached a crescendo. The cup Jason was holding on to hit the floor and broke. Jason stared at the shattered pieces and felt the sudden urge to use one to stop the crawling under his skin.

(Spectra amplified the need to hurt himself. She smiled as the boy’s emotions fed her powers.)

It was only Jason’s stubbornness that stopped him from doing it. He ignored the broken pieces of glass and sat on the couch. Silent tears left tracks on his cheeks. He wanted his dad, his family—anyone to stop what he was feeling.

He felt he was going insane!

(Spectra smiled and inwardly hoped the boy would last longer than her other victims. His misery made her youthful quicker than any other victim, and more powerful.)

Just as Jason felt his mind was going to break, the feelings went away suddenly, leaving Jason panting hard.

(Spectra felt when Phantom got close and left.)

Jason pulled his hair, wanting, needing the physical pain to ground him to the present.

What was happening to him?

(Spectra smiled as she stared at her reflection at a random window. Her skin was glowing, and her face was free of wrinkles. Spectra’s hair was shining and luxurious. Yes, she hoped the boy would last a while.  

Her smile grew as the ghost boy flew overhead, completely missing her.)

____

Though the city of Gotham seemed like a cruel, cold mistress, she cared for her people in her way.

Every vile villain, hero, anti-hero, and citizen was welcomed into her dark and shadowy bosom. The shades and ghosts who had lived and died in her dark alleys and streets knew their mistress would take care of them.

So, when a new ghost showed up and started targeting one of her knights (not just any knight but the one who had been born in her old buildings, the one who had been raised and shaped in her streets. The one she could not save as he had died so far from her soil.), she felt a visceral anger deep in her being.

How dare this spirit come and target her favored knight? She would not let the ghost get away from it. Lady Gotham let her consciousness spread throughout the city, trying, needing to find a way to help…There! A young half-ghost, looking, searching, wanting to help.

She guided the young ghost to her knight—the one who had suffered at the hands of the Joker and his father. (Even now, she doesn’t protect Bruce Wayne as much as she used to, only if it was necessary. The shadows of the city no longer covered him as tightly as they used to.)

She would do whatever she could to help Jason Todd.

The last part was a surprise to me. I hadn't intended to make Gotham a sentient city, but she decided to come screaming out in full force. Yes, Lady Gotham is holding a grudge against Bruce for hurting Jason.

[b0y-artist]

Is it gay to memorize your best friend's morning cup of joe? Asking for a friend.

"Sev? Is everything okay?" A smooth voice he knew all too well snapped him out of his internal tirade. Using that *damn* nickname. Seven felt his face grow hotter.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine. What did I miss?" Seven stuttered, trying to make it seem like he *wasn't* just spacing out. Even though it was probably pretty noticeable at this point. Mono knew him better than anybody else, and could read him like a book. Which was ironic, since Mono didn't even like to read.

"The room number is 129, now c'mon! I wanna see our place!" Mono yelled excitedly, thankfully already forgetting about Seven's temporary dissociation as he ran up the carpeted staircase, rocking on his heels impatiently as he waited for Seven by the door.

Seven chuckled as he scaled the seemingly endless stairway, trying to reach his restlessly hyper friend as quickly as possible. "Sevennnnn, c'mon! You're so slow!" As if on cue, he could already hear Mono's childish whining. Shaking his head fondly at his friend's antics, Seven finally reached the top of the stairs.

"Not my fault these *pant* stairs are so long." he muttered, trying to catch his breath as Mono continued to pout. "That's no excuse. Perhaps you should exercise more, Fellon." Mono playfully teased, a shit-eating smirk on his face.

Seven rolled his eyes as he moved past Mono to unlock the door to their apartment. "Heaven forbid I leave his highness waiting. After you, princess." Seven teased back, barely holding back his laughter as he opened the door for a very irate Mono.

As soon as Mono walked through the door, he was speechless. The apartment was so neat, and clean. The walls were painted a nice beige, that matched the color of the love seat they ordered perfectly. The floors were hardwood and so shiny Mono could see his reflection. There was a 49-inch flat screen TV hooked up to the wall above a dresser where several pots of grafted cactuses and succelents lay. Next to the love seat was a rectangular glass table, and on top, a small wicker basket that held remotes.

The kitchen wasn't anything too special. It was relatively small, and had all your everyday appliances. But what did catch Mono's eye was a black coffee maker. Specifically, the one he got for Seven's 16th birthday.

Mono wasn't a *huge* fan of coffee, he usually only drank it whenever he had to work late, just so he could stay up and get everything done. *But,* Seven absolutely adored coffee, and Mono made sure to brew him a cup every morning. Is it gay that he's memorized the exact amount of sugar Seven likes in his coffee? Not that he paid attention to it on purpose. Always seeing what brand and flavor Seven preferred so he could make sure to secretly pick it up whenever they went grocery shopping, nope, never. That would be *undeniably* gay.

Regardless, Mono's heart fluttered at the thought of Seven keeping it after all this time.

Mono heard footsteps behind him as Seven walked into the kitchen. Seven titled his head when he caught Mono looking at the coffee maker. He's not sure why, but for some odd reason, he wanted to come up behind Mono and hug him.

"Y-you kept it?" Mono stuttered, his heart still beating fast. He's not sure why, this isn't even that big of a deal! It's just a coffee maker.

"Y-yeah, I did." Seven stuttered, the urge only growing stronger as he watched how Mono fiddled with his fingers, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Was Mono always that attractive, or was it just the lighting?

Seven gulped, looking away from Mono to try and calm down. Eventually, his heart stopped racing and his face went back to it's normal color. Seven turned around as soon as he was sure he could face Mono without running away. Or exploding, which ever happened first.

"But, w-what about the new one? You always told me how you wanted it. I was sure you would've replaced it." Mono mumbled, looking down at his shoes since he couldn't stand to look at Seven anymore. Not that he was repulsed by him or something, no, it was just the complete opposite.

Seven was surprised that Mono thought he would've gotten rid of it, but putting that thought aside, he flicked his hand carelessly. "I never liked all that new stuff anyway. It means a lot to me, I-I mean, since you were the one who gave it to me." Seven replied, secretly wishing to kick his own ass for how ridiculously stupid that sounded.

–and then Mono smiled. Oh god, he smiled.

Seven's doomed.

"Aw. Well, I'm glad you kept it. I was secretly hoping you would, I-I just didn't want to seem pushy." He stammered, and Seven frowned. Mono's always had this awful habit of thinking everything was his fault, or something he said was wrong somehow. Usually it wasn't, and Seven tried to reassure him of this. But, the habit *still* stuck around, even after all these years. That doesn't mean Seven would stop trying, though.

"Mono, that's not "being pushy." It just meant a lot to you, and you wanted me to keep it. Which is completely understandable." Seven said, trying his best to sound convincing. Whenever Mono got like this, it was extremely hard to get him to believe otherwise, but Seven was anything if not persistent. Mono probably rubbed off on him in that regard, and Seven wouldn't be surprised, since they spend so much time with each other. Nonetheless, it was a good trait to have. Especially when Seven had to deal with an equally set-in-his-ways boy.

"Yeah. You're probably right. Sorry, Sev. You know how I get," Mono apologized, picking at his skin. Another habit Mono had unfortunately picked up over the years. Seven walked over to Mono so he could gently take him by the wrists. "Hey, don't do that." Seven softly spoke up as Mono stopped his picking to look up at Seven.

Mono frowned, Seven looked worried, *really* worried, and it made Mono feel responsible. "Sorry." Mono apologized, but his voice was hollow. He knew Seven didn't like whenever he picked at his skin. Sometimes Mono even went so far as to draw blood, which Seven had to clean and patch up to make sure it didn't get infected. Seven always took care of him, the least he could do is make less work for him. Mono's a mess that Seven doesn't need to worry about.

As if Seven could read his thoughts he took Mono's hands into his own, and gave them a comforting squeeze, thumbing over his knuckles. "It's alright. Just try not to do it again, okay? I know it's hard, but..." Seven trailed off, his grip on Mono's hand tightening, but not painfully so, it was more of a silent affirmation. A promise to never leave. "I-I worry about you." Seven finished, his grip slowly loosening on Mono's hands, but the promise was still there.

–And as Mono finally sobered up out of his bout of self-pity, he could sense Seven's touch, it felt like a thousand tiny fireworks dancing up his spine, his skin tingling from the slightest brush of the hand. It felt...nice, if not a little overwhelming.

"Woah..." Mono whispered to himself. Luckily, Seven didn't seem to notice as there was a knock on the door. When Seven finally let go of Mono to answer the door, Mono briefly mourned the loss.

Who could that even be at this hour?

[starlightseraph]

house md will always be remebered as the most insane thing ever broadcast because of how unabashedly feral everyone involved was.

a short collection of things that happen on the show, just off the top of my head, not even scratching the surface:

- house shoots a random dead body in the morgue and then sticks him in an mri machine, which pulls the bullet out of the dead guy’s head and destroys the machine, costing the hospital millions

- foreman gets bitten by a person with rabies

- chase kills an african dictator

- cameron steals drugs from a patient after possibly getting hiv from said patient

- house induces a migraine and then takes a drug made by his arch nemesis (who he’s been stalking for 25 years) to get the drug taken off the market. he then takes lsd (in the hospital, in the middle of a case) to cure the migraine.

- chase goes into anaphylaxis after doing body shots

- house stops an elevator so he can perform a cavity (vaginal) search on a teenage heart transplant patient who’s in cardiorespiratory arrest

- they give a neurosurgeon mushrooms to cure his food poisoning, then they stick him in an operating room. the neurosurgeon strips in front of a health board assessor.

- kutner dies for gay marriage

- house sets an autopsy room on fire while trying to juggle flaming bottles

- house gets recruited by the cia

- taub gets held at gun point after diagnosing a stripper with skin cancer

- in almost every single episode, the team breaks into multiple houses

- house fakes terminal brain cancer so he can get drugs implanted directly into the pleasure centre of his brain

- house cons us immigration to get his fake wife a green card. he also uses his fake wife’s ukrainian food truck to spy on people

- house tries to get wilson, his closet case boybestfriend, into bed every few episodes. every other sentence out of house’s mouth is about wanting to rail wilson.

- taub has a kid with his ex-wife, after they divorce, at the same time he has a kid with his 25 yo side piece. the kids’ names are sophie and sophia.

- house and wilson have a bet on who can hide a chicken in the hospital the longest without anyone finding out

- house tries to kill himself like 6 times and always fails (insulin shock, overdoses, electrocution, jumping off a building, cutting, etc)

- house fakes his death to get out of a prison sentence after violating his parole so he can live out his bi love story with his gay best friend who has 5 months to live

[toughttt]

"Ugh need" I say to an image of someone's cuts with a hospital room in the background

[wolfertinger666]

hey cool update because I feel it's important to say: been clean from SH for almost a year. it's been so long I actually feel nice. happy to be healing.

[confusedlosergirl]

Trying to not be jealous of people who actually cut deep challenge

[xfangheartx]

Especially when you consider the fact that Blitzø may hate himself so bad that he might even contemplate offing himself after seeing all the decorations because he thinks that people are better off without him.

I know I said this already, but still...

"Blitz had been a terrible boyfriend to Verosika and she has a right to be angry at him" and "Verosika's obsession with Blitz is clearly unhealthy and she goes too far sometimes" can co-exist 😭

[the-stars-are-crying-again]

how to k1ll yourself without disappointing anyone no borax no glue

[moonstruckme]

could i req any marauder finding r’s sh scars and being loving about them? going through hell rn. it’s okay if u cant, love u mae

Wishing you all the best sweetheart, hope you're doing what you can to support yourself and let others around you support you too <33

cw: past self harm

modern au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“Did his wife cheat on him?”

“Why would you think that?” 

“I mean, if not, why does the mother-in-law hate her so much?” 

Remus shrugs, a secret smile playing on the edge of his mouth. His knuckles run over the skin of your shoulder idly as he keeps his eyes on the laptop screen. “Suppose you’ll have to wait and see.” 

You huff a laugh. “What’s the point of watching with someone who’s already seen it if you won’t tell me anything?” 

“It’s only ever really fun for the person who’s already seen it. I get to watch you go through the agonies I did.” 

“The agonies.” You roll your eyes, leaning deeper into his side. You could be a bit more convincing about holding this against him, but Remus’ bed is almost as comfortable as Remus himself, and you’ve found it impossible to pretend at being any less smitten with him than you really are. He sees right through you every time. “If you’d mentioned the agonies in your pitch, I might not have agreed to this.” 

“You’ll like it,” he promises, leaning back on you in turn, your shoulder pushing into his arm. 

The two of you are having the laziest of afternoons. What had started as a coffee date had turned into a trip to the bookstore across the street and then a walk in a park, and when it had gotten too warm out for the both of you Remus had invited you over for lunch and somehow you’ve ended up here, sitting on his bed in a borrowed pair of sweatpants while you watch a film on his laptop and he touches you like you’re a fascination he’d like to spend years studying. 

It’s an indolent, distracted sort of touching. Almost like he’s mapping you out in his subconscious, so that someday he’ll know you by instinct and memory but he’s in no hurry to get there. Like he’s got time. It’s also hypnotic. As captivating as Remus’ film selection is, you’re having a difficult time keeping up with the plot when your eyelids are so, so heavy. 

His knuckles stroke over your neck, the bare skin of your collarbone, down the slope of your shoulder. You don’t realize your shirt has slipped off the top of your arm until he does.

You freeze, Remus doesn’t. His fingers continue to graze lightly over the neat rows of scars, slowing as though losing momentum. You close your eyes. 

Emotion rises like a gag reflex in your throat. Apprehension and shame and a guilt you don’t quite understand. Like you’re wrong for ever having had the audacity to hurt, like this is something you’re doing to him, somehow, even though it’s long over and was only ever a misguided attempt at making yourself feel better. It’s nonsensical, and you feel it anyway. 

Remus is quiet for a long while. 

His touch moves back up your shoulder, to unmarred skin and safer territory. He asks, “You okay?” 

You swallow. “You mean, like, presently?”

“Yeah.” There’s the faintest hint of teasing in Remus’ voice. He sweeps his thumb over the back of your neck, an attempt at soothing you. “Or in general, whatever suits you.” 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped just now. I didn’t know.”

“No…no, you’re alright. I wasn’t…” You rub your lips together, taking in what you hope is a subtle breath through your nose. “You’re fine.” 

“Does it bother you to think about them?” he asks. You can feel him looking at you, now, but you keep your eyes on the screen. It’s the only way for you to have this conversation. 

“Not really. It was just something I did for a while, you know?” 

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah, that makes sense.” 

You sit there for another quiet minute, you watching the movie and Remus watching you. The coil of apprehension in you starts to loosen. Your breaths come easier. 

“Sorry,” you say, not bothering to force lightness into your tone, “I didn’t mean to spring that on you. It’s not a secret, but it’s not something that tends to come up, like, casually.” 

“No, hey, you’re fine.” Remus sounds serious enough that you turn to look at him, and you find him with a hard notch between his brows, a surprised sort of frown on his lips. “If anyone sprung anything, it was me. You haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t imagine it’s an easy subject to broach.” 

“It’s not a big deal to me anymore.” You’re beginning to sound almost as if you’re pleading with him. 

“Alright.” 

“And it was a long time ago now.” 

“It’s okay, love.” 

“I just know people sometimes get freaked out, and I don’t want you to worry—” 

“Hey.” There’s a tenderness to Remus’ voice as he cuts you off. His honey-toned eyes are soft. “It’s okay. Can I hug you?” 

You nod mutely. The hand currently resting by your neck slips down to hug your ribs, and his other arm comes around your front, palming your bare upper arm. He rubs up and down comfortingly, seemingly mindless of the faint lines under his touch. 

Remus’ lips touch to your hair. When he pulls you tighter against him, it feels almost like you’re rocking. “You’re alright,” he murmurs, to you, to himself. “You’re alright.” 

“Sorry,” you whisper, self-conscious now of your nervous blithering and slightly stunned by the way he’s touching you. 

“For what, sweetheart? Don’t be sorry. If you want to talk about it—about anything—I will always want to hear it, but you don’t owe me any explanation, alright?” 

“Yeah.” Your lungs deflate a little, a relief you hadn’t known you needed. “Thanks.” 

“Don’t thank me, either.” Remus is teasing again, the press of his lips to your hair at once firm and fond. He lets you go but keeps his arm around your waist, dropping his head to rest on yours again. “You’re just fine, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You snuggle into his side, somehow safer than before. “I’m good. I’ve been good.” 

His thumb sweeps over your side. “And you can tell me if you’re ever not. You’re perfect regardless.”  

[hardcoregayanalsegx]

"Why would you do that to yourself" I'm trying my best to soothe the pain, trying to cradle it so that maybe just maybe it will stop crying out

[incognitopolls]

Content warning: discussion of self harm

–

Obviously there's cases where it might not be, but the question is can it.

–

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning

TW: Self Harm Mentioned/Implied

AN: next update our ladies will have a proper reunion but first tree farm tree farm! (Even though only the poor kids- and Bob- are the only ones super excited about it)

Transcript under the cut

Nancy Narrates: [All those years I’ve spent yearning, wanting, my whole self calling for her—and now she’s here]

Nancy Narrates: [This isn’t a dream. She’s here. I can feel the warmth in her cheek]

Nancy: I- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to- I don’t know why I did that. I shouldn’t have-

Vanessa: [laughs] It’s ok, Nancy! It’s good to see you too.

Vanessa: Wow, look at you. You’re all grown up, aren’t you?

Nancy: I- I-

Vanessa: Still filled to the brim with tears too.

Nancy: [softly] Sorry. I thought.. I thought I’d never see you again.

Vanessa: 16 years is a long time. I was worried you would have forgotten all about me.

Nancy: I could never forget you.

Vanessa: I’ve come all this way to see you.

Nancy: Have you really?

Vanessa: I know it’s been years, but I was hoping we could reconnect. I’m staying at the Fyres Hotel. Maybe we could have dinner there tonight. Catch up?

Nancy Narrates: [I had to physically restrain myself from saying yes. I realized, after all these years, I still would have followed her anywhere...but it can’t be this way. Not anymore..]

Nancy: [exhales] I can’t. I’m sorry. I had plans.

Vanessa: Ah! Well. I did pop in last minute. Maybe some other-

Nancy: You could come with me! I mean, If you like? We’re supposed to get a Christmas tree for the house; trying to set new traditions and what not.

Nancy: It’s silly but it’s important to them- my sons. I have two boys, by the way. I have to do this for them but- you’re here and I don’t know if I can see you leave again. God, am I rambling too much?

Vanessa: You want me to go tree shopping with you and your children?

Nancy: [blushes] Will you?

Vanessa: Lead the way.

-

Malcolm: What’s taking that lady so long!

Jonathan: Should we try and call mom again?

Geoffrey: [hums noncommittally]

Malcolm: He’s not even listening!

Bob: Hellooo? Earth to Geoffrey?

Bob: Iggy say, ‘what’s eatin’ ya, Uncle G?’

Iggy: [coos]

Geoffrey: Heh, sorry! Sorry. I guess I got alot on my mind right now.

Eliza: Is everything ok?

Geoffrey: Oh, yeah! Yeah, yeah- well...I guess I’m thinking about Nance?

Eliza: What’s wrong with Nancy?

Geoffrey: I’ve been thinking about what happened on our anniversary trip.

Bob: Yeah? What was it?

Malcolm: Mommy’s here!! Mommy’s here!!

Malcolm: Er, who’s that with my mommy?

Bob: Well, I’ll be damned! Talk about a throwback!

Eliza: [whistles] Oh, wow! Who is that? Is she a model?: Well, I’ll be damned! Talk about a throwback!

Geoffrey: Vanessa Villareal?

Nancy: These are my sons, Jonathan and Malcolm.

Vanessa: Oh! Oh, Nancy, they are beautiful.

Malcolm: Who are you, lady!

Nancy: Don’t be rude, darling. Vanessa is- was- she’s my..

Vanessa: I’m your mother’s best friend.

Jonathan: I’m Jonathan, but call me Johnny. This loud mouth is Malcolm.

Vanessa: Johnny it is. You must get those cool, blue eyes from your mom’s brother.

Jonathan: You knew my Uncle Nathan?

Vanessa: No, but I saw a picture once, a long time ago.

Vanessa: [turns to Malcolm] And you look just like your mother.

Malcolm: Are you a movie star too?

Vanessa: [chuckles] No, I’m not a movie star.

Malcolm: Then who are you lady?

Vanessa: I’m your Auntie V. You can call me that, if you like.

Malcolm: Aunt V, are you gonna pick out a tree with us?

Vanessa: You bet. You should know, I have a keen eye.

Nancy: Sorry I’m late..

Geoffrey: Better late than never. I see you had an eventful day.

Malcolm: No more talking! Let’s go already!

Jonathan: I want to find our tree with mom!

Malcolm: Well I’m taking daddy!

Bob: Alright! Long time no see, VV! Man, it’s been a while, huh?

Vanessa: Just V is fine. Billy, right?

Bob: [sighs] It’s Bobby. This is my wife, Eliza and this cool guy is Iggy.

Vanessa: [sheepishly] Right. Nice to meet you. Wasn’t there another one of you?

Bob: [chuckles] Cassie. We still keep in touch. She’s a travel blogger now. And I’m sure you remember ol’ Geoffrey here.

Geoffrey: Good seeing you, Vanessa.

Vanessa: Likewise.

Bob: Heck yeah! Let the festivities begin!

-

Jonathan: This one! This is the perfect tree, right, Mom?

Nancy: Mhm. Yes, that’s nice- I’ll be right back.

Jonathan: Oh..

Bob: Alright, what’s going on? You can tell me, it’s just us guys now, and Iggy here is great at keeping secrets.

Geoffrey: Nance was so sad on our trip, sadder than usual. I haven’t seen her so low since- well, since Vanessa left. And she kept apologizing to me.

Bob: You’ve mentioned before she gets in a mood sometimes, right?

Geoffrey: Well, yeah... that’s not all. I saw these bruises on the inside of her thigh.

Bob: [eyes widen] You think she’s hurting herself?

Geoffrey: Is that it, you think? At first I thought they were- you know, hickies?

Bob: Whoa. Hickies? On Nancy?

Geoffrey: [snorts] That’s crazy, right?

Bob: You should talk to her. If she is harming herself, you should get her help, bud.

Geoffrey: And if it’s not that...

Bob: Then, that’s another kind of conversation. But this is Nancy we’re talking about. You two have been bit by the love bug since high school. I can’t imagine her having an affair with some other guy.

-

Nancy: Hi.

Vanessa: Hi.

Nancy: Sorry if I’m being...odd. I guess, I’m still getting used to seeing you.

Vanessa: I don’t think you’re being odd. I think you’re being you.

Nancy: Is that a bad thing?

Vanessa: [giggles] No, not at all. You haven’t changed and it’s refreshing.

Nancy: Ah. Well. You haven’t either. I mean..you still feel like my Vanessa.

Nancy Narrates: [All those questions I craved answers for came rushing back to me the more I looked at her. Was my loving her just a girlish memory of our past? Did she ever hear my voicemail? Was it worth mentioning after almost 2 decades apart? After I’ve already married and had children? After I’ve sworn to dedicate my all to them-]

Vanessa: So, about that dinner. Are you free tonight?

[n1ghtmaresatdawn2]

Hi loves! Just a reminder that if you put a tw for your sh pictures and don’t put the option that lets you scroll past without seeing anything or selecting to see the post, people will still see your pictures against their will!!

If you click the button I highlighted in yellow before adding the pictures to your post, people who will want to see the pictures will be able to and people who don’t will not.

This is also an option:

I do not want to see fresh sh on my dash in public sometimes ‼️

[lostinwonderland-13]

"Sometimes I cut myself to see how much it bleeds. Its like adrenaline, the pain is such a sudden rush for me"

Eminem really hit the nail on the head

[yellowyarn]

wish people we're normal about self-harm.

can we please let people exist as self harmers without telling them they are wrong/bad for self harming or not wanting to "recover" (at all or in the expected way)? can we let people talk about it without telling them their too triggering all the time? can we let people and art exist with scars without requiring them to warn everyone that their body is too disturbing for people? can we stop trying to categorise reasons/types of self harm as (more) acceptable and unacceptable? can we stop shaming people for not taking meds or doing therapy?

[lazy-girl-living]

passing out from $h for the first time is an experience, to say the least.