#angst angst angsty angst

[mysticalsoot]

he said he'd cure your ills (but he didn't and he never maybe will)

A/N: this one didn't end as sad as I intended. this was supposed to be entirely angst but I got distracted. i also can't stand to villianize Wilbur for too long before wanting to cry so yeah. it's not entirely angst, but still majorly angsty! if anyone wants a seperate one to continue this vers or the other, just lmk! I will happily write it.

TW// cheating mentions, swearing, mild manipulation, Wilbur is an asshole and honestly you shouldn't forgive someone who cheats BUT this is fiction and I am a sucker for Wilbur so that's a fault of me, mostly entirely angst, bittersweet ending, heights ummm I think that's it??

Words: 2.7k

Pairings: Cc!Wilbur x Reader

Pronouns: not mentioned, a few uses of y/n

Inspired by;  The Smiths – This Night Has Opened My Eyes

Fluff version here

masterlist

"Wilbur," You begin, voice trembling and caked in uncertainty, "Don't go. You can't."

"Why can't I? I have free will," Wilbur's tone is sharp like claws that slowly pick at the flesh around your heart, begging to rip it from your chest. And you're sure it will. His arms are flayed out, stretched out on either side of him. The same way they always are when he's angry. "Who's to stop me from leaving your pathetic excuse of a person?"

"You don't mean that.." Your voice gives out at the end, and you back up from him and into the wall. You want to run.

You want to scream.

You want to call him names.

Yell at him the way he's been doing to you.

Threaten him in the same ways, only worse and more tortuous than he could ever come up with.

But he's right.

You're pathetic, and so you curl up inside yourself, you freeze, and you die inside. You're rotting from the outside in. You're rotting, and isn't it his fault?

"I mean every word." His words come out slowly, it's calculated, the way he says it. It's like he really does mean to hurt you, that every word is a swing of the sword he's wielded for months. Slowly getting duller as each swing cuts deeper.

First, it was the distance; he stopped being as affectionate in public or at home. He no longer asked for it either, he just let you initiate it as if it was a chore he'd rather forget about for months on end. But you let it go, he was probably just tired!

And then it was the phone calls; his phone would ring and he would leave the room. He always said it was "work" stuff, but you knew the people he worked with and you were even friends with his manager, let alone his bandmates. But you let that slide too. Who knows, maybe it was a secret project! It's not that concerning..

The last straw was your friends. They were his as well, but they were just as much yours as they were his.

They were the ones that caught him. Up until this point you had been willingly oblivious, always pushing the gut feelings and the second thoughts as far away from you as possible and burying them six feet in the ground.

Wilbur was out during the day, he had gone to the beach that day (although he told you he went to the studio), to meet up with them. James was walking past the boardwalk that afternoon and he saw the tall man over by the water, out of the corner of his eye. He thought it was odd given the fact that Wil almost never went to the beach without you. So, he moved to a closer spot and hid far enough away that he wouldn't be noticed by his friend but close enough he could still see. It was deceptive and over the top, yes, but James was always one for theatrics.

He watched as Wilbur had gotten closer to the person he was with, holding their face the same way he watched him hold yours. He smiled at them the same way he smiled at you. But this person, they were the complete opposite of you and it made James' blood boil. He knew that you had no knowledge of this person because if you had known, he would have known. And he was in the dark, so you must be too.

And unfortunately, he was right. He went to the others first, the band, Alex, Tommy, Niki.. He covered all the bases for your closest friends and gathered them all together for dinner and game night at his place. And so, James told them everything, everything he saw or heard; the fact you probably didn't know.

They hatched a plan that night, after discussing all of the details, and their own suspicions. The plan was simple, they would stage an intervention. When worded like that, it sounds as if they pushed you into it. They didn't, the words they used were this; we found something out and we think you should know, but we have to tell you in person; and don't bring Wilbur.

It caught you off guard for sure and it filled your body with buzzing worry and nausea. But it subsided when you had gotten to the agreed apartment (Niki's), only to build again when you saw the expressions on their faces. Ones of grief, guilt, and pain.

They told you everything.

And then you went home (after plenty of comforting until you were semi-stable again), and you told Wilbur. You knew. There was no getting past you anymore. The secret was out.

And now you're here. He's making it out to be your fault and you so desperately want to believe it's not, but his arguments are more compelling and convincing than you thought.

"You, Y/N, have always been a nuisance. You're clingy, and possessive, you talk too much and you never know when to stop. It's always Wilbur this and Wilbur that. You never give me a break. You're overbearing, you're controlling. And I hate every fucking bit of your shit existence!" It hurts so bad to hear every word he says and know that he means it. The ache in your chest feels like a throbbing and if you didn't know better you would've assumed your heart had been ripped out and shredded over and over and over again, the hole in your chest then gushing blood from the half-assed job of heart surgery. All done by the sharpness of Wilbur's words.

God, you wished this was just a dream.

"If I'm such a nuisance, why have you stayed?" You ask, tears burning the skin of your red cheeks. The bags under your eyes are more prominent now than ever, it's the exhaustion from life combined with the stress of...this.

"Because I pitied you," He pauses, eyes narrowing before stepping forward, closer to you, "I never loved you."

You wish this was a dream, it has to be. He's not this cruel, it can't be him.

"What about the promises you made? Did those mean nothing to you?" You're begging him to spare your heart now, to not rip into it in the same way he ripped it from your chest. Your tone simply begs; please spare me, Wilbur, please.

"I never meant a word." He’s stern in the way he speaks, sure to lace his words with venomous hatred. "How do you not understand? I don't like you, nobody likes you. You are nothing to me." The words slice right through you, clean and quick which doesn't help the pain of his words any. It merely worsens it, how can someone who's told you he loves you, be so cruel? What did you do to deserve this?

"How can you not understand how your actions affect people, huh? What? Did you skip basic etiquette in school? Or are you just that much of an asshole?" You spit back, your anger now overruling any anxiety you hold in your body, the grief is now anger, and its an out of control flame.

“Well, I'm fucking sorry for trying to spare your emotions!"

"Oh wow, you care so much about me. Fuck you, William." He's stepped back and you can tell he's eyeing the door, planning his escape from the burning words that leave your lips. "You, are a poor excuse for a man..and a friend."

"If you can't take what you dish, leave." You let all emotion drain from your voice, and you stand tall. His mouth opens, anticipating to speak but nothing happens. He simply groans and walks out the front door.

And then he's gone.

----

You had spent the next year wishing you would eventually wake from the nightmare you lived. It never happened, you split off from Wilbur and hadn't heard from him since. And to help, you moved away from Brighton to London, and made sure to avoid any of his band's gigs. You still kept in contact with your friends, they always checked in and they would visit whenever they were in town. James stayed the closest, it seemed he had the most sympathy for you. They all did, but his extended further than the rest. You couldn't understand why.

He would stay at yours for a few days at a time, instead of the hour visits the rest would do. You enjoyed his company, and his kindness never failed to make you smile. It was nice to know someone had your back, even if your life prior to your move became so turbulent.

You never found out who the other person was, you didn't really care either. I mean for the most part you were perfectly okay with just not knowing, but you are human so a part of you was just a little bit curious. But you didn't waste your time looking, you simply let the theories run wild in your mind, never seeking the truth. It spared your heart, never looking.

You had run through the possibilities of how you could find out, but you really did not expect to find out when you went back to Brighton to visit family. You didn't want to go back by any means, it hurt too much, made your chest ache where his words had clawed out the flesh and your heart in one go. But you went, it hurt, but you went.

You were window shopping for the day, passing by the shops near the beach, and then you saw the spot James told you he found them. It was by the old tattered pier, by one of the poles.

You stopped there, and stared. It wasn't the most polite, sure, but you couldn't help yourself. Who cared if you clogged walking traffic for a moment or two?

You wondered what she had that you didn't, was it her looks? Was she smarter than you? Did she annoy him less, pay more attention to him? You couldn't quite figure it out, all you knew was thinking of the two of them shamelessly gush over each other in public, turned your stomach round and round like a carousel. You wanted to puke.

This is what hell is, isn't it? Your own mind torturing yourself with what ifs and ideas of what could have been. Or what you did wrong.

You went to walk away, move on with your life yet again, and you did but you quickly ran into another person.

“Sorry, sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going.” The words slur together into a single string of sound, and you quickly walk past them and down the sidewalk before even catching a glimpse of them.

-----

Unfortunately that isn't the last you saw of Wilbur and his new partner. This time there was a more personal interaction. Tommy had invited you out for a vlog he was filming, you hadn't been a guest in his vlogs lately and he “missed your humor”. What he forgot to mention was that Wilbur was invited too, although Tommy apologized profusely and told you he forgot he even asked his brother in the first place. You didn't mind it much, I mean it wasn't like you would get up and leave Tommy's vlog over something as petty as being around your ex. Even despite how shitty Wilbur was in the end.

For the most part you were able to avoid the man quite well. He was an hour late to Phil's place before leaving. Thankfully Phil let you take shotgun and once you four arrived at the agreed theme park you could easily hide away next to Phil as the two boys annoyed the shit out of each other. Tommy humming an able sisters song was involved. He got hit in the head. Phil did a lot of scolding during the drive.

Your plan worked out decently until it came down to the last ride, Tommy begged you to ride it with him and Wilbur-- he knew you had gone on it before and that you didn't find it very scary so you riding it with a terrified Wilbur seemed pretty comedic to Tom. You sitting there with a blank face while Wilbur and Tommy most likely screamed their heads off did seem quite entertaining to the kid.

You went in line first, ahead of the boys. Phil stayed behind holding everyones stuff that they couldn't take with them but Tommy managed to keep his camera to film. He was going between you and Wilbur and sticking it in either of you guys’ faces, trying to get the funny angles he loved to throw in.

“Tommy, what is it with you and putting cameras in your friends’ faces?” You cross your arms, a mischievous smile paintined on your features. The line ahead is a good amount of people long so you had plenty of time to goof around.

“It's funny!” Tommy lets out his usual wheeze like laugh and puts his camera away for now.

“You just like annoying us,” Wilbur adds, playfully rolling his eyes while he, himself smiles.

“Maybe!” Tommy stretches out the word and scoots to stand in front of you in the line, the people in front of you still not yet moving.

It took a good twenty minutes before the three of you were able to finally get through the line and into the ride, and once you did, you could see the anxiety fill both Tommy and Wilbur simply by how their faces went pale.

“You two okay?” Your gaze switches from Wilbur to Tommy and back to Tommy again.

“I’m fine.” Wilbur states, his voice wavering in an unsure manner you hadn't heard from him in ages.

“Tommy?”

“Also okay! As fine as ever!” Tommy’s back stiffens and he pulls out his camera to take some shots before the ride starts.

He doesn't get more than a few words in before the coaster car speeds up the incline ahead.

Both boys nervously laugh just before coaster speeds down, and they scream. You simply laugh in amusement as their faces churn into a fearful expression.

The pattern repeats throughout the rest of the ride, Wilbur and Tommy laughing and then screaming while you watch the two lose their minds. The boys' screams would get louder and more terrified whenever a twist would go upside down, or when the incline went straight down.

"Soo, how was it boys?" You tease the two of them, nudging both of them in the sides.

Wilbur's eyes go wide and he looks down to meet your eyes, "I never feared heights more." He earns a laugh from you and something twists in his gut, it's not a bad feeling, but he can't pinpoint what feeling it is.

You look to Tommy, "I can't believe this was my idea." A shiver runs down his spine and he shakes, and then runs to Phil the moment he comes into view. There Phil stands, bags and cameras, water bottles and candy in hand, holding his kids' stuff in true dad fashion.

Phil then hands out everyone's stuff to each respective person and he too asks how it was.

"Meh." is your answer.

"Terrifying." is Wilbur's answer.

"I've never regretted something more." is Tommy's answer.

Phil just laughs at everyone's answer, patting his son's on the back, before ruffling up your hair. His signs of affection.

"Hey, Wilbur- Y/n?" Phil's voice breaks his string of laughter, his smile still evident.

You both hum in response, both looking to him like little kids awaiting instructions.

"Can you two go take this extra stuff to the car while Tommy and I get stuff set up for the arcade?" The request is simple, and he doesn't mean any harm. But both you and Wil are anxious about this, surely silence will fill the air when the two of you are alone, but there's a voice in the back of your head that says it won't be as quiet.

Yet, the two of you agree and various bags and candy is stuffed in you guys' arms. Phil hands the keys to you, and Wilbur whines to him about how he's the most responsible one but Phil just laughs and shrugs it off.

You're a few feet away from the other two, "So, how's your year been?" Your question shatters the silence like a glass plate on concrete. It's abrupt, and it spooks Wilbur for a moment.

"Kinda shit, I guess." He shrugs and his voice is low and unsure and his eyes are fixated on the stone pathway beneath you.

"How's that girlfriend of yours?" You spare a glance back at him, since he's fallen behind you a bit. He sucks in a breath, body tensing.

"I'm not with her anymore." Wilbur's eyes gaze downwards, refusing to look at you. A part of you is sad for him, but another part of you is..happy? The feelings and thoughts are confusing, the conflicting ideas being entirely new to you.

"Oh." You don't say much more, instead you just let the silence take over for the rest of the walk.

It's only a few minutes before you're scrambling to unlock the car, and you haphazardly open the trunk, doing your best to not drop anything while you open it with your left hand.

"I'm sorry." Wilbur mumbles to you as he puts the last bag he was holding in the trunk.

"You are?" You ask, leaning up against the back of the car after you shut it closed. Your head tilts to the side as you look at him and you cross your arms over your chest. He doesn't look to you.

"Yeah," He nods, and then he swallows nervously.

"What you did wasn't right. You should've communicated with me, Wil." You stand up straight, arms falling to either side of you and you take a couple steps towards him.

He doesn't look up, "Man, do I know that."

You reach up to hold his face, to bring his gaze to meet yours. "You should have told me what was wrong, whatever was wrong. You still haven't told me."

"There was..a lot. I don't think you'd want to hear it all right now. In a fucking theme park parking lot at that." A small laugh leaves his chest and you smile slightly at the action.

"Maybe not today, but someday?"

"Yeah, yeah, someday."

The two of you leave it at that, and head back to meet Phil and Tommy. The four of you spend the rest of your day without cameras or arguments, you simply hang out and eat stupid amounts of candy and play every game in the arcade with the only goal of beating the high scores until you started to get tired. You were sitting at a nearby table, next to Wilbur with your head against his shoulder.

"Could we ever make up?" He cautiously lets an arm rest over your shoulders, you graciously take the touch, reaching your left hand up to intertwine your fingers with his.

"Maybe." You yawn, "Just maybe."

So you nuzzle further into him, and he sighs. He's happy, you're happy, even if the day was bittersweet, there's still hope.

He wasn't a bad person, just a person who did a really shit thing.

tags; @at0micc0la (since you reblogged the first vers lmao)

[lorehappy83]

"Grant me your wrath, my dear. For I've become unworthy of your forgiveness"

[creativepromptsforwriting]

The angstiest masterpost

angsty.

Angsty family/platonic dialogue

Angsty question prompts #1

Angsty question prompts #2

Angsty question prompts #3

Angsty/fighting dialogue

Concerned/angsty question prompts 

Angsty starters

Angst prompts

Angsty sentence starters #1

Angsty sentence starters #2

Angsty sentence starters #3

Angsty sentence starters #4

Leaving dialogue

Reunion dialogue reactions

Unwilling goodbye + love confession prompts

Trying to make them stay dialogue

Sacrificing dialogue

Amnesia prompts

Amnesia dialogue

Bad luck prompts

Lover being hurt prompts

Break-up dialogue #1

Break-up dialogue #2

Unwanted attention dialogue

Unrequited love dialogue

Drama starting points

Conflict for couples #1

Conflict for couples #2

Conflict for couples #3

Betrayal dialogue

Hiding from horror dialogue

Finding out the truth dialogue

"I'm sorry…" apology starters

Saying I'm sorry…

Apologizing for emotional neglect

Talking it out ideas

Keeping loved ones apart

Ending an argument

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[urfriendlywriter]

20 angsty romance prompts part 2

(feel free to use <33 tag me when yall writeeee)

crying in your lover's arms

^ face buried in their chest, while their heart breaks at your every sob :(

"i wish i loved you less." but it is spat at the other person angrily, immediately being regretted after the words leave their mouth.

watching them cry and not knowing what to do (ouch-)

"why do you love me when you know i can't- shouldn't love you back?"

"you messed me up, you fcked me over and what- how dare i? how dare fckn you!"

"i am sorry. i am so so.. so.. sorry. please.. let me go."

"don't you dare do this to me- No! No, no, no, no- nono, hey, please!!"

"... why can't.. anybody see--that... I'm tired?... " (if written write, this wud traumatize me)

"I'm done waiting for you, [name]."

them literally on their knees, "please, please--just please trust me! Why is it so hard for you to believe me once?"

^ "how many times do i have to get hurt by trusting you!!?"

"i am not sorry that i don't love you. I'm sorry that you don't love yourself."

"i loved you, believe me. i did. then you turned into someone else, someone... scary."

"WHY DO YOU HAVE TO KEEP HURTING ME? why--why am i the one.. always losing everything..?"

"listen to me-" "No, no!" "my dear, i swear, that isn't what i meant." "oh yeah? i don't think so. you were pretty loud and clear back there."

"so.. you're just going to.. give up on me." "that is NOT what i meant-" "you're not willing to fight for me either. i think it's pretty clear, [name]."

hands trembling while holding their pale, bloodied face, "k-keep your eyes open, for fucks sake! PLEASE-please please, talk to me."

"promise me you'll be okay, and that you'll keep living. moving on, even without me." "only if you do the same." (this happened irl yall)

"you saved me then killed me all over again."

[hoonatic]

emergency contact | park sunghoon x reader

prompt: weeks after your breakup, sunghoon finds out that he’s still your emergency contact. pairing: non-idol sunghoon x implied female reader genre: angst with hopeful/happy? ending; second chance romance??; exes to lovers??? word count: 2800 note: i’ve had a cute fic idea that i wanted to write forever…but this is not it. the sad demons have visited me once again. hope y’all enjoy nevertheless and any feedback is much appreciated <3

sunghoon was miserable. 

it had been three weeks, five days, two hours, and thirty-two minutes since the two of you had gone no contact.

he wished he could say he was happy to be single, that he was no longer “locked down” and “whipped” as his friends had always called him. but the so-called “freedom” felt like hell since it meant losing you.

at first, he kept telling himself that time would heal the pain. “it’s natural,” he had repeated like a mantra, “she was your best friend and lover for years.” but no, this heartbreak was inhumane. his desire to see you, apologize endlessly, and spend days holding you until you could feel every ounce of his love was gnawing at his soul. if anything, it got worse by the minute.

he had tried so hard to balance work and the rest of his life, using the excuse several times that he was securing this future for your shared life with him. that one day, you’d be able to reap the rewards of his efforts and live comfortably together without stress.

but what was the use of all of that now? the future he had worked so hard to create was ripped out from his hands by no one other than himself. 

you had accused him of being too busy for you. dates canceled at the last minute, a birthday forgotten, and all the texts left on read had built up to the argument that ended it all. he was always good at fighting, a little too good. he had retorted that you weren’t being supportive, and he was never one to sugarcoat his words. his tongue was sharp, and he did nothing to dull its blade.

but there wasn’t too much yelling on your part, and he thought that that hurt more. he wanted you to fight back, to stand your ground because he knew deep down that he was being the asshole. his toxic thought was that by you fighting back, this meant that you were still fighting for your relationship. but instead, you just stared with silent tears and a blank expression. seeing the indifference in eyes that had previously held so much love was a sight that would stay with him forever. so, in fear of you leaving, he ran instead.

he was a coward, leaving your shared home to run back to the apartment he had still technically owned but hadn’t lived in for more than a year. he locked himself away for a few days, but the realization that you hadn’t attempted to contact him burned more than he could put into words. you were done with him. he had hurt you, had the audacity to be the one to run, and now he had lost you.

he had even run from his job. he couldn’t stand to walk into the same building he stayed in when he forgot dates with you. his coworkers wouldn’t stop asking what happened to him, why he looked so rough. he even found an empty container that had once held lunch you made for him. but his final straw was getting promoted. his first instinct was to call you, but he remembered the sad truth before he could dial. any ounce of pride was washed away with shame in that moment. that same day, he quit without notice.

so there he was: miserable, alone, and unemployed with nothing left to run from but memories. he had spent the last week going through his phone and saving your pictures together in a locked album. he wouldn’t dare delete them, but he couldn’t stomach looking at you either.

he wished he could get drunk and sleep away the pain. he had tried, he definitely did - but that night, he dreamt of you. you were smiling at first, eyes ever full of love. you were speaking, yet he couldn’t hear you. but he could see how your words started to gradually look sadder, and slowly, tears started to fall as your grin dropped. he woke up that next morning crying with the conclusion that he would have to face this heartbreak sober.

but another day of scrolling through albums had stopped abruptly when he saw the notification that changed everything.

SOS i called emergency services from this approximate location after my watch detected a hard fall. you are receiving this message because i have you listed as my emergency contact.

sunghoon had to remind himself to breathe.

he had purchased that watch for you as a “just because” present months ago. you had complained of bad sleep and he wanted you to use it as a way to track your slumber. he hated seeing you tired. he knew that the watch had a fall detection function, but it had never been used before.

his heart was in his stomach as he went to his favorite contacts page and selected your name for the first time in weeks.

“please,” he begged, all notion of running away from you leaving his brain, “pick up please.”

but you just weren’t answering. so he tried again and again and again.

for a moment while the line attempted to connect, he wondered if this was how he had made you feel for months - desperate for a sliver of attention from him. but instead, he was desperate for a sign of life.

finally, after about two minutes of trying to reach you, his body moved of its own accord. before he knew it, his car keys were in his hands and he was out the door.

the car ride there might have been the worst part. the speed at which he drove at almost defied the laws of physics. other drivers were cursing at him but he wasn’t registering anything except the thought of your safety. he just needed to get to you.

why did he run? why didn’t he try to talk it out? if he was so afraid of losing you, why did he do the one thing that would guarantee that? he should have been there like he promised to be from the beginning. you would have been safe with him.

when he pulled up to the house you had shared for so long, he suddenly felt the world slow down. why were emergency services there? you should’ve canceled them by now.

he had to double park as the ambulance was blocking the driveway. why were they here?

the emts and police had arrived at the same time as him, which both increased his anxiety and soothed him. for one, that meant he had been quick enough. but why did you need them?

“sir, do you know–” an officer had approached him as he stumbled to the front door. all he could understand was your name. why were they asking if he knew you? of course he knew you. you, the love of his life. you, his soulmate by every meaning of the word. you were you. and you were safe.

as if sensing his distress, he felt an emt worker pull him to the side as the same officer prepared to break down the door. seeing this, sunghoon finally returned to his senses.

“w-wait! sorry, i have a key.” sunghoon’s hands were shaking. the only way that door had unlocked was by pure muscle memory because he didn’t understand what he was doing at all.

as soon as the door opened, sunghoon tried to step in. finally, he was close to you. 

the officer, however, pulled him back.

“sir, you should wait here. we need to make an initial search before you can go in.”

“what, why? if she’s in there, i want to see–”

“sir, it’s just in case we find something we wouldn’t want you to see.”

all of sunghoon’s hesitation and fear went out the window at those words. his body flew automatically as he ran inside.

he screamed your name as he rushed in, ignoring the yells of the police officers who followed him in. as it had been for almost four weeks, his only thought was you. he just needed you.

he checked the ground floor first, eyes scanning the open space in less than a second as his body avoided an officer trying to grab him. sunghoon then moved to the staircase, long legs prepared to skip steps to reach you. then suddenly, he heard the voice his ears had been longing for,

“sunghoon?!”

his head shot up. there you were, finally. he saw the sadness, confusion, and fear all flash your face as you registered the emergency workers behind him. you looked exhausted and unruly, but he had never felt more in love.

he didn’t even remember climbing the steps, but suddenly he was at the top of the staircase and you were in his arms. 

you could feel him trembling as he held you. you took his face into your hands to look at him, “sunghoon? what’s wrong? why are you here? is it my parents? is someone hurt?” you watched as his mouth opened but no words came out. after a few seconds, one of the officers spoke from the bottom of the steps,

“ma’am, we received an alert from your device that a hard fall had occurred.”

suddenly, you understood everything. taking sunghoon’s hand gently, you led him down the stairs, afraid he’d fall from shock. he followed you silently, but his grip tightened seemingly with every step.

that’s when you noticed your shattered watch on the third step.

you let sunghoon go and you could hear his deep breath when you did. you picked up the watch and offered it up to the officer as an explanation, “i’m sorry officer, it looks like there’s been a misunderstanding…”

the officer nodded in understanding, and dismissed the emts, “got it, ma’am. we will still need a formal report for our records since this was registered as an emergency call.” he motioned to your couch as he took out a pen and paper.

you reached for sunghoon’s hand once more and led him to sit with you. in the moment, you knew he needed you more than you would ever understand. so, as you explained to the officer, you held his trembling hand, rubbing soothing circles with your thumb.

“i was doing laundry here downstairs and had taken off my watch to prevent it from getting wet,” you recounted, “i put it on top of the basket of clothes that i took upstairs. i remember tripping a little going up the stairs - i didn’t fall, but that must’ve been when the watch fell."

"what about your phone, where is it? i'm sure your boyfriend must've tried to call you."

sunghoon slowly nodded at that, turning to look at you. you smiled sheepishly, "i left it upstairs and it was on silent while i folded the clothes. i’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”

after finishing up your statement, the remaining officer prepared to leave. as he walked out the door, he gave a soft smile to the both of you,

“glad to see it was a false alarm, ma’am. you had this gentleman quite worried - ran so fast i couldn’t even grab him!” the officer laughed, “you two have a nice day now! sorry about your watch, though!”

after he shut your door, the silence enveloped your home. you closed your eyes and breathed deeply to prepare to speak to your ex-boyfriend. but as soon as you opened them, sunghoon started to cry softly.

he hugged you tighter than he ever had, and soon enough, his face was buried in your neck. his cries were silent, but you could feel his body shaking as his tears soaked your shirt.

“sunghoon…” you started, stroking his back, “i’m sorry i worried you, honey.”

you knew you shouldn’t be calling your ex pet names, especially an ex that had run from you without properly ending the relationship. but your heart still held so much love for him that it flowed out naturally. and you knew he was crying from more than just worry, so you doubt he minded at all in the moment.

his crying slowed down as his arms took to loosely wrapping around your waist instead. he pulled away from your neck to rest his forehead on yours. from this angle, you could see his swollen eyes and red nose - a sight so rare in all the years you had dated. he was never a crier after all.

but memories of several late-night conversations rushed your mind. he always said his number one fear was your death, and now you could see he had never lied about that.

he could see your mind go elsewhere so he called your name softly, “don’t say you’re sorry. i’m so happy, these are relieved tears. and i just really, really missed you.” he croaked out. you knew he had more to say, so you just nodded, letting him go on.

“and i’m sorry, baby. for everything. i shouldn’t have run, i shouldn’t have tried to egg you on to fight me back. i shouldn’t have even fought anything you said that night. you were right. i didn’t prioritize you. in my attempt to secure you for life, i let you go instead. i’m so sorry, i never wanted to break up.” he was rambling in earnest now, afraid that no words would make you take him back.

you listened quietly as he went on for a few minutes after that, hand continuing to rub his back, “i know honey, i know.”

“baby, you need to understand that i almost died thinking you almost died today,” you could’ve laughed at how dramatically he spoke, “i couldn’t breathe right thinking that our last conversation could’ve been an argument. that you wouldn't have ever known just how deeply i love you and need you. i have so much regret for how i treated you, but if you’d give me the chance, i have all the time in the world to make it up to you…let’s go on that vacation i promised you. we can leave tomorrow if you’d like.” he smiled hopefully at you.

“hoon,” his heart soared at the use of his beloved nickname, “what do you mean? don’t you have work? can you really leave with such short notice?”

“i quit my job.”

“excuse me?”

“no job that made me work that much is worth it. i’ll find one with better work-life balance…after our vacation. if that’s what you still want of course…” he spoke more quietly, as if afraid of rejection.

you sighed. you really should be realistic with this - you two had been broken up for a few weeks at that point. you knew the love was still there, but was this a good decision?

while there was still some hesitation on your part, you couldn't help but notice how gingerly he held you. his arms were still around your waist loosely, yet there was something desperate about their hold. you knew he was holding back from hurting you - you could tell how tightly he wanted to hug you.

he was so shaken up at the idea of you being hurt that he rushed over there despite the two of you not being on speaking terms. for someone who had trouble communicating how he felt sometimes, you knew his actions spoke louder than words. he always acted brave, but there was so much he feared. and you knew losing you was always at the top of this list.

you could also feel how he was simply soaking in the sight of your face. his eyes were shy, yet determined. he wasn't going to risk missing another second of staring at you. a part of you grew conscious, but you knew he was just taking in what he had missed for weeks.

“what about…” you started and almost giggled at how he perked up, “we take it slow - another two weeks or so to talk everything out and relax? to get us to a good place again before you hold me hostage in some foreign country?”

sunghoon smiled softly, kissing your forehead. you leaned in naturally to his warmth, to his touch that you missed so much. “that sounds like a great idea, love.” he spoke, “we’ll get you a new watch too. and i’ll do all the itinerary planning and packing whenever you’re ready, okay? i love you.”

“okay. and i love you too. can��t wait to enjoy your unemployment with you for now!”

one smile and nod from you had him taking you into his arms once more, relishing in your being. he was back where he belonged. he had experienced the scariest reminder ever that he needed you, and sunghoon was never letting you go now.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

G̴̩͍͆͆̈́e̵̹̣͆t̷̬̋ ̸̻̮̎̒ĭ̸̏̃n̵͙̋͐ ̸̛̳̃t̶̪̣̅ḣ̸̳̇͜è̵̠̲͖̔̑ ̶̢̹̖͗͐̀Wa̵̬̞͝ṫ̴̩̣̣e̶͉̲̯͂̏̎r̴̉

It was a simple mission. Damian was working with Father to confirm the existence of a Lazarus Pit below Gotham, as Ra's Al Ghul speculated. And they had found it, deep in the caves below Gotham. A Pit the size of an Olympic sized swimming pool, bubbling and steaming. He'd only looked away for a moment.

"Kin-slayer."

Standing waist deep in the water stood Damian's reflection. The hair might be white, and the eyes glowing with the waters, but it was his face. But not his face alone.

Danyal's ghost glared at him. "Get in the water."

Father threw a batarang at him, but the metal flew straight through his head like it was air. Danyal didn't even glance at him, his eyes fixed on Damian. "Get in the water," he ordered again. He stepped closer to the shore and the green water sloshed up the bank higher than it was before. "Or I'll raise the tide so high, all of Gotham will die. So get in the water."

Damian's heart jumped into throat. "Wait-"

"Get in the water."

Father shoved Damian behind him, as if it would protect him, as if he could stop Danyal. "Stop this, please-" If he could just explain-

Another step and the waters surged forward, nearly touching Father's boots. "I'll make whirlpools so profound, your entire family will drown," he promised.

"NO!" Not his brother, his kind brother-

"THEN GET IN THE WATER!" Danyal snarled, revealing monstrously sharp teeth and a black tongue from Damian's poison. "G̴̩͍͆͆̈́e̵̹̣͆t̷̬̋ ̸̻̮̎̒ĭ̸̟̰͙̏̃n̵͙̝̟̋͐ ̸̛̳̃t̶̪̣̅ḣ̸̳̇͜è̵̠̲͖̔̑ ̶̢̹̖͗͐̀w̵̜͍̤̌a̵̬̞͝ṫ̴̩̣̣e̶͉̲̯͂̏̎r̴̉͜!̷̡͔́̀̽" He lunged and Father pushed them back down the passage they'd come. "Don't mistake this for a bluff, brother. You've lived more than enough. Just get in the water." Damian swallowed, throat dry. Was this Danyal's revenge? Did he finally have to face what he had done?

"Robin, who is this?" Father snapped, trying to keep retreating down the cave. But Damian wouldn't let him; the waters, and Danyal with them, would only follow.

Danyal looked between them, scowling. "G̴̩͍͆͆̈́e̵̹̣͆t̷̬̋ ̸̻̮̎̒ĭ̸̟̰͙̏̃n̵͙̝̟̋͐ ̸̛̳̃t̶̪̣̅ḣ̸̳̇͜è̵̠̲͖̔̑ ̶̢̹̖͗͐̀w̵̜͍̤̌a̵̬̞͝ṫ̴̩̣̣e̶͉̲̯͂̏̎r̴̉͜!̷̡͔́̀̽" he snapped again. "I'll take your father and gouge out his eyes, unless you want to stop being a coward and choose to die. Now... get in the water."

[satoruxx]

you fiddle with your nails as you walk home at tooru's side, the sounds of mattsun, makki, and iwa bickering further up ahead cutting through the empty streets. you’re uncharacteristically nervous, because god knows you’ve never done something like this before—but you steel yourself because it’s worth it for him.

your feelings for oikawa tooru are all consuming—strong and deep and intense. they’ve been brewing for well over two years now, nourished by the increased amount of time you’ve spent with him. they overwhelm you, washing over your being with an intensity you’ve never felt before, and they drive you to stick by his side for as long as you can—desperate and aching for the boy who puts the stars in your sky.

you know that timing is important because tooru is nothing if not driven—singularly focused on the sport that gives him the air he needs to breathe. so you wait until well after his match with karasuno, giving your all to support him and the rest of the team because volleyball has become important to you after spending so much time with them. you give it time, wait until after the team has taken the time to lament over their missed chance, and after all the third years are ready to move on to the next phase of their lives, before you finally decide to spill your guts to him.

tooru stares ahead as he’s walking, pensive and unsmiling, and you’re dying to know what’s going on in his head. his eyes are bright, a contrast to his expression, and there’s a resolute glint in his irises that has you feeling oddly shaken. when you reach his house, the rest of the group waves back at him before continuing on, and you realize this is your chance.

so, dangerously, you put your heart on the line.

you tell him everything you've ever thought about him—how you admire his drive and his passion, how you have looked up to him for years and years. how you have never felt so deeply for someone before knowing him. it comes out in a rushed ramble of words, all those nights of practicing in the mirror doing nothing for you in the actual moment. you stumble a few times, your face getting warmer with every word, and yet as each sentence falls forth you feel a weight lift from your shoulders—the flesh of your lungs clatter against your ribs, anxious and eager.

tooru inhales, gaze darting between your eyes and then flitting downwards. even in the dark of the night, you can see the pinkish hue crawling up his neck, can see the way he fidgets with his own fingers. he stares at you, lips parted as a wide array of emotions flit over his handsome features—they finally settle into a strange combination of apologetic and resigned.

and then he tells you no.

he tells you that volleyball will always take precedence, that he has already mapped out his future, which is too far away from you. he tells you about argentina and how his mind is made up. he tells you that he's flattered, that he's glad you're friends but that's all he can do right now.

“i'm sorry,” he says with a grimace. he studiously avoids looking at you, but you can't stop staring at him—your stomach sinks as he turns to head inside.

it takes you months to muster up the courage to tell him. it takes him two minutes to say no to you.

the rejection stings in a way that is unfamiliar, and you take a shaky breath as you walk down the street to catch up with the others.

the humiliation makes itself known in the form of a painful lump in your throat—unmoving and heavy. when you glance up you see that the third years have hung back, waiting for you. makki is wearing a knowing grin, but it falters when he sees your expression. mattsun, ever observant, seems to immediately understand, and he wordlessly slings an arm over your shoulder.

all you can do is awkwardly chuckle, knowing that it sounds weak and throaty as you shake your head. “i feel stupid,” you admit, voice wobbling as heat burns through your skin—unpleasant and unwelcome.

“you're not stupid,” makki mutters, hands shoved deep in his pockets as his lips slant regretfully. you stare at the ground, nodding slowly under the weight of mattsun's arm. your lungs ache, and you know that if you open your mouth, you will lose it entirely. so all you can manage to do is look up at iwa with glassy eyes and trembling lips and a rueful smile that probably makes you look as pathetic as you feel.

you don't notice the way his fists are clenched at his sides, nails digging indents into his palms. he grits his teeth, gaze flitting to oikawa's house in the background, but he doesn't say anything.

none of them speak as they walk you home, and you try your best to keep the sniffles to a minimum, too embarrassed to look at them.

you've never felt pain like this before, and it's hard to get over it because everything reminds you of tooru. it's like someone has taken a knife and carved into your ribcage, grasping your heart before taking it out crushing it between bloodied fingers. but even despite the gaping hole in your chest you know that there are expectations to be met, things to be done.

that's the strange thing about your silly unrequited love—it hurts and hurts and hurts some more until it stops one day before you can realize it. even though your chest is still bleeding you go on with life—you go to university, you get a job, you pay bills. you get up in the morning and brush your hair and drink water and tie your shoes until the wound closes itself up. you start smiling a little wider and laughing a little freer until oikawa tooru is nothing more than an old name.

and of course there are instances where you are reminded of him and what could've been, whether it's seeing milk bread in a supermarket or passing by children hitting a volleyball over a net out in the sun. you know very well that your friends are occasionally still in contact with their old captain, not that this bothers you. after all, mattsun, makki, and iwa were very careful not to bring him up around you, which you're grateful for. so even hearing the name in passing becomes easier.

it is difficult until it isn't anymore.

you've all but forgotten him now, after years and years and years—nothing more than a distant memory.

so imagine the sinking feeling of dread pooling in your stomach when you walk into the restaurant on makki's birthday and see oikawa tooru sitting at the bar, drink in hand. his eyes are alight as he laughs at whatever conversation he's joined, dark hair falling into his eyes messily.

one step forward, ten steps back.

for a second you can't help but stare, breath stolen from your lungs because it feels like the knife is back and twisting itself into your flesh all over again. there is a panic rising in your throat, suffocating and overwhelming and jarring.

tooru lifts his glass to his lips, hiding his grin as his gaze lazily travels over the expanse of the room.

another surge of panic. the familiar sting of humiliation.

he pauses as he's about to take a sip, brown eyes widening when they land on you, and you see the sharp inhale he takes. his stare doesn't waver, too consumed by shock to look away.

and yet that's all you can do—tear your eyes away because you're different now and it's long gone and you know there is no point in going down that rabbit hole again.

it was a lifetime ago—it's done now.

but you will never know how long tooru thought of you after that night back in high school. you will never know that he felt sick to his stomach when he saw the way your face fell at his rejection. you will never know that he bit his tongue so hard it bled as he watched you walk away from him. you will never know that he spent countless nights in argentina wondering what you were up to and how you were. you will never know that sacrificing you for his beloved sport was the hardest thing he's ever done.

so imagine the sinking feeling of dread tooru feels when he sees the way your eyes light up as you find your way over to iwa's side.

@teddybeartoji this is for you mickey ily hehehehehe

[novelbear]

a dialogue list for angry love confessions

prompt list by @novelbear | very slight cw for cursing!

"if you can't figure it out by now, then i don't have anything else to tell you."

"i thought that if i did all of this and came all this way, it would finally click for you."

"come back to me when you figure it out."

"i am done. i'm done waiting for you."

"i'm in love with you, you dumbass."

"what the hell did you think i meant by that?"

"i've been stupid enough to keep chasing after you."

"you knew. you knew i loved you and took full advantage of the fact that i'd do anything for you. and i knew that. i just kept at it hoping that one day you'd value me just as much."

"i've been following you around like a lost puppy since the day we met, yet you couldn't see?"

"i dropped everything to be with you! everything!"

"why do i keep doing this to myself..."

"i'm not losing the one person i love because of some stupid shit."

"is that what you wanted to hear? are you happy?"

"what do you think i've been doing this for?"

"i had thought all of this would be so different for us."

"don't you want the same?"

"god, how blind can you be?"

"open your eyes!"

"i've wasted years of my life chasing after someone who couldn't give a fuck about me..."

[dclovesdanny]

Dead Serious

4/4

Danny had made peace with the fact he did not have a soulmate. He had! After several years of no response to the countless drawings and writing notes on his skin, he had grown resigned to the fact that he was part of the 5% who did not have soulmates. He was fine with that.

(Dash would tease him about how no one would ever love him, adding salt to an already irritated wound. His parents were soulmates, and he remembered when he was drawing on his father’s arms and watching as it appeared on his mother’s. Jazz had been drawing and writing to her soulmate for years. Her soulmates name was Jason, and she always talked about how he was with her. She was one of the few people who comforted him when he stopped drawing or writing to soulmate. )

Damien taught at an early age that there was no use for soulmates. They were only distractions. He knew grandfather had no soulmate, and his mother had never responded to her own. He never responded to the drawings on his arms notes the notes in English on his (and he didn’t try harder just because he wanted to read his soulmate writing that would be ridiculous.)

Damien never told his family about having a soulmate. Even as he slowly got used to the differences between them and slowly learned how his grandfather was he could never bring himself to respond to the slowly lessening drawings and messages.(He couldn’t bring himself to respond because deep down he knew he didn’t deserve a soulmate. He was a monster, a demon. He didn’t deserve it.)

Danny stopped trying so desperately to contact his soulmate at age 11(the age he held his sister as she cried, her soulmate’s last message scribbled in desperate frantic writing on her arm. He never resented his parents so much when they didn’t even leave the lab for two days, not paying any mind to their sobbing child on the floor above them.)(it was the first time he didn’t envy having a soulmate.)

He was fourteen when he started drawing on his arms again.(it was shaky, much more than the older drawings, but even if he didn’t have a soulmate, he wanted to leave them a mark, just in case, the same way Jazz wrote quotes from different books on her arms.)

(When he found out Vlad didn’t have a soulmate, he refused to acknowledge another similarity they shared. He refused to think about how Vlad’s desperation made Danny think of his own desperate writing for his soulmate. Soulmates were a topic he never spoke of, and Vlad must have known, must have found out about how Danny didn’t have one, but he never commented on it. (It was the only boundary that was never crossed.))

(Damian wasn’t disappointed when his soulmate stopped writing to him. he didn’t trace over his arms, wishing that he had the confidence to write back. He didn’t spend hours wondering if his soulmate was gone without knowing Damian had seen him. He didn’t trace over the drawings his soulmate made with awe after four years of silence.)

Damian always covered up, so he was the only one who noticed when his soulmate started writing to him again. Never sentences never notes like they were before, but shaky drawings appeared on his skin. They were less detailed than before, almost shaky, as if the person drawing them couldn’t hold a pencil, steady, but they were real. Damian never said a word.

It was October 15 when Damien saw something on his arms that made his blood go cold. A message that he read over and over while commandeering the plane and ignoring the rest of his family yelling for him to explain himself. He desperately calibrated the jet while staring at the words, praying to a God he did not believe in that he would not be too late.(Unaware that Todd was following going in the same direction with the similar message written on his arm from a girl that Jason had deemed too good for him.)

Dear soulmate, even if you aren’t there. Everyone in Casper high is writing on their arms and I might as well try to warn someone. I am from Amity Park, Illinois, and we are under attack. The GIW have cut all outside communication. We are currently hiding in Casper high school, barricading the entrances, but it will not last long.

According to the government, we are not legally sentient or human. The agents outside want to dissect us, citing that we are scum. I don’t want to see my classmates die at the hands of my parents. I don’t want to see my friends and my sister die.

I don’t know if you are there, or if I really don’t have a soulmate, but I don’t want to die (fully) without leaving some sort of note.

My name is Danny. I love you. I’m sorry.

[kringle-c]

"It's only-"

[nkogneatho]

This is a PSA for all the writers who exclusively write only fluff and angst:

we love you. we still read your fics. no we don't care if it doesn't have smut in it. it is still valid and it is beautiful. thank you for existing. have a good day.

[smutinlove]

random jason todd headcanons

•jason is so touch starved and he's scared to touch you himself. my pookie bear just wants to be hugged and loved <3

•he isn't clingy. but when he's drunk, that's a whole different story. like that man with grab you by your waist, hold your hand, and take you to pound town

•he'll randomly get drunk and text you, "I love you. I need you. 'wanna hold you so bad and touch you" and then twenty minutes later, dick will text you a picture of jason half-passed out on his bed, saying, "come get your man, bitch."

•before every mission or patrol, he'll kiss you and say some corny shit like, "I love you to the moon."

•i feel like he would definitely pop a hip randomly. and he looks hot.

•this man is THE leader of the sassy man apocalypse.

•he's so traumatized and avoids talking about it. like baby, we love you. us jason todd girlies are gonna go to war for him and he's all: no one loves me... I LOVE YOU

i would kill for jason todd

[hinamie]

all i have left

[urfriendlywriter]

How to write angst ?

@urfriendlywriter | req by @everynowandthenihaveacrisis @aidyaiden :)

know your character. from their deepest fears to what they cherish the most. know your deepest fear, ask yourself how you will react and feel at that moment. "oh shit, if this happened to me I'll lose my mind" what's that type of scenario for you? write it. :)

decide on the type of angst you are going for!

major, minor, physical, emotional, paranormal, spiritual, verbal, abusive, quarrel, misunderstanding, etc.

and then, decide on--what reaction you can take out of your character by doing what to them.

are they gonna be, held at a gunpoint to give something up? or have their soul wrecked by whom they thought were close to them? or is it going be horror, or etctec, decide on it.

moving on to actually writing it-

Tip 1 - Use sensory details.

her eyes brimmed with tears

his chest heaved

pain clawed at his heart, as his face twisted with hurt

his scream pierced my heart

her lips quivered

she dug her nails into her palms (to distract herself, to stop it from shaking, etc)

show what is happening to ur MC, instead of telling it.

Tip 2 - how to actually write it.

If they're panicking, make them notice too many things at once, show every detail that they're seeing, feeling, from touch, to that burning sensation on their eyes, the blood on the ground, that dryness of their throat, the buzzing in their head and their parted lips unable to trust their own sight, and--and, boom! have them register that they're really really in trouble. and that they've to act fast.

use short, very minimal type of writing for this. make it long, but not long enough that it feels like it's being dragged.

the readers should hold themselves back from skimming the page out of curiousity, they should be in their toes to find out what happens next.

what does your MC do in times of panic? do they chant calm down to themselves, do they get angry, or start crying.. or?? what makes your character genuinely feel an emotion so hard that they'll burst?

there's always something, someone that'll always give them love and easily can be that something or someone to take it away. yk.

Tip 3 - crying.

what is close to your character that u can deprive them of? will it make them cry? beg for it?

what will make ur character cry so hard, that their scream fills everyone's ear, stays in their minds like ghosts and always haunts them?

make a character who never cries, burst out with tears.

while writing crying, focus on the 5 senses, one after the other.

focus it on their breath, make them run out of breath, gasp for air, feel like they're being choked, cry so scrutinizingly. it shud punch the reader's gut.

have them replay what had just happened over and over again in their head

best books and writing styles (for angst) to analyse and learn from (in my opinion);

3rd book in the AGGTM series (yk it hit hard like a truck. it got me depressed in bed the entire time lmao)

Five Survive by Holly Jackson. The moments of red outside of the truck, and moments leading to it.

there's this book called " Warm by @untalentedwriter127 " in wattpad. the author served angst for breakfast, lunch anddd dinner.

and if there's more angsty ones, drop em in the comments! :)

Hope this helps, tag me when yall write a masterpiece! ;)

[nerdynuala]

Angsty hug

[srfiv]

i'm the dour in the dowry, the bats in your belfry, and i am your boyfriend.