#tried to text the mental health hotline thing

[rosicheeks]

.

[rustycottoncandy]

I somehow made it through the school day running on one hour of sleep

[virescent-v]

Hello! As someone who struggled with a SH Addiction…as wild as it sounds. I was wondering if you could do Reader(Sh Addiciton) is clean but had urges again and is struggling to fight them with Emily helping them? It would help me as someone whose struggling rn lol

Siren Call

A/N: Hi lovie, I tried my best with this. I have struggled with depression since my teenage years, and suicide ideations throughout that time. To be transparent, I've never dealt with self-harm. I hope I managed to capture those feelings for you and do this justice.

To anyone reading this: Check the trigger warnings. Protect yourself. Please reach out if you're struggling. You're not alone and the world is better with you in it. <3

SAMHSA's National Hotline: 1-800-662- 4357, or text your zip code to 435748 for help near you.

Warnings: Mentions of self-harm/cutting, mentions of razors. It's not very graphic imo, but again, protect yourself if these are not things you feel okay reading.

Word Count: 1.4k

It was a rollercoaster of emotion flowing through you. Ups and downs and turns that you could hardly keep up with. Numbness, but at the same time, a devastating whirlwind of thought. You weren’t sure how you could feel so empty but so full of emotion at one time, but you were. 

The depression was not new, a thing carried along with you every day from your adolescence, like a shadow or a tumor. Always there, sometimes bothersome, sometimes silent, and just waiting for a moment to shatter any progress you’ve made.  

Everyone you’ve talked to has dealt with their mental health differently; therapy, medications, denial. And, sometimes, those did work for you. You met with your therapist once a week (less, if you couldn’t afford it), you were on your third antidepressant, and you tried so hard to ignore how your mind betrayed you. 

The one thing that was consistent, that always helped with the emotions coursing through you, was physically releasing them. 

The first time you cut yourself, you were sixteen. You’d only learned about it from the darker corners of the internet, a place you shouldn’t have been. Too young, too impressionable. But, the first slice of the razor against the skin of your thigh felt good. As the skin tore apart from itself, as the blood oozed from the wound, all of your negative feelings went too. 

With each drop of blood, you felt the freedom from doubt, worry, anger, sadness. Each cut brought a feeling of euphoria, the dopamine replacing all of the emotions that were burying you. 

It was a habit that continued throughout your teenage years, and even early twenties. When the destructive thoughts got too much, the razor was there to bring color back into your life. But, as you got older, you got smarter, more diligent in the way those terrible thoughts would creep into your mind, suffocating the joy from you. You learned better coping mechanisms, learned how to manage the craving of the sharpness of a blade against your fragile skin. 

But still, the release would call to you, a siren of a dreadful sea you did not want to be a voyager on. 

On such nights, when the waves of despair rocked you too roughly, your girlfriend Emily was usually there to distract you, a life preserver to stop you from drowning. 

Unfortunately, Emily wasn’t always there. Her job was demanding, important, much more important than your broken brain. Which made tonight, a particularly rough night, hard for you. 

Everything seemed to be weighing down on you, going wrong, unavoidable mishap after mishap. The shadows seemed to wrap themselves around your brain, spindly fingers digging their claws in with no sign of letting go.

The siren call beckoned, a melodious tune that pulled you in, easing the racing thoughts in your mind. 

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, the reflection in front of you hardly recognizable. Your skin pallor, dry, dark under your eyes. You licked around your chapped lips, feeling the fuzziness of your unbrushed teeth. Your clothes hung off of your body, loose from multiple days of wear. Unkempt hair, a tangled mess atop your head. You looked as rough as you felt, the lack of sleep and self-care exacerbating your inner turmoil. 

Taking a shaky breath, you looked down at your hands, the newly purchased razor blade sitting in the box. Pretty, new, waiting for use. You imagined the shine of the blade against your skin, how the silver would contrast the uneven, blotchy shade of you. How the deep red hemoglobin would look, how it would bring color back to you. 

The call got louder. 

As you were about to tear open the box, a single word, a single thought, broke through the haze of your mind. 

Emily. 

The cacophony of noise halted. You knew that she wouldn’t be disappointed. She’s the only one who ever really understood this habit, this… addiction. Understood how the silence and the noise bantered back and forth in a way that was sensory overload, how sometimes the only way to get it to stop was to cut. To feel something else. 

While she wouldn’t be disappointed, you could imagine the look on her face, how her eyes would hold all of her thoughts. She’d get you through it, she always has, but sometimes her looks haunted you more than your own thoughts did. 

Instead, you picked up the phone. 

It rang twice; she never sent you to voicemail unless she absolutely could not answer. 

“Baby?” She whispered. You’d woken her up. “Everything okay?” 

You tried to talk. The air was trapped in your lungs, the only noise escaping you a hollow breath, a crushed whimper. 

You could hear Emily sit up in bed, the click of a lamp. “Love? Answer me.” Her voice was more alert, commanding, an edge of fear. 

You swallowed hard. Your breath coming quicker, everything threatening to rush out of you. “Em,” another shaky whimper, a plea. 

“Take a breath for me, sweetheart. You’re okay. I’m right here.” You could hear the rustling of clothes being pulled on. 

The box in your hands rattled as it fumbled onto the bathroom sink, your trembling hands unable to hold it. Another thing you couldn’t do your mind hissed at you. 

“I can’t - can’t ma-make it s-stop.” You forced the words out, stumbling them into each breath you inhaled. 

“I’m coming, baby. Stay on the phone with me. You’re okay.” A car door slammed, the engine roaring to life. A siren. 

“Listen to me. I’ll be right there. Listen to my voice.” Emily continued to talk, walking you through the case she was working on. How the weather was. Her favorite movie. Nonsensical ramblings to keep you focused on her. You’d grunt occasionally in response, a way to ensure her you were still listening, still there. 

Your vision tunneled, black around the edges, as your grip on the sink tightened. You could feel the rush of blood through your body in your ears, your limbs starting to tingle as the  numbness started. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed before you heard the front door slam, hasty footsteps through the hallway. A hand covering yours. 

Emily turned your body towards hers, her hands cupping your cheeks, trying to bring your eyes to hers. 

You felt paralyzed, stuck in a mud so thick and deep you couldn’t move. You tried to focus on Emily’s voice, the rubbing of her thumbs across your cheekbones. You tried to blink, tried to get your eyes to focus. 

Noticing that she wasn’t getting through to you, Emily wrapped you in the tightest hug she could, squeezing you as hard as her arms could handle. A way to help calm down your overactive nervous system, as if she was trying to transfer your energy to her. 

Eventually the shaking calmed down, the pins and needles in your limbs still pushing and pulling, beating to the accelerated pace of your heart. You were finally able to look at Emily, her eyes shining in worry, but also protectiveness. A lighthouse in a stormy sea. 

She tucked your hair behind your ear, checking over your body for signs of harm. Finding none, seeing the unopened box on the counter, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Let's go lay down, love.” 

She all but dragged you to bed, shoving you under the covers before turning off the overhead light. She walked back into the bathroom, presumably to get rid of the box of razors. 

Your eyes remained closed the entire time, listening to her fiddle around with things in your bedroom, the sound of her jeans hitting the carpeted floor before she joined you in bed. Her strong, warm arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to her, your head on her chest. 

Her hands traversed your body, as if taking note of each inch of your scarred, but intact skin. She paid extra attention to your previous cuts, the scars healed and raised and pink, a testament of your ability to withstand. Each line a reminder that you made it. That while the emotion swelled over you, overtook you, that you came out on the other side stronger. 

“Sleep, love. I’ll be here. We can talk about it in the morning.” 

All at once, exhaustion engulfed you. You settled more into Emily, breathing in her perfume, realizing at once that she was your saving grace, your protector. You were capable of overcoming anything with her at your side. 

Slowly, as you started to drift off to sleep, the blacks and grays of the shadows disappeared, replaced by a kaleidoscope of colors. Emily’s steady heart lulled you into a sense of comfort. In her arms, the noises and silence settled, the siren call faded into a calming ebb and flow of waves. What was once a tumultuous, dark and violent sea became a mellow, sparkling tide. With Emily, you were home and you were safe from the shadows that haunted you.

[theawkwardadult50]

!!!

https://www.tumblr.com/391780/753594607213871104/hey-uh-feel-free-to-delete-if-this-is-out-of?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/blackoutspoetry/753599396711743488/i-am-also-a-former-supporter-but-i-took-time-off?source=share

Hey there, thank you for sending this, I genuinely appreciate it. Uncertain as to how you found my account but I can infer how, I suppose.

All I can really say is that this has really fractured the fandom. A lot of amazing creators have been forced to leave the fandom due to this due to feeling unsafe. Which shouldn’t even happen in the first place.

Initially I was taking things at face value but later on became more skeptical towards it all. It was too much of a perfect storm. And now this has emerged, but too much damage has already been inflicted on the fandom. Harassment to all involved has been undue. If in any way I have contributed to this via my likes, then I deeply apologise. I've only ever reblogged one post relevant to the situation as it - if I recall from the time I was reading it - had more of a balanced take based on my interpretation. (Edit: I don't want to toss out certainties or my perspective at the moment since this is in a way, still a developing situation.)

Furthermore, in case anyone is looking at my void of a blog: i’m gonna turn off anon asks since fandom really only is a small portion of my life and I wish to remain a spectator and not an active participant (though that is debatable given how much i like content related to COD). However, if anyone does want to reach out to me to let me know if I've in some way, shape or form contributed to the harassment of any involved, please do let me know via my messages, which I'll leave open (if I don't then I apologise, it's been a while since I've used Tumblr beyond its basic functions, so it'll take me some tinkering with).

I’ve enjoyed my time with fandom in general but not any longer in the past few years. Not that I’ve directly involved myself with the COD fandom, or provided input. Not out of bad experiences, mind you - just merely out of dwindling interest as I've begun to focus on my own personal works.

But it still deserves to be treated with the gravity it does. For all those involved: no matter your decision or the outcome, I hope that you’re looking after your mental health and taking care. If you have a support network or just someone in your life you want to talk to, please do so. This situation has been taxing on all and has led to many stunning creators leaving out of fear, harassment and a lack of (rightfully so) faith in the fandom. I've no doubt that a lot of people just need to talk to someone or do something else meaningful to them to recuperate from all of this.

I don’t know if it’ll mean much, but please, just for anyone, if you ever feel like you need to talk to someone or have suicidal thoughts/intent/plans, please refer to Find a Helpline.

Find A Helpline is a useful search engine for crisis helpline and mental health support helplines: https://findahelpline.com/. I’ve tried it with a few countries and they corroborate with actual helplines.

Keep in mind that these numbers are NOT SOLELY for crisis prevention. These numbers also include services for anyone who just wants to talk, is seeking support for specific health conditions/circumstances, gender identity, disabilities, being a carer, substance use, etc. The ones for the countries I am familiar with are correct and verified.

Thank you Anon once more for sending me these links, I truly appreciate it. I've let it be a reminder to let mind trump heart in situations like this. Do let me know if you would like to discuss further in Tumblr DMs, I'm completely open to this.

And just in general - if anyone needs a chat, do feel free to reach out via DMs.

I wish you all well and take care.

[marzmeltdown]

Familiar Taste of Poison - pt.3

⌦ Pairing: Wonwoo x Fem!Reader ⌦ Genre(s): series,, angst,, fluff ⌦ chapter specific genre: fluff,, angst ⌦ Warning(s): !!TW: LIGHT MENTIONS OF Drug Use, Alcohol Abuse, mentions of depression!!, reader kinda uses Wonwoo, a lot of this will be in multiple pov's(I will clarify when it changes pov's), some mention of being sick, swearing, most of this chapter is all Wonwoo's pov, Wonwoo goes on a date with someone else. ⌦ Word count: 3.07k ⌦ Summary: You and Wonwoo have been friends since childhood, though you're both a little estranged from one another, the only contact being when you call Wonwoo for help. ⌦ A/N: This chapter is a bit longer than the last two but a lot happens to push the plot forward. It's really random that I put skz in here but I needed someone who had a sister. Fun fact about me, cause it's brought up in this chapter: I'm allergic to apples. The end of this chapter almost had a bitch crying at 4 am. If there's anything you feel I should improve on in the future, don't hesitate to let me know! You can find progress updates on this story and everything else I write in my pinned post every Wednesday.:) ⌦ I have attached a link to a website with help hotlines around the world, this series has heavy themes of mental health and substance abuse. This link will be added to every chapter. ⌦ International Mental Health hotlines

⌦ Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

⌦ marz’s tag list ⌦ marz’s req form

⌦(Wonwoo's pov) It had been a little while since he had heard from you; granted, you had never gone longer than a month without needing him to clean up your messes. This new-found silence from being your knight in shining armor allowed him to begin streaming again. For awhile, he had stopped because your calls of need would come in at least 4-5 times a week.

To say he missed you would be an understatement; he would lie awake after a long night of streaming, waiting for his phone to ring so he could pick you up. After three weeks of no calls, he began to believe that you had fully forgotten about him, all because of a little spat that he could've handled better. He had plans to express how he felt about you, but the world had different plans that day. Maybe you two just weren't meant to be friends anymore.

Wonwoo had tried to take his mind off things; he would distract himself by playing video games until the sun went down. That night, like every other night, he stayed up to play online with a few friends.

"If I die one more time because you're not paying attention, I'm gonna strangle you," Vernon threatened through Wonwoo's headphones. To be honest, Wonwoo was a little distracted today; he kept glancing down at his phone, hoping for a call, a text, or something.

"Sorry, I've just got a lot on my mind," Wonwoo replied, the sounds of his mouse clicking and keys clacking filling his room and his eyes beginning to grow tired from staring at such a bright screen for an extended period of time.

"Woo, you need to let her go. She's clearly not interested in your friendship and hasn't been for awhile," Minghao said. If Minghao were talking to anyone else, they surely would've been offended, appalled that he could say something so cold so calmly, but Wonwoo appreciated his honesty; he wouldn't want Minghao to be any other way.

"I agree with Hao; you should put yourself out there; stop waiting for someone who isn't hurting without you," Seungcheol chimed in, everyone having paused their game to give Wonwoo some free therapy while they sat in the Fortnite lobby.

"Are you guys suggesting a date?" Wonwoo asked, pushing his glasses up as he put his hands on his face, muffling his question just a bit.

"Well, I wasn't, but I know someone who'd be great for you," Seungcheol said. He could hear the shrug in his voice, playing matchmaker so nonchalantly. "I'll send you her info; she thinks you're cute anyway," he added. Within seconds, his words were emphasized by the sound of Wonwoo getting a text message. He glanced at the notification, half hoping it was from you and half hoping it wasn't.

It wasn't.

Wonwoo opened his phone, seeing that Seungcheol had sent her Instagram profile along with her phone number. He clicked on the link, leaning back in his chair as he scrolled through the professionally taken photos that filled the girl's profile.

"She is really cute," Wonwoo said, clicking on a few photos. There was a familiar face in a few of the photos, though they looked too much alike to be anything more than siblings.

"Seungcheol, is this Chan's sister?" Wonwoo asked, zooming in on one of the photos to get a better look at the girl's alleged brother.

"Bang Chan?" Seungcheol asked.

"Yea, Bang Chan,"

"Yea, why?"

"Just curious," Wonwoo said. He chewed on his bottom lip as he swiped back into his messaging app, looking down at the series of numbers Seungcheol had given him. "You said she thinks I'm cute?"

"Yeah, she talks about you all the time at work," Seungcheol said.

"Well, I'll text her when we get off. Wanna go for one more round?" Wonwoo asked, setting his phone down and getting ready to unpause the game.

"Sounds good," everyone said, continuing with their match.

One game turned into two.

Two games turned into four.

4 turned into 6.

By the time Wonwoo looked at the clock on the PC that displayed his Discord server, he was shocked.

3:26 a.m.

Wonwoo must have really had a lot on his mind; he never stayed up this late, not unless you had needed his help. He yawned, stretching his back when they were back to the games lobby, cracking his neck as it had grown stiff from sitting hunched over a keyboard for so long.

"I think I'm gonna get off guys, I'm getting tired," he said, not waiting for them to object before closing the game and turning his headphones, mic, and pc's off. Wonwoo grabbed his phone as he got up, walking to his closet to grab a pair of night pants and changing into them.

He unlocked his phone, looking at the number again as he began brushing his teeth. After a moment of hesitation, he finally added Hannah's contact information to his phone, messaging her as soon as he finished brushing his teeth.

⌦ Wonwoo: Hey, it's Wonwoo. I know this is super random, but Seungcheol gave me your number, if that's okay.

Wonwoo didn't expect an immediate answer; it was almost 4:00 in the morning. He looked at the unopened message as he left the bathroom, slipping his phone into his pocket and turning off the light. His phone dinged as soon as he walked into his room, and he only opened it once he had lied down in bed.

⌦ 3:55 a.m.

⌦ Hannah: Hey, Wonwoo! It's totally chill; why're you up so late? (Read 3:55 a.m.)

Wonwoo found himself smiling at her message and answering immediately.

⌦Wonwoo: I could ask you the same thing, lol. (Read: 3:57 a.m.)  ⌦Wonwoo: But I was playing Fortnite with Cheol and a few other friends and lost track of time. (Read: 3:57 a.m.)

⌦Hannah: That sounds like a lot of fun. (Read: 4:00a.m.) ⌦Hannah: Why did Cheol give you my number anyway? (read: 4:00 a.m.)

⌦Wonwoo: Uh, he's trying to play matchmaker. (Read: 4:00 a.m.)

⌦Hannah: Right (Read: 4:01 a.m.) ⌦Hannah: Well, what are you doing tomorrow? (Read: 4:01 a.m.)

⌦Wonwoo: Nothing as of right now. (Read: 4:02 a.m.)  ⌦Wonwoo: Why are you trying to ask me out? (Read: 4:02 a.m.)

⌦Hannah: Yea. (Read: 4:02 a.m.)  ⌦Hannah: How's coffee sound tomorrow at noon? (Read: 4:02 a.m.)

⌦Wonwoo: You're straight to the point, aren't you? lol (Read: 4:03 a.m.)  ⌦Wonwoo: But, noon tomorrow sounds great! (Read: 4:03 a.m.)

⌦Hannah: Great, I'll send you the cafe's info tomorrow. I'm about to fall asleep (Read: 4:03 a.m.)

⌦Wonwoo: Awesome, sleep well (Delivered: 4:04 a.m.)

Wonwoo reread the small interaction he had with Bang Chan's sister, smiling softly as he put his phone on the charger. He turned off his light, took his glasses off, and went to bed.

⌦(Wonwoo's POV cont) Wonwoo was thankful for his habitual routine of waking up at 9:00 a.m. every morning, regardless of when he went to bed. He forgot to set an alarm, having fallen asleep as soon as he put his glasses on his nightstand. Waking up this early gave him a few hours to kill before he had to get around, creating a schedule in his head for how long it would take him to eat breakfast, take a shower, shave, get dressed, and drive to the cafe. He planned on being 15 minutes early; he was always early.

Hannah had already sent Wonwoo the address of the cafe; thankfully, it was only a fifteen-minute drive from his apartment complex with traffic. He ate a light breakfast of two pieces of toast and a glass of apple juice; he'd be damned if he were going to willingly drink orange juice. He rarely ate toast, but with few food ingredients in his fridge or cabinet, toast was his only option.

With thirty minutes to spare after getting ready, Wonwoo grabbed his keys, locking his door as he left to go to his car. Hannah was already at the cafe when he got there, sitting in her car as she waited. Wonwoo parked next to her, pulling out his phone to let her know he was there. When she looked up from her phone, he waved at her with a smile, stepping out of her car to greet her on the sidewalk.

"Hey! I'm so glad you could make it," Hannah smiled as she pulled the taller male into a hug. Wonwoo was stunned at first; she surely was a bold woman, which he seemed to like about her.

"Why wouldn't I?" He chuckled, hugging her back for a moment before they pulled away and walked into the cafe.

It was a small cafe owned by a sweet elderly couple from France. The cafe always had French music playing softly through the store speakers; normally, Wonwoo would have found it nice and cozy, but today it felt cheesy. The two sat down after having ordered their drinks, exposing the poor barista to a small argument over who was paying for their drinks. Hannah won.

"So, tell me about yourself." Hannah smiled, taking a sip from her cappuccino before moving it to the side of the table so she could place her elbows on it, letting her chest rest against her forearms.

"There's not much to know," Wonwoo chuckled, swirling his straw around in his Americano and watching the ice move around with it. "But I'm in college for mechanical engineering, I stream on Twitch sometimes, and I'm a big Marvel buff," he said after a moment.

"Mechanical engineering? So you're smart and cute, huh?" Hannah teased, smiling at the redness that grew on Wonwoo's cheeks from her compliment.

"Tell me about yourself," Wonwoo said, directing the conversation back to the original topic.

"Well, I'm in college for fashion design; I also really like Marvel; and I want to get into PC gaming," she said. Wonwoo looked up at her, stunned that Seungcheol had finally set him up with a girl who shared some of his same interests, and he was already friends with her brother.

Wonwoo was pulled out of his thoughts as his phone rang in his pocket. He looked down at his pants and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Your name and contact photo were displayed on his screen; seeing this made his smile drop slightly. He clicked the side button, silencing the call, before looking up at the girl he was on a date with. "Sorry about that; I thought I put my phone on silent," he said as he placed it back into his pocket.

"It's no problem; if it's important, you can step out and answer it; I won't be upset," Hannah said, gesturing to the window that the two were sitting by. Wonwoo shook his head.

"It wasn't, and besides, it'd be rude to answer a call on our first date," he said.

"And you're considerate? Well damn, I might ask you to marry me right here," she laughed. She stood up after a moment, and in that moment, Wonwoo half expected her to get down on one knee and ask her to marry him. Instead, she grabbed her coffee with one hand and his hand with the other, pulling him up from his seat. "Wanna go on a walk?" She asked, swaying their hands back and forth.

"Are you gonna murder me?" Wonwoo asked, grabbing his coffee from the table.

"I might," she winked, sipping her cappuccino once more.

"At least you're honest," Wonwoo chuckled. His phone began to ring again once they left the building. He looked at it and canceled the phone call.

"Wonwoo, if you need to answer that, I don't mind," Hannah reassured as they began walking along the pathway.

"I don't, I promise." He said.

The walk was nice, and Wonwoo and Hannah seemed to be getting along a lot better than he would have ever imagined. It didn't take long for it to start raining. May's weather was never consistent, which seemed to be the only consistent thing in Wonwoo's life. Inconsistency. Wonwoo had given Hannah his sweater as they walked back to their cars; only when Hannah safely got into her car and pulled out of the parking lot did he leave.

He looked at his phone for a moment, seeing that he had five missed calls and ten messages from you, asking for your help. He almost answered the texts, apologizing that he was busy and couldn't get to his phone. Just as he was about to send his text, he sighed, thinking about what his friends had told him only 12 hours ago. Instead of sending the text, he closed his phone and drove home.

⌦(Reader's POV) You groaned angrily when your phone went to voicemail for the second time. Where was he? Why wasn't he answering? Was he still mad? Your head began spinning, even though you couldn't tell if it was because of your impaired state or because Wonwoo was finally giving you a taste of your own medicine. You had ghosted Wonwoo for the better half of your freshman year of college, having found new friends and devoting all of your weekends to partying, so when you finally got ahold of him, he was shocked.

"He works from home; where is he?" You said it angrily, your plethora of messages having been delivered but unread for the better part of two hours. That was what really set you off. He couldn't even give you the respect to apologize.

Against your better judgment, you snatched the keys from your kitchen counter and stumbled out of your apartment, having decided to confront him at his apartment. You've had a few years of practice when it came to driving under the influence, taking back roads, watching the road extra carefully, and driving cautiously, it was easy. Parking your car, you stormed up to his apartment, noting that his car wasn't in the parking lot when you had gotten there.

You called him again.

and again.

and again.

Until finally, you gave up on calling him and decided to send him a hundred more text messages.

⌦You: Wonwoo, I need your help... (Delivered: 11:00 a.m.)

⌦12:45 p.m.

⌦You: Wonwoo, why aren't you answering me??? (Delivered: 12:46 p.m.)

⌦12:57 p.m.

⌦You: Hello? Where are you??? (Delivered: 12:58 p.m.)

⌦1:05 p.m.

⌦You: I'm at your place (Delivered: 1:05 p.m.) ⌦You: Hello!!!!! (Delivered: 1:05 p.m.)

Just as you were about to call him again, you saw that all of your delivered messages had been read. You watched as the three dots by Wonwoo's name appeared.

Then disappeared.

Appeared again.

Until they disappeared for a final time.

Your texts to Wonwoo began to be sent one right after the other, sitting with your back against his front door as you drunkenly blew up his phone. Fifteen minutes had passed before you saw a pair of feet standing in front of you. You looked up and saw the man in question.

Angrily, you stood up shoving your phone in his face as you began to speak.

"I've been trying to get ahold of you for two hours now! Where were you?!" You yelled, and Wonwoo gently pushed your phone out of his face. He looked down, unlocking his front door before opening it to let you in. He waited for you to walk inside, quietly apologizing to his elderly neighbor before stepping inside himself.

"I got coffee," he said, setting his keys on the table by his front door and taking his shoes off.

"It took you two hours to get coffee." You asked in disbelief, crossing your arms as your blurred vision did its best to lock onto him.

"You didn't let me finish," he continued. He sat the now-empty to-go cup on his kitchen counter. "I was on a date."

Your heart dropped, and you weren't sure why either. He was only your friend, your shoulder to cry on, and your emergency contact because you knew he would bend over backwards for you.

"Oh," you said.

"Yea."

"You still could have answered after she left," you said. Your anger had softened just a little bit.

"Why? So I can pick your drunk ass up from some stranger's front lawn? It's 2:30, and you're already fucked up." He said, "Your jaw dropped. What was his deal? Why was he being like this?

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you being such a dick all of a sudden?" You asked.

"Because I'm tired of only seeing my best friend when she needs me to be her chauffeur because her other friends left her strung out on God knows what in some stranger's bathroom because she's too drunk to get home." He said. You could see that his words were hurting him just as much as they were hurting you; he wasn't making eye contact with you either. "I can't drop everything to come save you every time you need me; I have a life too," he said. This time his words were soft, almost upset that he'd finally told you how he really felt.

"Fine. I'll leave then." You said this, stepping toward the door only to have the pathway blocked off. "Wonwoo, get out of my way."

"No, I can't let you drive home like this," he said.

"Wonwoo. Get out of my way." You repeated. He didn't move.

"No," He said.

"Now you care about my safety?"

"I've always cared about your safety!"

"Evidently not; evidently it was a burden to you!"

"Do you know why I always dropped everything to come get you?" He snapped.

"To feel better about yourself?" You asked, your words laced with anger. Your eyes began brimming with tears, and your body began to shake. You need to get out of here as soon as possible.

"Because I love you, y/n!" Wonwoo snapped back. He stopped for a second, realizing what he had just said.

"What?" You asked, finally looking up at him.

"I love you.. and it kills me that you're killing yourself like this, but I can't be around you anymore if you're going to continue to hurt yourself. I will always love you, y/n; I hope you know that." He said this, grabbing his keys off the table once more. "Let's go; I'll take you home." You were sure this would be the last time you'd ever hear from him again.

[aydien677]

a little bit of mental health tips

first off hotlines;

988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline: 988 or Lifeline Chat.

Crisis Text Line: Text HOME TO 741741.

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 800-799-7233.

Childhelp National Child Abuse Hotline: 800-422-4453.

Darkness to Light Child Sexual Abuse National Helpline: 866-367-5444.

now tips;

Therapy? Not for everyone but emotions still have to go somewhere. for that I suggest Journaling out the events and maybe adding some art if that’s what you are into. a small thing that helps me is saying something I love about myself before bed or something I am grateful for. If you need a task-tracker thing I suggest using Finch because even though there is a subscription everything you actually need is free.

I swear I have heard so many people say “hAvE yOu tRiEd GoInG tO ThE GyM” and that is a tool but not the whole solution. Going to the gym can help with body image, making a healthy routine, and getting out of the house but that’s for those who want to.

For getting out of bed and finding self love. Say three small things you need to do and reward yourself for doing them with something you also need to do, for example I will do dishes, clean my cats litter box, and take out the trash then have a nice hot shower as a reward for doing it. For self-love I will name one to three things I love about myself and one thing I am grateful for. If I can’t find something I love about myself I’ll ask my friend or find at least one thing I enjoy about living.

[mortaljortlebortles]

I love Nikita Gill and the splendid sense she makes and this statement resonated:

My home situation involves none of the financial burden- but I have been looked after by two parents who were abused as children

One who cannot speak of his past, or even remember

Who needed control so badly last year that he took to feeding me less when he was struggling or picked up on something.. Even kindly. Who in anger at not knowing where he was going drove recklessly , and who appeared to be trying to scare me at the time(he lost control and we all do). 

And a woman who is ashamed of her mental illnesses and refuses help, but who is irrationally angry, delusional at times and has always needed us to predict her every mood. She tries her best and is so hurt and is kind. But we apologise for actions we didn’t make, mistakes we made that all kids make, for spilling things and for playing in a way which triggered her to think we didn’t love her enough. 

There are always lies, a lack of knowledge of what is true, no ability to predict the level of anger, conversations about the other which you have to support them with and never diss the other even if there is reason to. Never arguments only tears, passive aggression and apologies. 

Their abusers demand complete love and obedience and have since we were small- and we used to be looked after them 3 hours a day.

My parents cannot be wrong or misremember because there is hell on this earth.

Confusion, aggression and losing control to the point of hitting out isn’t okay

And you can love them and know its wrong

You can know someone is ill and still ensure your safety first

It isn’t selfish

And if you like me are mentally ill and do stupid things, thank people for helping you when they don’t remember, share traumatising things, show you are ill, ask for forgiveness because you are told you hurt people and show you need help-in my case

... that isn’t the same as being aggressive or evil or abusive

That’s trying and failing and growing and being alive

You just have to try to be kind and look after yourself 

respect people’s boundaries+ learn from your mistakes rather than shutting up and never ever ever believe you are painful- you are just in pain and need to get help 

( or get let someone you trust help you- tell them what you need not why you need if they or you believe they might feel the conversation too deeply)

though i struggle with these things everyday 

and I am still fighting to be treated

I know its true

and tomorrow is a new dawn and there is always something you can do

Help:Directory of International Mental Health Helplines - HelpGuide.org

United States

Emergency: 911

Non-emergency essential local services: 211

Suicide prevention

988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline: 988 or Lifeline Chat

Crisis Text Line: Text HOME TO 741741

Abuse and domestic violence

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 800-799-7233

STAND! For Families Free of Violence crisis line: 888-215-5555

Childhelp National Child Abuse Hotline: 800-422-4453

Darkness to Light Child Sexual Abuse National Helpline: 866-367-5444

Stop it Now! Prevent child sexual abuse helpline: 888-PREVENT

National Center for Missing and Exploited Children Hotline: 800-843-5678

RAINN National Sexual Assault Hotline: 800-656- 4673

Eldercare Locator (a public service of the U.S. Administration on Aging) to report elder abuse and neglect: 800-677-1116

National Center on Elder Abuse (NCEA) directory of state helplines

Mental health

National Alliance on Mental Illness NAMI HelpLine: 1-800-950-6264 or text NAMI to 741-741

Crisis Support Services national helpline: 800-273-8255

SAMHSA’s National Helpline (substance abuse and mental health): 800-662-HELP (800-662-4357)

Teen Line for youth in need of support: 800-852-8336

National Runaway Safeline for runaway and homeless youth, teens in crisis, and concerned family/friends: 800-RUNAWAY (800-786-2929)

Self-harm

S.A.F.E. Alternatives (Self-Abuse Finally Ends) self-harm helpline: 800-DONT CUT (800-366-8288)

UK

Emergency: 999 or 112

Non-emergency: 111

Suicide prevention

Samaritans 24/7 helpline: 116 123

Crisis text line: Text SHOUT to 85258

Papyrus HOPELINEUK for those under 35: 0800 068 4141

The Campaign Against Living Miserably CALM helpline: 0800 58 58 58

Abuse and domestic violence

National Domestic Abuse Helpline in the UK: 0808 2000 247

Women’s Aid online chat

Respect Phoneline for perpetrators of domestic violence: 0808 802 4040

Respect Men’s Advice Line for male victims: 0808 801 0327

ManKind Initiative for male victims: 01823 334244

National LGBT+ Domestic Abuse Helpline: 0800 999 5428

NSPCC helpline if you’re worried about a child: 0800 800 5000

NSPCC Childline for under 18s: 0800 1111

Action on Elder Abuse: 080 8808 8141

Rape Crisis National Telephone Helpline in England and Wales: 0808 802 9999

Rape Crisis Scotland helpline: 08088 01 03 02

Addiction

Frank helpline: 0300 1236600

Drinkline national alcohol helpline: 0300 123 1110

National Association for the Children of Alcoholics (NACOA) free helpline: 0800 358 3456

Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) National Helpline: 0800 917 7650

Al-Anon Helpline for family and friends affected by someone else’s drinking: 0800 008 6811

Narcotics Anonymous UK helpline: 0300 999 1212

Scottish Families Affected by Alcohol and Drugs helpline: 08080 10 10 11

DrugFAM Helpline for those affected by someone else's drug or alcohol use: 0300 888 3853

Families Anonymous (Famanon) Helpline for those who care about someone with a drug problem: 0207 4984 680

Release helpline for help and legal advice about drugs: 020 7324 2989

Dan 24/7 drug and alcohol helpline for Wales: 0808 808 2234

NHS Smokefree helpline for stop smoking services in England: 0300 123 1044

Smokeline for stop smoking services in Scotland: 0800 84 84 84

Help Me Quit helpline for stop smoking services in Wales: 0800 085 2219

Gamcare National Gambling Helpline: 0808 8020 133

Mental health

Mind Infoline: 0300 123 3393

Rethink Mental Illness advice line: 0808 801 0525

SANEline national out-of-hours mental health helpline: 0300 304 7000

NHS: 111

Find a local NHS urgent mental health helpline (England only)

Anxiety UK: 03444 775 774

Breathing Space (Scotland): 0800 83 85 87

SupportLine for emotional support on any issue: 01708 765200

Self-harm

Mind Infoline: 0300 123 3393

Self Injury Support Helpline for women: 0808 800 8088

ZEST (N. Ireland): 0287 126 6999

The Mix support for under 25s: 0808 808 4994

Republic of Ireland

Emergency: 999 or 112

Suicide prevention

Samaritans 24/7 helpline: 116 123

Crisis Text Line: Text HELLO to 50808

Abuse and domestic violence

Women’s Aid 24hr National Freephone Helpline: 1800 341 900

Men’s Aid Ireland: 01 554 3811

Childline Helpline Ireland: 1800 66 66 66

ISPCC Teenline: 1800 833 634

Age Action HSE helpline: 1850 24 1850

Rape Crisis Help Ireland 24 Hour Helpline: 1800 778888

Addiction

HSE Drug and Alcohol Helpline: 1800 459 459

Al-Anon Helpline for family and friends affected by someone’s drinking: 0800 008 6811

Mental health

Mental Health Ireland: 01 2841166

Aware Depression & Bipolar Disorder Support: Freephone 1800 80 48 48

Grow mental health support: 1890 474 474

Shine supporting people affected by mental ill health: 01 541 3715

you can always call your emergency services if you need help (or your doctors if you need non-urgent help)!!!

Your children aren’t meant to be therapists for your bad marriage. Your children aren’t meant to be the adults in the house if your partner isn’t home. Your children aren’t supposed to parent their younger siblings. Your children aren’t supposed to fix your financial woes. Putting these demands on children from a very early age is actually a form of abuse.

[artsyxabbyx]

Chapter 6

Monster Dearest

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter will have TWO disturbing scenes. Ximena is a very morally incorrect character. This chapter will have a SH scene (not detailed) and a scene where a parent lashes out at a child due to addiction/substance abuse (of a made up substance) but both child abuse and substance abuse are still VERY real issues and if you know someone struggling with either of these things please reach out to someone or check out literally ANY of these:

Crisis Text Line

Crisis Text Line offers advice and referrals for anyone who feels that they’re experiencing a crisis. This can include drug and alcohol dependency, suicidal impulses, family problems, and other personal difficulties. To access the Crisis Text Line, text HOME to 741741 any time, day or night.

National Alliance on Mental Illness HelpLine

The National Alliance on Mental Illness operates a helpline for individuals and their loved ones who feel they may be experiencing a mental health crisis. People who know or suspect they have a mental disorder or who believe a loved one might be suffering from such an issue can call 1-800-950-NAMI (6264) to get help. The helpline also accepts text contacts, and the alliance may be reached via email. Responses go out during normal business hours.

National Drug Helpline

The National Drug Helpline is open to any individual dealing with addiction issues, including family members and other loved ones. Resources are available for those struggling with any addictive substance, including alcohol, and professionals are available to help 24/7/365 at 1-844-289-0879.

National Institute of Mental Health Information Resource Center

The National Institute of Mental Health Information Resource Center hotline helps people suffering from mental illness find the resources they need to get treatment, including crisis intervention. Services are available in English and Spanish at 1-866-615-6464 or 1-866-415-8051 for TTY users. Live help is limited to regular hours, though online chat is also available.

————————/——————//——

Ximena had always been known as a loved woman. She had a loving husband, two sons that loved her more than anything, a mother that lived with them in a large cottage on the very top of the hill that overlooks the villages. She would always go to the village and trade the fruits and vegetables for swey that she could find, but never brought the collection home to her family. Instead, she would bring home weapons that she claimed to have traded the food for to soldiers.

Ximena knew the perfect people that would do anything she asked when the time was right, so when the time presented itself, she willed herself into an alleyway close to her friend’s house with nothing more than a few vegetables and a dagger tucked away into her boot. She knew what she was going to do was ridiculous, but she also knew that it was a surefire way to get exactly what she wanted.

Taking the dagger, she swiftly stabbed herself in the side, being sure to avoid going too deep to miss any arteries or major veins. Ximena threw the vegetables to the ground to make sure they scattered and hid the dagger back into the boot that she retrieved it from. Begging for help from anyone that would hear, two of her older friends bolted around the corner in a panic.

“Ximena! What happened?!’

The voice of the first man brought a tiny, downward quirk to her lip, he wasn’t the man that she wanted, but his brother.

“I’ve been stabbed- I wasn’t able to provide enough vegetables for a trade and he took an armful and ran! I couldn’t see which way I-”

The brother of the first man looks at her and tries to assess the wound from overhead, but Ximena was moving too much.

“I’ll be right back. I’ve got to get something to wrap you up with, quickly.”

As she continued her sob story, the very man she was looking for came into the alleyway with weapons and bandages.

—------------------------------------------------------------------

Ximena had always been known as a loved woman. She had a loving husband, two sons that loved her more than anything, a mother that lived with them in a large cottage on the very top of the hill that overlooks the villages.

All of that changed when her oldest son found the stacked gallons stash of swey and connected dots that she wasn’t ready for anyone to connect. So she did the only thing that made sense to her. Ximena lashed out on him, pulling her dagger on him and swinging rapidly, only the thought of keeping her final plan on schedule. Griffin let out a surprised cry and grunted as he dodged her swipes. He wouldn’t fight back, he loved her too much.

“You weren’t supposed to find this.”

Griffin didn’t know what to say. There was no explanation, no apology, just a blame to his name.

She landed one slash from his jaw to his bottom lip when she finally realized what she had done.

“You aren’t supposed to be here. My son.. I’m so sorry.”

Without another word, Griffin turned his back to her and ran. He didn’t know where he was going to run to, but he knew that he couldn’t tell his brother and he couldn’t tell his father in fear of tearing the family apart. He also knew that he couldn’t tolerate anything along the lines of what she had just done ever again, so he ran.

Ximena sighs and drops to the floor of the swey cellar, staring at the dagger in her hand. She began to sob and threw the dagger at the wall, flinching as it crashed to the floor. Realization shoots a chill up her spine when the truth that just attacked her eldest son for the sake of her own addiction hits her.

The love she did have was fabricated in an intricate caricature of her own design. If there was no way to regain the love she lost in a world she destroyed, then she would let herself drown in a pool of lies to avoid facing the truth of her faults.

“M’lady you are lost in your head once more.”

“I’m just thinking,Ordóñez.” The masked man let out a sigh at her calling him by name. Such a rarity was to be cherished in moments like these. He takes off his mask and clips it to the loop in his belt, waiting for her to continue, but she doesn't.

“That’s dangerous.” She could practically hear the small smile that crossed his features. Letting out a hum, she turns to face him. She never noticed how distressed the bags under his eyes had become.

“I suppose it is, but we make due anyhow. The human brain is a dangerous thing, yet we all have one. How strange, we are all equipped with the most deadly weapon of all, yet hardly anyone knows how to use it.”

Trailing off in her ramble of power and how the brain could be used more efficiently, Ordóñez couldn’t help but wonder when or if she was even capable of facing herself. How was it that such a broken, mourning yet strong woman could hide so much pain behind a veil of power? What was her true motive when it came to the rule that she held? Was she doing the things she did because she was simply scared of what would happen if she tried to turn herself around? If that was the case, Ordóñez would be the first to admit that he has been in that situation too many times to count. Maybe he continued on his sadistic path because he couldn't accept that he has done too much damage to be redeemed in anyone's eyes. The hole has been dug too deep, and digging deeper seemed to be the only option. That and praying that the digging will come to an end once he finds there is no floor and he falls to what he could only describe as a well-deserved end.

“Ordóñez.. you are lost in your head once more.” Ximena’s voice, laced in something between worry and fake annoyance pulls him from his spiral, something he is eternally grateful for.

“I’m just thinking, my queen.” He shakes his head, mirroring her earlier phrase.

“That’s dangerous.” She continues his banter as she takes a seat next to him in the large room.

The library that she demanded to be built was always her favorite place to go when she truly needed to clear her head. Something about the rows of books and the ancient text reminding her of years past helped her find comfort in the fact that there is a possibility of beauty in the pain that has been inflicted on both herself and the world she knew.

There wasn’t much seating, only five chairs and a loveseat, all covered in maroon velvet with dark wood for the structure. She had no intention of letting anyone into her safe space, so she didn’t feel the need to have too many places to sit, but once she met Ordóñez, learned what he had been through and found that he was just a little too similar to her, she decided he was the only living person that had the opportunity to invade such a sacred space.

[saebyeoked]

could you write some dating hcs for hyunsu before everything happened to him? i’m very curious bc i love the way you write for hyunsu! <3

yes!! most of these are based off of how i think he would be before sweet homes events. sorta set in hyun-su's last year of high school to after graduating. this was a lot longer than i originally anticipated but i hope you enjoy!

gn!reader

tws: mentions and depictions of suicide, suicidal thoughts, depression, anxiety and other mental health related things.

if you are struggling with thoughts of suicide, my pms are always open for you. as someone who's struggled with it myself, i understand and want to be there to help you if i can. call the suicide hotline number at 1-800-273-8255, or text HOME to 741741. you are worthy and deserving of life.

dating cha hyun-su before the events of sweet home headcanons

hyun-su doesn't think that he's worthy of anything. he hates everything about himself and it seems that everyone else does too, so love and relationships have never even set foot into his mind

his sister is so embarrassed to be related to him that she pretends she doesn't know him at all, and his parents aren't any better since they knew he was being bullied in school and they didn't care

he never thought anything would come out of his life so he wanted to kill himself. he hated waking up and living the hell he called his life and he knew nothing would change

and then he met you, the new student in his school who sat next to him in one of his classes. you always wore such a bright smile. you extended your hand, introduced yourself, and you weren't even hurt when hyun-su didn't respond. you just laughed, saying "you don't need to talk if you don't want to."

he was baffled by your kindness. he figured you would've been like everyone else in school. he thought he would've gotten a new bully the second you stepped into the room but he didn't

you sat next to him willingly and always tried to involve him in conversation. he was worried that your kindness was all a ploy to reel him in and then hurt him, but he managed to warm up to you slowly but surely

hyun-su catches feelings first but he refuses to act on them out of the fear of rejection. he has love so evident in his eyes whenever he looks at you and he thinks he's not being obvious

you're the only person who cares about him, even going so far as to stick up for him to the bullies who constantly harass him. you get insulted a lot because of your friendship with him and it makes him feel so guilty

you're aware that he hasn't done anything wrong for these people to be bullying him, so you try your best to be a friend to him. you often feel upset or even angry at his situation. he never deserved anything like this

you end up having feelings for him, too. you aren't too sure what it is about him that you like so much, but you adore everything about him

you make the first move. it's mentioned in conversation and he flushes red, his eyes widening as he avoids your gaze. he never felt worthy of anyone's love, but here you were, confessing how much you like him

he won't be able to form forms but he nods and you hug him so tightly he feels his chest tighten in such an amazing way. he hadn't ever felt the way you made him feel

he's really shy in your relationship. he won't ever initiate anything because he worries he'll mess something up and you'll get mad at him. he knows you wouldn't, but he still has anxieties because of everything he's been through

whenever you hold him it's the softest thing and it makes him feel so happy. his heart will race whenever you run your fingers through his hair and just look down at him when he lays in your arms. he can't ever describe that feeling

hyun-su has self confidence issues and while he doesn't expect you to help him, you do. you tell him how perfect he is all the time, how kind and incredible he is. all of the things he needs to hear from someone he loves

he wants to be able to protect you. he feels like you're almost too pure of heart to be with someone like him, so to make up for it he promises himself to prioritize you and your safety over his own

ever since you met him you knew he was struggling with his mental health. it never made you think less of him and instead it just made you think about how strong he was to still be living

you know about his suicidal thoughts and self harm, so whenever he's feeling down he'll message you and you'll come over to spend time with him. he doesn't want to force you to come see him but you never complain about it. you always tell him how you'd rather be with him and help him instead of him be alone without anyone knowing what he was going through

he wants to take you out on dates. he feels like he can make it up to you whenever he takes you out. he wants to thank you for being there for him every step of the way so he'll bring you somewhere he knows you like

hyun-su will spend more time at your home than at his own. it's even better if your parents love him. he feels more welcome in your home with your family than with his own

whenever he thinks about suicide, right before he's about to follow through he thinks about you. he thinks about you and how much faith you have in him and how much you've helped him. he thinks about how he makes you smile and how incredible you are to care about him, and he stops. he calls you and talks to you to calm him down

while his mental health is a huge part of his life, he will never make you feel like his therapist. he'll only ever vent to you if you say he can and even then he'll be wary of how much he tells you. he doesn't want you to be worried about him

he really loves to cuddle with you. whether you're curled up in his arms or he in yours, he doesn't mind. he won't ever stop thinking about how the two of you practically fit together like a puzzle whenever he touches you. it makes him so happy

he adores the way you look at him. it makes him feel so loved and so wanted, things he never thought he'd feel again. though, whenever he looks into your eyes all he sees is admiration and happiness

he notices all of the little things about you, the sparkle in your eye whenever you smile, the furrow of your eyebrows whenever you get frustrated. he's very observant and he loves all of the little things about you that most wouldn't notice

you're his first love. he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, if you'll have him, and he doesn't ever want to lose you somehow. he hasn't cared this much about anyone in his entire life

hyun-su admires every single thing about you. he loves the way you smile and the sound of your laugh. he loves your kindness and determination, and the way your eyes soften every time you look at him. it makes his heart ache

if you ever tell him how he makes you feel his face would flush and his heartbeat would quicken. he never knew how much he truly meant to you until you told him. he knew you loved him but hearing it meant so much to him

his mental health improves during your relationship. his anxieties and suicidal thoughts don't disappear permanently but he notices they show up less frequently and he finds it easier to get out of depressive episodes while in a relationship with you

you give him hope that he can make it through anything, including his mental health struggles. you're the light at the end of the tunnel and all he wants is you to be there to hold him when he needs it

he's a really loving boyfriend even if he doesn't have experience before you. he knows exactly what to do to make you happy somehow

just the mere thought of him puts a smile on your face. you love him so much and knowing that he loves you too makes you filled with so much joy. knowing that you've been helping him makes everything worth it

hyun-su believes he can be a burden to you but you'll never let him think that. you always want to be there for him and you'd rather him talk about anything he wants to than to suffer in silence like he had been before. he would never be a problem to you and it's a new experience for him knowing he's welcome to talk to you about his feelings

he doesn't mind pda, but he worries that you being seen with him in public would make you the target of even more bullying. you don't care and still entwine his fingers with yours and it's the happiest he'd been in school before

he thinks less about his family and how much they can't stand him, and instead he thinks about you and how you'd do anything for him

he thinks you're a guardian angel or something sent to protect him from himself. without you there's no doubt in his mind that he wouldn't be alive anymore but there you were— caring so much about him and his wellbeing

he spends most of his time with you because you make him feel things he'd never felt before. the way you smile at him makes his heart warm so quickly and always makes him happy

he doesn't understand why you love him and he doesn't think he ever will. you might've told him everything you love about him before but that doesn't mean that he'll think he's worthy of your love

he's beyond grateful that you love him and are there to help him with anything and everything but he fears that he just isn't enough for you and that you deserve someone better who can do more with you

whenever his mental health gets worse he'll lock himself up and his room and won't come out for days. he'll only come out when he sees you, he'll wrap his arms around you and hug you so gently. he thought it would benefit you, not having to worry about him, but when he saw your tear-stained eyes he wouldn't ever do it again

instead, he'd go to you. the two of you would stay indoors and watch movies, cuddle, play his favorite video games. you'll do anything just to make him happy even if it's just for a moment

his kisses are so soft. he kisses you so gently but so passionate, he feels like if he pulls away or lets you go you'll disappear and he'd wake up from a dream alone in his bed for another day of suffering

but when he pulls away, the only thing he's met with is you and your smile. your adoring gazes and sweet touches that he never wants to let end. he feels so comforted when he's around you, like he doesn't have any worries in the world

he'll get so flustered if you kiss him, though. while he loves it more than anything he always gets embarrassed. it still hasn't clicked in his mind that you love him yet so he gets startled by it sometimes

kiss him on his neck? it's even worse. if you leave a mark, expect him to hide his face in his arms to cover his flushed cheeks and pink nose. he loves when you leave marks on him though, whenever he sees them he thinks about you and the joy you bring him

if you're ever feeling the way he feels, he'll comfort you to the best of his ability. he wonders if the way he felt in that moment was how you feel all the time. filled with so much worry and yet also love and hope. he hopes it isn't

he's an incredibly boyfriend even if he doesn't think he is. he knows how to put a smile on your face and how to cheer you up

you are his favorite person in the world. the way you smile at him like it's only the two of you on the planet makes his heart explode and the kindness evident in your eyes always makes him so happy

while he feels he isn't deserving of you, you reassure him all the time that he's everything you've ever wanted

without you, he wouldn't be where he is. happy, recovering and in love

[butwhyduh]

So do u mind if u can do a bat-fam thing finding out your doing self harm and being harassed (Ik this is a sad request but I wanna know).

Dick- will try to get help. What you need he will try to find. Maybe not the most empathetic but will make up for it with enthusiasm to help. Will be a good boyfriend around you and will beat the brakes off anyone harassing you. Like Jason would think death would be kinder, eating out of a straw, kinda beating.

Jason- does someone wanna die today? He will find whoever is harassing you like Jon wick after those dudes that killed his dog. Then he’ll be there for you and try to help prevent more self harm. He gets it and maybe gets a little emotional at the thought of a partner is self harming.

Tim- will destroy the person harassing either socially or financially in a way his family would side eye in horror. If he can’t, then he’ll beat them up. Probably would be the couple to go to therapy together because some of his actions scream passive self harm and he could use help. Supporting each other’s mental health journey.

Damian- research and implements the most scientifically sound techniques to help you if you need it. Tries to follow any good advice they give for himself as well. “I was informed that expressing your emotion is more positive outlet and I-“ oh, and he definitely stabbed someone for harassing you…. If they didn’t disappear mysteriously. 🤫

Bruce- okay so he tries. He would be similar to Tim in that he would ruin any harasser the best he could. But he is a disaster for mental health. He’s 20 years too late on therapy. Will offer you the best mental health professionals in the world. Runs away to a country you’ve never heard of if you try to take him in. But will follow any suggestions from the therapist exactly for what you need.

And if anyone needs it, here is a link to a crisis hotline that also addresses self harm. I haven’t personally texted them so I can’t guarantee results but it’s worth a try. https://www.crisistextline.org/topics/self-harm/

[the-story-of-a-teen]

#mystory

I got inspired by a youtube video, which was a talk by a father that lost his son to suicide. This is what I wish I could tell my parents, when I was a teenager. (I’m 24 now)

If you are suicidal please call the suicide hotline for your country or talk to a mental health professional. TW: This posts discusses suicide, eating disorders, suicidal idealization, religious trauma, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, sexual assault, slut shaming.

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01/01/2010

That was the day I was the closest to killing myself, I wanted to poison myself, cut myself, or access the guns, of which I knew were the keys were and I knew where the ammunition was. The thing that stopped myself was my friend Edward, who you claimed was a devil worshipper, a bad influence, and a ‘hussy’. Edward was the only person who seemed to understand me, who took time to be my friend, and would rant with me about the things we went through. 

I don’t know how many times I tried talking to you over the years, those times when I went “Hey mom, hey dad, can we talk soon?” “Hey mom, hey dad, can I talk to you but you have to promise not to get mad.” “Hey somethings going on.” but every time I did that, you would get angry, get upset, or invalidate my feelings completely. You didn’t even seem to care that I was struggling, even though I made it as obvious as I could as a 13 year old could. Instead of making time to talk to me, you tried to get me to talk on your time/terms, when I wasn’t ready to talk to you about it. This wasn’t the first time you had done this either. I remember as a child I would try and tell you things and you would shush me, we even had a little nonverbal cue to when I wanted to talk to you, I would hold your wrist when I wanted to tell you something, but you would ignore that as well, no matter how long I waited. 

This is why I felt like I could never talk to you about things, you would brush me off as unimportant, you would tell me that without ever saying the words. You didn’t care if I wanted to tell you about something I found interesting, or wanted to ask you if I could go play with my friends. 

This leads me into the next reason, you would never let me out of your sight, let me have anything private, or simply do things by myself. Even if I wanted to go play with my friends on the playground less right outside the building you were in, I needed to ask your permission, tell you exactly who I was playing with, and make sure my friends also had permission (when they didn’t need permission). As I grew older this type of overprotection grew more and more. I had to ask you to play in the drive way or back yard, to have my friend’s parents talk to you when we wanted to have a sleep over, to have food from the fridge, to watch tv, to play pinball on the computer, to read, to do anything I wished to do. You then wondered why I had separation issues, you NEVER let me be alone. When I was 10 or 11 I started keeping a journal. It had a lock on it, and I put the keys in a safe place that I thought was secret. One day the keys disappeared. I had put them back, but still searched through my room and the rest of the house, except your room, because you wanted your privacy. The day after that my journal was different from how I originally put it. I thought it was weird, and hid it somewhere else, but you found that spot too.  You then brought up very private things I had put into my journal as a vent, things I had certainly never told you, and things I swore I had never told anyone else unless they swore on their mother’s grave and promised not to tell. 

You took away my door when I would accidentally slam it when I got emotional, and because you ‘couldn’t trust me to be alone’. You wouldn’t let me hang a curtain or anything so I could change and not have people walk in on me.

When I got old enough to have a cellphone, I caught you sneaking into my room and taking my cellphone, or sitting in my desk chair and going through the messages. You would then interrogate me on my text messages, and would openly take my phone and go through my messages, despite me pleading you not to. This lead to me intentionally setting alarms that would go off through the night, and could only be stopped with a passcode which only I knew.

You would interrogate me any time I wanted to go on the computer to do anything, you forced me to lie to have any sort of freedom to talk to people, look at memes, listen to music, or play games on the computer. You even put parental controls on my computer that would monitor everything and take screen shots, I was allowed exactly 45 minutes a day, which you wouldn’t compromise on, even when I was talking to my friends that lived hours away from us. Then you would get mad when I would trick you into allowing me access so I could change those settings, what else could I do? There was no compromise. Additionally you made me give you every password to every account I ever had, and would get mad when I would change the passwords because you would go through private messages and post on my accounts. Even when I was almost 18, and handed over my computer to show you the receipts, you couldn’t help but go through the whole conversation, even though I told you not to and you promised not to. 

On the xbox you would hack into my account (Which I had a passcode on), and would read through the messages, you would have to approve every game and made sure it stood up to your religious and moral standards, or hear me plea to be able to have a game I was interested in. Even when you had approved the game, you had to watch me play it, I wasn’t allowed to enjoy the game on my own.

You thought you were entitled to walk into my room at any time. You wouldn’t listen when I would tell you ‘one moment, I’m changing.’ Instead you would waltz right in, even when I was naked. You would barge into my bathroom, even when I told you to wait. Then you would get mad when I was upset over this. Maybe I didn’t want my parents to see me naked, even though ‘you saw me naked as a baby and child’.

How was I supposed to talk to you openly when you would violate my privacy? When I could have nothing to myself, be able to vent and get my feelings out in a healthy way, to talk about things I didn’t feel I needed to or could tell you, to talk about things I know you all opposed and would interrogate me on, to just talk about day to day things? 

When I started dating I was hypersexual. I admit that. When puberty hit I became very sexual and physically affectionate without knowing it, but you started to analyze and criticize me for every action I made. I was touch starved, and craving genuine affection. I wanted to feel loved, to feel wanted, to feel appreciated, and to feel alive. I felt dead inside. I barely got any affection, even from my parents, from other family members, and those I was childhood friends with and was no longer close to. I went to seek that affection with other people, I called my friends parents ‘mom and dad’ because of this and how you all were. You emotionally neglected me. Sure I had physical things, but that wasn’t what I wanted or needed. I need your love, your time, and your acceptance. The only way I got that was through teenage boys that would give me their love, time, acceptance, and physical affection. I even went out seeking any of those things online, which lead me to an early discovery of porn (I was 11), of online chat rooms where I could do smut rps and flirt (I was 13), and teenage dating sites ((common in the 2000′s)(I was 14)). Instead of figuring out what the root of this was, and trying to listen, actually listen, you went about accusing me of different things related to what I had found, even when I wasn’t. You were telling me that you were expecting me to do those things, and that I had to lie to you all to have any sort of freedom. You though dating was only to get married, you had the ‘date to mate’ mentality.

I started dressing in popular clothes of that time, and finding ways of expressing myself and my feelings. Gone were the days of pink dresses and frills. I liked black, blue, and purple, rather than pink and purple. I wanted to wear tighter fitting shirts that were comfortable, easy to move around in, and had fun graphics and words on the chest area. I wanted to wear cute skirts and shorts, as well as skinny jeans, and leggings. You were unhappy with all of it. I was 13 and a C cup, it wasn’t my fault that I couldn’t find anything cute that would comfortably fit. I liked wearing shorter shorts, skirts, skinny jeans, and leggings because they were comfy, easy to move around in, and made me feel free and happy.  I can’t tell you how many times you criticized my hair, make up, and clothes. You would constantly tell me that I looked like a hussy, like a prostitute, like an attention seeker, like a devil worshipper, like I was ‘asking to be raped’. You said the same things about other people behind their backs, and you didn’t like it when I used your religion against you. You would ask me if I would wear that around ‘God’, or ‘Jesus,  and I would say yes. You would tell me that I would be distracting to guys, or that they would look at me a certain way. I simply said that they shouldn’t look if they can’t control themselves, and that the bible said that any man who looked at a woman with lust in his eyes should gouge them out. You hated when I was right, and would deny that you were wrong.

How was I not supposed to be hypersexual, even when I had been sexualized and been deprived of any affection since I was a child?

At the age of 6 you had me start working out because I had “baby fat” and was overweight at my age. You started only having and making healthy things to eat, then would get mad when I liked the taste of some of them, and would eat more than my ‘portion size’. You limited my food intake, and made me work out so I could ‘loose weight’. At 9 this all got worse, as I was beginning to go into puberty, was getting breasts, and had more baby fat moving to my hips. You started humiliating me for getting seconds at dinner, for eating three meals a day, and for continuing to go through puberty. You would also get mad at me for having things like white bread (I hate the texture of wheat and wholegrain), white rice (I don’t like the texture of brown rice), or any sort of junk food. It was no surprise that I started to starve myself so I would fit your standards. 

Why wouldn’t I have an eating disorder when that was all I heard all day every day?

These are the main things that lent to my depression, made it worse, and made me want to kill myself from an early age. These are the main behaviors that made me despise my parents and cut them out of my life. These are what you should avoid. If you want to have your kids in your life, don’t do these. 

[fairycosmos]

i just spent 2 hours trying to hang myelf and when that didn't work trying to strangle myself with a cord. i tried so hard. my face is full of broken blood vessels, my eyes too and my neck feels tight and is bruised and i cant swallow. im in such pain. physical and emotional. why is it so hard. i want to die. im so alone. i hurt so much. even killing yourself is a luxury i have no access to pills or drugs. i want to die it hurts so much my neck hurts everything i want to die

hey, jesus dude i’m really really sorry. obviously you’re in a lot of pain right now and i don’t want to condescend to you when i don’t know your specific needs or history. you may not be in the headspace to be able to take any of this seriously and if that’s the case i understand, but i hope you can come back to it when you are ready. i just want to let you know firstly that i’m so so glad you’re still here and that you are absolutely not alone. can’t imagine what has gotten you to this point and i don’t blame you for being tired because whatever it is, i can see that it is all so very difficult in the most unexplainable way, and i don’t want to minimize that at all. but the fact that you’re alive and surviving this moment, no matter how much you don’t want to, counts for so so much. your future self knows it too. please for now, just get yourself to a safe and familiar location and work on trying to come down from the adrenaline rush. breathe in for 4, hold for 4, out for 4. name 5 things you can see, 4 you can physically feel, 3 you can hear, 2 you can smell, 1 you can taste. understand that these little habits are not cures to your situation obviously, i’m not saying a few deep breaths is going to fix anything. there is clearly a much larger issue at play here, it’s just a matter of grounding yourself in this moment so you can find some clarity. mental illness only functions to warp your entire reality and level of judgement, you can not trust your brain or your beliefs about yourself/the world right now. i know it hurts and it feels like the realest thing in the universe. but these impulses are so strong that they’re generally not built to last - you CAN move forward from this and you CAN find a healthier way to do it. no matter what your mind is telling you. if you have ever felt like this before and gotten through it, then that is proof of this.

are you so injured that you need to call an ambulance or go to the ER? are you struggling to breathe, having chest pain or coughing up blood? if so, please call them right now. please. if not, is there anyone less immediate that you can call? i’m talking a suicide hotline, a friend, a family member, your doctor, your therapist if you have one, literally anyone. your brain is likely going to reject this idea but it’s one of the most effective ways of stopping this suicidal cycle that you’re currently stuck in. people care about you, they do, and it’s important to give them the opportunity to show that. you need outside intervention to mediate the situation, and it is perfectly ok to need that support. it is truly completely understandable and it is not going to be anywhere near as bad or as scary as your fear is building it up to be. please consider reaching out to someone my love. i’m not just saying this just to say it, your life has so much inherent worth and your current circumstances are not where you’re destined to stay. i understand that it’s tiring and sometimes it doesn’t feel worth it hanging on day after day, just for some vague notion of improvement occurring in some far off future. but even on a day to day basis there are small things work sticking around for. even in the midst of absolute agony. please try to consciously explore these reasons for living, even if all you want to do is lean into your reasons for dying. it can be something as simple as eating your favourite food again. no, it doesn’t compare to the amount of pain you’re in, but it is a good reminder that the pain isn’t all there is. please just focus on getting through the next hour and doing whatever it takes to achieve that, rather than trying to figure anything out. it’s alright to be all over the place, to be exhausted, it is not alright to harm yourself because of it. even if it takes you forever to learn that distinction, the whole point is to try. that is more than good enough. you are so strong and capable and good. you are supposed to be here and things would be irreparably different without you even if you genuinely can’t see that. you deserve to move forwards, you deserve to have a strong and healthy support system, you deserve to get to a place that feels less chaotic and more peaceful. i believe in you and i honestly think you can do it. speaking and working with the right professional over an extended period of time honestly gives you the tools to learn to manage these feelings and emotions in a way that stops them snowballing and getting to this point. being listened to, acknowledge and formulating a plan can make all the difference. as with any physical illness, treatment is necessary in order to heal but it is not some far off impossible thing to seek. it can be done, even just through a mental health organization in your area or by talking to a friend about what’s going on at first. any step in the right direction is something to be proud of. and sometimes that just looks like laying in bed surviving the day. i appreciate you sharing this w me and i know this must’ve been one of the worst days of your life, i really am so sorry. please, please consider calling or texting someone and getting some rest when you can. my inbox is open if you need a friend, i’m sending you so much love. please take care. x 

https://www.opencounseling.com/suicide-hotlines

https://www.mentalhealth.org.nz/get-help/a-z/resource/50/suicide-coping-with-suicidal-thoughts

[nerdygaymormon]

hey, so i was wondering what do i do when i tell my mom about suicidal thoughts and she immediately responds with "don't give into satan!! he knows how powerful you are!!" like mom its my brain. i have a chemical imbalance in my brain. how to i get her to understand that its actually me? im having a really hard time with her and this. sorry if this is triggering

You didn’t write me anonymously, which was very courageous. Thank you.

And you didn’t ask me to keep this private, and so I’m responding publicly. 

Maybe others will read this and it will help them as well. 

And others will see you wrote this and might send you DM’s checking in on you, see how you’re doing, do you need to talk. That’s the thing about our queerstake community is we are like family, you can talk to us and we can talk with you.

————————————————————

Wow, that’s a response I wouldn’t have expected from a mom. Not helpful at all. 

I’m trying to imagine what I would say to my mom after that. I’m going to write my thoughts as though I was trying to explain to my mom and hope it gives you some ideas of how you might approach your mom. 

————————————————————

Hey Mom,

When I tell you I’m having suicidal thoughts, it means I’m having a hard time. It doesn’t mean Satan has ahold of me. This is about mental health. This is like if I told you my back is hurting or I feel like I’m going to throw up. Prayer isn’t the answer, or not the only answer, I need someone who is trained and can help me. 

I don’t know if we have insurance for mental health professionals or if the bishop can help me to see someone, but I need some help. 

When I tell you something like this, I need you to love me and to reassure me and to be on my team. 

I know that talking about suicide stuff can be scary, it’s even scarier to be the one having the scary thoughts, but I need to be able to tell someone I trust about my feelings. I trust you mom. 

I need you to tell me that it’ll be alright, that you love me and I’m not a burden. 

If I can’t tell you, then I don’t know, I might drown in these thoughts, I just can’t control them at times. 

————————————————————

I tried to reframe the discussion to mental health and away from the devil, I let her know what I need from her, and I told her that I went to her because I trust & love her. You can find your own words to convey those messages

————————————————————

Our church put together a website I hope both you and your mom will find helpful: suicide.lds.org. Elder Renlund has a very good video that might help your mom understand this isn’t a sin but a health matter. Several of the other videos are good.

The website also has crisis hotlines that can be contacted and those can help you through the worst times when the thoughts are racing and you can’t stop them or your feeling so dark and overwhelmed that there doesn’t seem to be even a ray of light or hope available. They can also talk to you or your mom about resources that can help you. 

I don’t know if you want your mom to know you’ve been on tumblr, but you could show her you found this post that looks useful (one of my posts about suicide). 

I have two things to share with you. The first is one of my most favorite posters. You are not weak, you are incredibly strong. Far stronger than you recognize and I hope this poster helps you see that.

The other thing is that Nobody could ever replace you. Nobody. 

I’m going to share some a picture with hotlines that are good at working with LGBTQ people. Please notice that the Trevor Project even does texting so you don’t have to actually call. And beneath that I’m putting the poster I like (save you from having to click on the link).

[compassionatereminders]

Yeah like I think it's good that some people can find verified experienced listeners but that's a very hard thing to do when you're distressed enough that you just need someone to listen in the moment and I wish there was a text service that actually trained people instead of putting that on their users because personally I have so much trouble with talking on the phone and the only times I tried 7cups was when I was in a lot of pain, mental health services let me down and I couldn't even call a hotline

Yeah it really sucks how vulnerable people in crisis are being pushed towards inadequate resources which may do more harm than good out of pure desperation.

[uncloseted]

MASSIVE TW - SUICIDE, DEATH, DIFFERENT TYPES OF SUICIDE EXETRA

i wanna die. i’m going to do this no matter what anyone says and nothing can change my mind. i’ve looked at family photos, talked to the few friends i have that don’t even care about me ect and nothing is changing the fact that i am going to kill my self and i’m sorry for asking you this i really am but do you think overdose or a hanging will be easier on not only me but it also who finds me

I’ve been thinking a lot about whether to answer this question, or how to answer this question, or what the right thing to say or do is.  I’m not a mental health professional.  I’m not a doctor, I’m not a therapist, or a counselor, or a social worker, or someone who studied psychology.  I’ve never even worked at a crisis hotline.  I’m just someone who listens to people talk about their problems on the internet and sometimes, if I can, tries to help.  But at the same time, I don’t want to be another person who you feel doesn’t care about you.  You may not believe it right now, but I do care.  I care about each and every one of you so very much, and I can’t stand the thought of any one of you suffering.  So I want to answer.  I want to be able to help.

First things first, please, please call a suicide crisis line (you can find your country’s crisis number here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines, and some also have a texting option).  The people who answer those calls are trained to be able to help you, and they’re an incredible resource.  They are always free and confidential.  You can also go to an emergency room (or call 911 for a person trained in suicide prevention to come to you) when you’re feeling suicidal; they’ll be able to get you counseling right away, and help you come up with a long term plan for feeling better.  If you can, I would also suggest talking to a family member, teacher, or other adult that you trust about what you’re feeling.  They can get you in touch with a therapist or doctor. 

Please consider seeking help. There are lots of different things that can help people who feel depressed or suicidal, and I think it’s worth giving them a chance. The worst that happens is the help doesn’t work and you’re back where you started.  The best that happens is you start seeing all the reasons there are to live, and you prevented yourself for making a permanent decision to a temporary problem.  And it is a temporary problem- one of the most common things that survivors of suicide say is that they immediately regretted it once they began their attempt.  Over 90% of people who have survived a suicide attempt don’t end up killing themselves later.  In my own life, I’ve seen this to be true- not a single one of my friends who have been suicidal still feel that way now.  None of them are even depressed; they’ve all found solutions that work for them, whether that’s lifestyle changes or therapy or SSRIs or experimental ketamine, shroom, MDMA, or TMS treatments.  Depression isn’t a state of being, a weakness, or a moral failing.  It’s a disease.  And just like any other illness, it deserves to be taken seriously and to be treated.  There is something out there that will work for you.  The situation is not hopeless, and you are not helpless.

I know it doesn’t seem like it now, because your depression is preventing you from being able to see the way out, but things can and will get better.  I know the world feels really bleak at this moment in time, but this time will pass.  The virus will end, the world will open up again, we’ll be able to go places and experience new things and meet new people who love us more than we’ve ever been loved before and fall in love and find people to care about and pursue passions and rebuild the world to be a better place.  Already, there is so much hope if you look for it.  The virus has shown the dark side of our world, yes, but it’s also shown how many people will make incredible sacrifices for the sake of others.  Even in the darkest of times, there are always people who care and who love. 

And there are always reasons to stay alive.  They don’t have to be big reasons.  They can be small, silly reasons, like wanting to see the next episode of a TV show you’ve been watching or a movie you saw a preview for, or wanting to go to the beach again, or that really good burger you had at the diner that’s closed for the next few months, or finishing that book you’ve been reading, or going to a concert for your favorite band, or staying up until the sunrise talking to someone you care about.  They can be big things, like wanting to finish a project or see a particular country or falling in love or helping other people.  Hell, they can even be petty.  Maybe there’s someone you want to prove wrong about you.  That’s enough to stick around for in my opinion.

To answer your actual question, the answer is neither, especially for the person who would find you.  That person will carry around that trauma for the rest of their lives.  They’ll feel heartbroken and guilty and wonder what they could have done differently to help you.  They’ll miss you.  There’s no way you can lessen that pain for them.  I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty; it’s just the truth of the situation, and I think it’s important for you to know that.

I dunno.  Like I said, I don’t really know what the right thing to say is.  But I really do care and hope that you’ll be okay.  I hope that you’ll give things another try.  I hope that I’ve helped you think about things differently at least a little bit.

[forthereaderinserts]

Oooo~ Is it time to make Dadkashi suffer but then boost him back up with fluff? I'm in. Can I get how he reacts/hcs about Y/N going missing on a mission in one of the other countrys or some island. Turns out something horrible went wrong with the mission and Y/N was stranded for months but survived in the wild. When they finally make their way back they have a few scars, but all in all made it out pretty fine and just wants to go home? I mostly wanna know how Kakashi copes and how he reacts.

I did this one after the Shino one to up the angst factor >:)

Severe depression CWs

Mentions of achoholism, drinking, and suicidal thoughts

If you or a loved one are struggling with any of these issues or thoughts please call a hotline and look for any available mental health services in your area

If there are none, look for a call or text center

Mental illness is no joke and should not be played off

If you are sensitive to these topics please ignore this post or contact one of the moderators and we can discuss a course of action

This is your final warning to turn away

~|~|~

Kakashi was finally ready. He has let go of what happened, everyone has healed, both mentally and physically, and he can let you go on a mission without being sent into a panic attack.

That's what he told himself 5 months ago. Before you left the village with a wide grin on your face, so very excited to get your own mission to a different country. Finally away from his protective grasp. He can still feel the warmth of your hug when he tries to sleep, it's the only thing keeping him even somewhat sane.

He had been put on temporary leave by Tsunade around two months ago. His behavior had spiralled out of control and he was deemed unfit to teach a class or go on missions. He wasn't the only one affected though. You're old team members were struggling to hold onto that last bit of hope, you're current team were taking less and less missions. It just didn't feel right without their fifth teammate.

Shino, your boyfriend, was absolutely heartbroken. He had felt such a connection with you, and even if you hadn't been dating long, he truly loved you. His mood was even reflected in his bugs behavior. They were slower and less active; they hardly ever cooperated.

Kakashi was definitely the most affected by it all. Though the search efforts never stopped completely, they had slowed down after no messages were received about your whereabouts. He had taken up drinking when Tsunade told him that the chances of you being found alive, if at all, were severely slim to none. He couldn't handle coming home to where you had shared so many memories. Your room still smelled like you, even after all this time.

He spent time at the bars to avoid going home, he had even considered moving to erase all traces of you from his life. But he figured you would be confused and upset by that when you got home, because you were coming home. You had to be...

By the sixth month, Kakashi was a shell of the man he once was. He never bothered wearing his mask, it only got in the way of the bottle, and was a nuisance when he suddenly had to throw up. His face was pale and gaunt, he hadn't been eating much, the most he consumed was strong liquor and instant ramen. He had severe bags under his eyes from lack of sleep and he moved so slow you would have no idea he was the copycat ninja, if it weren't for the greasy mop of silver hair. Speaking of, when was the last time he took a shower, or even just brushed and cut his hair.

All his friends had given up trying to talk him out of his depression. Each time they had tried, he yelled at them that they had no idea what it was like to loose a child. To have them in your life, just for them to be snatched away. Never to be seen again. They couldn't argue with him, they had no idea. All of their students were still there, sad, but still around and alive.

He had gotten to the point where, after the drinking stopped numbing him and just made him feel worse, he would stare blankly at a wall for hours. He had no idea what to do without you. You were his child, not related by blood, but he had the papers to prove it. He loved you more than anything, even life itself. Maybe... maybe if you were really worth more to him than life, he shouldn't be here...

No, no he has to stay alive for when you come back. You are fine! It's just, taking a little longer than expected... A lot longer than expected. 7 months longer than expected...

~|~

The last thing Kakashi expected today, was for Iruka, Gai, and his team to burst into his home. They had immediately recoiled from the rotten smell and stared pitifully at him with their noses covered. When he glared at them, they finally spoke. He detested their energy at first, but once their words sunk in, he could have sworn he moved faster than Minato-Sensei himself.

You were back! You were fucking back!

When he burst into your hospital room, he had followed your surprisingly strong chakra trail, he saw your team, Shino, and Tsunade by your side. They all looked up and made room for him, and he rushed to your side and collapsed holding your hand.

He could barely get a word out through his sobs. He didn't hear Tsunade tell him that you had barely sustained any injuries that hadn't already healed, that you had been kidnapped and slightly tortured for information on the leaf. He was so happy to have his baby back. When she saw he wasn't listening, Tsunade smiled softly at him and told him that you would be free to leave in about a weeks time.

An hour after the room had cleared was when you finally spoke up. Your voice was sore and raspy, but still strong.

"Hi dad..."

Those were the first words he had heard from you in almost eight months. He started sobbing again, barely registering you try to drag him higher into your bed. He readjusted himself and hugged you tightly. He had to know that you were really here. That he hadn't gone crazy or died in his sleep, and this was his heaven.

Not a word was spoken for a long time, nothing but faint "I love you"s and "I missed you so much".

~|~|~

National Suicide Hotline Number

1-800-273-8255