#my anxiety was making me suicidal and i might not have tried to get help(like I haven't been for 10years) if i didn't want SO BADLY to be | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grapejuicestyless · 7 months

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Our Last Dance

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Y/n is Harry’s childhood best friend and the only person he’s been able to hang onto as his popularity grew. Y/n wasn’t as successful in life, but she wants to be able to do something nice for Harry one last time.(inspired by Aftersun…Warning: there is a lot of detail about vomit in this if that bothers you and depression/suicide.)

“It’s not much, but it’s right by the beach so I thought it might be nice.” I’ve known Harry for over two decades. He’s been my best friend since I was seven, I know everything there is to know about him. I know who he is, yet I still can’t help but feel ashamed when we stumble into the dusty hotel room, one large king sized bed sat in the center of the room and a balcony overlooking the blue oceans of Italy and an old handy cam from nineteen ninety something dangling from my wrist.

“No, no. It’s great.” Placing his suitcase on the tile flooring of the small bathroom, he flashes me a genuine smile before he peels back the bedsheets and checks the corners thoroughly for anything that could raise red flags.

“I could have sworn I paid for two beds, I don’t know how they mixed that up.” Running a hand through my hair, it only now hit me that there was only one place to sleep in the room. Usually, it would be no big deal seeing as Harry and I often spend our time together glued at the hip in his large bed or cramped together in my mid sized one. But I paid extra money to have the extra mattress, and money was tighter than usual and I just wanted everything to be perfect.

Harry simply shrugged it off, laying back against the headboard while dialing the front desks number with his right hand and welcoming me into his arms with his left one.

“I don’t have cooties, you know.” Shooting him a glare, I lay my head against his chest and take the phone in my hand that wasn’t wrapped underneath his waist. I feel one of his hands play around with the band on my wrist to grab the camera from me while he waits. The phone rings for some time before the monotone voice of the teenager working the front desk cracked through the shitty phone speakers.

Harry didn’t listen to much of the conversation, choosing to run his fingers through my hair and hum quietly under his breath, playing around with any buttons he could find on the camera.

“So thats the best you can do?” I asked, feeling my chest tighten like an elastic band. I raised from my spot on Harry’s chest, sitting on my knees and slouching in defeat, “No, I don’t need that. If I could get my money back though, for the extra bed?” Looking at Harry, I shook my head in question, sighing without making a sound.

“Yeah, that would be great. Thank you so much.” Before I could continue my passive aggressive approach to the situation, the line beeped dead and Harry began to crack a smile.

“’s not funny!” I slurred my words, feeling the ache between my bones hit me at that very moment. I let my body fall into Harry’s chest once again, sighing at the vanilla scent from his cologne that fills my nose and the warmth from his body despite the sweltering heat from the Italian summer making our joints extra sticky with sweat. A soft thud on the bedside table on Harry’s side tells me he’s done playing around on the camera and has turned his full attention to me.

“I don’t mind being stuck with you, y’know.” He tries to downplay the situation, diffusing my rising anxiety about expenses he recognizes in my mannerisms and my attitude. Huffing in response, I roll off of him and sprawl out like a starfish. My eyes find a home in the ceiling and I feel Harry take my right hand in his, “Why don’t we go to the pool? Why waste such a nice night pouting, yeah?” He tilts his head towards our bags that are still in the bathroom, and when our eyes meet, we both know someway or another he’s going to drag me down there.

“Race you?” I regret my words when I feel him scramble off the bed beside me, letting me get tangled in the sheets while he strips into his bright yellow swim trunks and dad-like flip flops. I laugh about it not being fair while I clasp my top in the back and desperately try and kick my sandals on but he’s already out the door, leaving it wide open as he runs down the slippery stairs and all but dives into the deep end of the teal waters.

“Come on in, the waters just fine!” He laughs, urging me to join him and I’ve never felt more alive as I full sprint off the edge of the cement and fall into the pool with my best friend.

“I call it a tie!” Water falls from my hairline as I break the water’s surface.

“What? No way, I smoked your ass!” Harry splashes me, hopping back when he sees me approaching him with a mischievous grin.

“You had a false start, I was not ready. So, as the officiator of this match, I have decided to add on penalty time meaning we tied.” The water creates a wave like pattern on our bodies, illuminating our sun kissed skin a hue of bluish-green and hiding any fading sunburns from the beginning of summer.

“You little minx!” He rushes towards me and I can feel my heart beating through my chest.

When he wraps his arms around my torso and threatens to dunk me, I can’t help the ugly giggles that bubble out of my mouth and shake my whole body. I can’t help the way my hands claw at his skin to keep me afloat even though I know he would never dunk me if I didn’t want him to or the way his laughter only makes my ribs tougher and my stomach ache worse.

“If I go down, I’m taking you with me!” Wrapping my hands around his shoulders, I somehow manage to maneuver myself in a way that has us both flipping into the six foot deep end.

I imagine the people who are sleeping just beside the pool are thankful for the brief silence when we are submerged, and I swear someone screams at us to shut the hell up when we start coughing and screaming again at the sudden chill of pool water soaking our drying skin.

“Best vacation ever!” Harry yells it in my ear, watching how I flinch away and cover my ears with my fingers and grimace, bearing all my teeth when I groan through them but also smiling while I do it.

I jump up onto his back, holding him like a koala bear and try my best not to slip off of his wet body.

“I know!” Somehow, we end up in the water again, and I don’t mind the sting of water in my nose or how I cough a large amount of it out over the edge of the pool when we break the surface again because Harry’s patting my back while I do it, and I do the same for him.

It’s funny and delirious and stupid, but the pool is occupied by us until our skin is pruned until there’s no more wrinkles to create and our lips are more blue than the water we swim in. And I swear, it feels like flying.

“One long island on the rocks!” He held up one finger but quickly held up another and corrected himself, “No, wait, two! Two on the rocks please!” He slurred, slapping a twenty down on the bar and handing one of the orangey-red drinks to me.

The glasses clinked together, sloshing the liquid within them and knocking my lime to the ground with a splat. Still, neither of us cared much, choosing to smile and laugh while we make our way back to the sandy shores of the nearby beach.

“This tastes so good! He knew what he was doing!” Pointing at my glass, I nod my head enthusiastically, feeling my cheeks start to hurt with how big I was smiling.

“No, you’re just drunk! I would know, I am too!” Harry stumbles all the way to the sand, downing the glass and setting it on the top of a nearby trashcan along with my half finished one.

“Heyyy, I wasn’t done!” Taking my hands in his, Harry begins pulling me to the waves that crashed down onto the sand, laughing at how my feet struggle to keep up with his in our drunken states.

“Come on, I’m hot!” The water hit our skin like a ton of bricks, tiny icicles hitting up to our hips and before we could turn back, a large wave knocked us over and fully submerged our goosebump covered bodies.

“Holy shit! Holy shit!” It didn’t necessarily hurt, being in the water and splashing around in it’s freezing temperatures, but it was shocking, especially with the extra heat of alcohol roasting us underneath the warmth of the summer sun.

Neither of us speak for a moment, choosing to hold our arms away from our bodies and look down at ourselves like we are trying to air dry our limbs after the accidental ice bath.

A puff of air leaves Harry’s mouth, followed by another and another. I look up to see him, and he’s already looking at me with a smile plastered on his face and giggles falling from his drunken lips. I’m only acutely aware of the heavy feelings in my limbs, but my own giggles falling from my lips mask the weird sensation and I don’t really care for it.

“You have seaweed on your…” Pointing to the top of his head, I look at the very small piece of the plant tangled in his curly brown hair, it almost looks like it’s part of it.

Harry picks it out, dangling in front of his face and smiling at it for a second. Then, he throws it at me.

“Ew! No-Harry!” Flinching away, I splash more water onto the both of us and feel the shock of it too, but I can’t stop moving, even after it’s fallen into the water in front of me, only barely touching my arm. Harry doesn’t seem to mind the water anymore though, sitting back and watching my overdramatic reaction to his antics. It’s only after I stop flailing about that he leans his too half into the water, scooping up a larger chunk of the plant and staring at me like a man with a plan.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare!” Running through the water feels impossible, each stride I take being slowed by the movement of the shallow waves and the uneven surface of the rocks and the sand underneath my feet. I can hear his breathing just behind my ears, and the sloshing of his feet breaking through the water makes my heart pound faster.

I’m not sure where the chase disperses, when he gets tired of chasing me and decides to call a truce, but Harry stops chasing me after a good long while, metallic taste in our mouths rising from our throats and breathing so heavy, I think for a second I’ll have to go running to find Harry’s inhaler.

“Are you okay?” His voice fades in and out of my ears, I’m too focused on the taste in my throat and the steady restriction of my throat. I feel it bubbling up, and the saliva in my mouth seems to multiply. I’m on the brink of sobriety, or something close to it, so when he calls after me as I fight my way out of the ocean, I keep steady on my path to the one open trashcan just down the shore.

My hands grip the edge of the hot black plastic rim, bending myself forward and popping my foot up to better submerge myself into the opening. A gag followed by another and another shakes my entire body before everything spews out of me in an orangey-lime colored mess. I can still taste the alcohol on my breath, and I can feel the tears behind my eyes.

Harry came to rub my back and hold my hair, rubbing circles and looking away so I won’t feel embarrassed after.

Rising from the trashcan, I notice he also looks a bit paler than before, his eyes carry a baggage I never noticed and his lips are chapped.

“Fuck.” Wiping anything that could have gotten on my lips away, Harry laughs at me in the same drunken way he did in the water.

“What? What?!” I catch myself laughing, holding my stomach and feeling it turn underneath my palms. He directs his head towards the ocean, leaning against the trashcan now and somehow ignoring the smell.

“Real amateur move, just threw up in the great big ocean like any other person.” He jokes, and I feel my face contort with disgust. I would have laughed harder if I were still completely hammered, but after physically ridding myself of most of what I have consumed within the past few hours, I’m beginning to feel the effects washing off and leaving behind an intense pounding in my head.

“You’re disgusting.” Looking behind me, I make sure Harry is still following me. The day isn’t even close to being over yet, but with us pouring down shots at ten in the morning like it’s water, it feels more like midnight rather than midday.

Weaving between dirt paths made from excessive use on grassy areas and sidewalks that lead us to where we need to be, Harry and I are complaining about how heavy our feet feel and how tired we are getting. The drunk highs have already passed and all we can focus on is the plushy bed waiting for us at the hotel.

“Y/n!” Harry’s hand pulls me back, his chest hitting my spine with the force he uses against me. My foot that had stepped off of the sidewalk to cross the road to get to our hotel is yanked back onto the higher ground, a bus honking as it speeds by. I can feel his heartbeat pounding into my body and the sweat gathering on his palms. He mumbles something under his breath, the but ringing of the horn is still overwhelming my eardrums and drowning out everything else.

Truly, I don’t care that much about the incident, it wouldn’t mean much anyway if I had kept going. I probably would have made it, or worse case scenario, the wheel nicks my foot. But it has Harry all up in arms, checking the road on both sides multiple times before he decides it’s safe to cross. I’ll blame it on my drunkenness or my tiredness, and Harry will scold me, if we don’t fall asleep first. Which we do.

Or rather, he does.

The softness of the bed is nice, something that I was able to sink into the night before when I reached a point of absolute exhaustion, but now it feels too soft on my back that is used to my hard mattress at home. The pillows are flat, or at least mine are, and the blankets are scratchy.

The tiles in the bathroom are cold, a deep blue color that compliments the boring grey walls nicely. The toilet creaks as I shift all my weight down onto it, a bottle that resembles aloe vera to my left and a bucket of water to my right.

The cap pops open quietly, and the gel pours out of it with a fight. It’s been left behind somehow, and nobody has come to collect it. It’s gooey and it smells odd, sticking together in clumps between my fingers and pulling at my arm hair when I try to spread it.

My eyes are too heavy and my fingers are lazy, I can’t even try to fight against the thick mess rubbing into my skin.

Sighing, I give up on the gel, not liking the tug, even though the cold feels good on my skin. It’s when I close the cap again, holding the previously discarded bottle in my hands I realize I’ve read it wrong in my sleepy haze. It’s only so gooey because it’s not aloe vera, but rather a hair gel with aloe vera in it.

“What the fuck?” It goes straight into the trash, right next to the water bucket which is swiftly slid over to sit right in front of me, propped between my ankles.

It doesn’t pull off easy, taking some hair with it. My skin feels slimy for a little, but no longer sticky. I think it’s probably because in a way, I’ve just waxed my arms because I’m too damn lazy to thoroughly read a bottle. Other than the horrible feeling of it, I don’t mind the inconvenience of it. It wasn’t like I was going to sleep anytime soon, and it distracted from the pounding in my head. I wonder silently if Harry packed anything for pain? I hadn’t, I’d barely remembered to pack enough shirts and he always has those kind of things.

Treading lightly along the carpeted floors and looking over my shoulder, I see Harry passed out on his stomach, a little wet spot collecting under his cheek which is firmly pressed against the comforter. The zipper to his bag is much louder than mine, it’s also ten times more expensive than mine and newer. But he has the money to spend, and I would do the same if I were him. I just wish with how much money it cost that they would have opted for a quieter zipper. I think back to when we were still in school, taking calculus and cheating off of each other and stealing notes. Harry was always a very heavy sleeper in his teen years, but it feels like the more well known he becomes, the more jumpy he is in his sleep. Maybe it’s because of the constant pressure of pleasing his fans or the rigorous schedule his team put him on in his early twenties, but it eases the aching in my chest to think it’s just because he’s getting older.

A tiny pack of aspirin catches my attention in the first pocket I open along side some deodorant and toothpaste. An odd combination, but very Harry.

Opening it with a struggle because of the damn child lock caps, I see there are only three left. All that struggle only to be able to take one. After all, it’s not mine and Harry would surely need more than me after the current coma he was inducing, his groaning and complaining is something I can already hear. I swallow it dry and drift over to the balcony.

The sun is still so high in the sky, it’s only just past one now. Children play and cars pass, the breeze is blowing my shirt against my body and cooling the sweat that is collecting on my upper lip.

Harry is passed out in bed and my body is more awake than ever. It’s funny because it’s usually him calling my phone late at night telling me he’s on the way over and to get myself ready because we’re going out. I smile to myself, all of our best memories happen just before we get drunk it seems like. The wine spilling on his carpet after his first grammy win, or the deep conversations curled up in the corner of some bar while we nurse some strong beverages and laugh about all of our shitty lovers and toxic exes.

“Harry.” Calling out to him from the balcony, I find it’s much more comfortable out here in the breeze, where it feels like flying if you stick out your arms and close your eyes, rather than laying like a dead man in a stuffy hotel room.

He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t even shift. He still has the redness in his cheeks that tequila stains him with and the sweat collecting on his hairline. He looks completely at peace with himself, unbothered by the broken air conditioning and the overworked fan humming away in the corner.

I decide that just because he isn’t up for an adventure, I shouldn’t sit around and wait for him to find one. Theres a crinkled up receipt on the floor just by the foot of the bed, it’s got his name on the top and a long list of drinks down the length of it. I flip it over and flatten out. There’s no good pens, only a half dead one on the dresser that makes loud scratching sounds every time it passes over the paper.

Gone out, couldn’t sleep. Be back in an hour. Love you always and forever! Xoxo, your best friend.

It sits stuck with an edge trapped beneath the phone on the bedside table, the rest of it blows softly every time the fan rotates in that direction. Harry scrunches his nose slightly every time the breeze hits him, it feels nice in the summer heat and even better with the extra warmth in our veins. He doesn’t even know he’s doing it, it makes a moment like this sweeter. A memory only I’ll remember and get to carry with me.

I hope no matter what happens my brain never fails me, so that when I die and go wherever I’m supposed to be in the afterlife, I can still have my memories to hold onto and I’ll be able to carry his smile with me as I roam the empty earth alone.

“These glasses are nice.” My fingers run over the rims, feeling the smoothness of the glossy finish over the tortoiseshell color. Harry has a very similar pair, only the temple tips of his have worn down and there are scratches on the lenses. He has plenty of sunglasses, but he those are his favorite. He insists on wearing them even when some of his have never been touched.

“How much are they?” Holding them up to my eyes, I move them back and forth to watch the darkened parts of the world shrink and expand within the round boarders.

“A hundred.” The man behind the counter smiles nicely at me, watching how delicately my hands hold the glasses between my fingers. I clear my throat and fold the temples in.

“Sorry, in pounds?” He lulls his head back, thinking and clicking his tongue while he counts.

“About eighty five pounds, one hundred seven US dollars.” I nod my head and place them on the counter. As soon as I do so, the man seems to be quick to swoop them up and clean away any marks left behind with a cloth. It almost makes me laugh.

“Uhm…” I dig through my wallet, looking at what I have left. I’ve emptied most of my account into my wallet for this extended weekend. My savings going into the tickets and the hotel room, which felt more like a motel, and some change going towards drinks and food. Still, I have nearly double what I need for it left in my wallet and motivation that makes me dig it out of the leathery pocket and hand it over to the man. “Eighty five, right there.” I smile up at him and he smiles back. He gives me the glasses back in a fancy case with a magnetic button that seals them away safely which is wrapped tightly in light blue wrapping paper. It crinkles in my hands, but I think it’s just lovely. Harry will love it.

“Thank you. Have a good day!” A bell chimes when I exit the store, and the stifling heat outside makes my already prominent eye bags feel ten times heavier than before. I feel the same sluggish feeling I did after the beach, only this time it’s accompanied by a real sense of tiredness only the overly soft bed can fix.

The sounds of the passing cars and the ticking of crosswalk signals all sort of blur into the distance the closer I get to the room. My key is stuffed in with the crinkled bills and old coupons that have expired long ago. I’m so focused on getting into the warm comforts of the room, I don’t hear the shuffling around inside of it or the angelic humming of my best friend just on the other side of the door.

“Y/n/n!” He looks like he’s been hit by a bus. A really beautiful, clean, expensive bus. Even hungover with dry drool on his cheek the man still manages to resemble one of those greek statues that proudly display their defined features and sharp jawlines.

He has the bottle of Advil in one hand and the handy cam presses in the palm of the other. He moves it close to my face until I swat it down, laughing at him like he wanted.

My thumb presses against his cheek, my palm cupping his chin. I wipe away the dry drool and make a mental note to wash my hands before I touch anything else.

“Have a nice sleep?” His tongue pokes out of his mouth to lick away my hand and for the second time today I grimace in disgust and back off, but not before wiping the wet patch down his arm.

“It was okay. Woke up a little after you left, I think. Thought you up and left me until I found the note.” He jokes.

“How’d you know I wasn’t just in the bathroom then if you didn’t see the note?” I see now that he’s moved it over to another table in the room and that the phone it was under is moved to the further side of the table.

“I didn’t hear snoring.” I hit his arm. “Ow!”

“Asshole!” He laughs at me and for a second I think about hitting him again, but this time over the top of his head.

“You love me.” I shake my head, walking to the bathroom to piss or vomit, I’m not really sure.

“Nope.” I pop the ‘p’, closing the door and locking it in his face.

“Yes you do, you liar! You wrote it right here! Love you always and forever, xoxo, your best friend! You put two different kinds of love in one note! You must really love me!” I open the door and throw a towel at him before slamming it shut again.

“Don’t love you enough to not debate tossing you over the balcony right now!” I hear him laugh at that and for a second, as we wind down from our fits of giggles it’s completely quiet.

“I do love you though.” I admit softly, hunched over the toilet and smiling.

“I knew it!” I can practically hear his gloating grin in his shouting and I wonder how no one has come knocking at our door to tell us to shut up yet.

I shush him aggressively, placing a finger to my lips even though he cant see it, “Quiet! Please, can’t a girl throw up in peace?” Harry groans, but his back doesn’t lift from the door and his shadow doesn’t move.

“Do you need me to hold your hair?” I don’t answer him, instead I unlock the door, holding back a gag as the familiar restrictive feeling comes back up my throat. I’m on my knees when he walks in and his hands are threading through my hair as gently as possible.

“Let it all out.” He tries to be comforting, finding that his hands are big enough to hold my hair and rub my back at the same time. I don’t find it aggravating, in fact I think it’s kind of sweet that he cares so much, that he doesn’t completely ignore me because it’s gross. But I can’t lie and say I didn’t roll my eyes a little bit when he says it, because it feels just a little condescending and my mouth tastes bitter.

“Oh my god, please stop talking.” My head is back in the toilet, gagging up a mix of medication, ocean water, alcohol and old water from Harry’s water bottle. Harry’s laughing and I can’t help but too, but it comes out more as a dry cough followed by a string of spit into the water which only makes us laugh harder.

After some time, I think I’ve gotten it all out. Instead of being hunched over the toilet, by back is pressed against the cool tiles of the bathroom floor and my arms are resting over Harry’s chest. The sound of our breathing fills the quiet room and we find that it’s very comfortable just sitting like this, in the company of the other.

“Harry,” He hums, turning his head to look at me even though mine is still facing the ceiling, “Did you turn off the camera?” He sits up quickly, huffing curses under his breath and looking to see how long he had been recording. My laughter echos throughout the room when he sees he’s captured the entire thing, shutting it off swiftly and storing it in an empty compartment in his bag.

He calls it stupid, a waste of space and useless, but I know he doesn’t think that. His sister gave it to me when she got her first phone and I’ve used it to record special trips ever since. He texted me to remind me to bring it, and I yell out to call him a dirty liar while he pouts around.

“Come on, we’ve been in bed all day. The weekend’s not passing any slower and we aren’t getting any younger!” He shook me vigorously, smiling that same toothy grin I remember from our childhood, and the same one that promised before he ever stepped foot onto a stage that he would never forget me, and would always be near. We’ve both changed, but it’s nice to know that some promises are forever.

I simply shrug Harry off, finding peace in the cocoon of our bedding that he had made for us in the middle of the night. Still, he’s persistent against my body, begging and pleading for me to just go with him and he hasn’t even said where he wants to go.

“We’ve only got two good nights left before we leave and this is one of them. Get up!” I don’t choose to listen to his whining, mumbling something about the cheep ass wine we found at the drug store around the block and the pounding in my head thats only gotten worse on this three day bender.

“You can’t still be hung over, get up. Come on, I planned something fun for us!” Again, he tries to take me with him. He knows that once I’m up, I’m up. I’ll easily follow him anywhere with anyone because with him, it’s just that simple.

“Harry.” I warn him, my voice airy and soft the first time and my eyes avoiding his playful expression. Still, he seems to find it all too entertaining that I’m so stubborn yet so easy to crack. He keeps pushing, literally, and begging and whining and talking.

“Harry, stop!” Sitting up from the blankets, for a second he thinks he’s won. I’m above the covers and facing him just like he wants but then he see’s the bags under my eyes and the haze hanging over my face. While I am up, no longer comforted by the security of the blankets, I am not able to leave the mattress. So, he backs away, scoffing under his breath and looking to the ceiling like I’ve just kicked him.

I can hear the faint sound of tapping by his side, the same sound I know to be of his thumb digging into his cuticles and picking away any fresh skin until he bleeds. Usually, I would at least tell him to stop, even if we were angry at each other, but today I find that I don’t really have the energy to do anything except slump into myself and hold my head in my hands.

“Jesus, Y/n.” He’s turned himself around so he’s looking out of the glass doors that lead to the small balcony. For a second it even looks like he’s tempted to slide them open and just be with the breeze, but he doesn’t do that. Instead, Harry has spun himself back around with the saddest look on his face and blotches of red produced from stress lining his neck.

“Harry, please. Maybe later, I just…I just don’t feel up to it right now.” I’m praying that he understands, he surely should. He better than anyone else would know the feeling of creeping aches in our joints and the heaviness of our mind.

“You’re never up to it.” Is what he says instead. He was never going to coddle me, that I understood. While he had in the past, we were never the over the top touchy people who survived solely off of the brush of a stray arm at a party or a compliment of a stranger at midnight.

His words have always been kind, but not this time it seems. Because they wobble a little when he says it and he doesn’t look very confident in how he’s standing. But I wouldn’t know because I can’t even look him in the eyes right now.

“We’ve spent the last couple days getting sick out of our minds in the bathroom, it smell’s like a bar in here and yet, you can’t even find it in you to push through for a few hours for your best friend?” He doesn’t really mean it that way, he’ll come back later tonight begging me to understand what he really meant, but just because Harry has always been kind does not mean he has always been smart. Sometimes, even the person who preaches kindness to everyone can be a foul man to the people he loves.

“You know that’s not what’s happening, stop being a jerk!” I scream but I don’t mean to. In fact, I don’t even know why I’m yelling because I’m not angry, or irritated or anything. It’s like I’ve been dragged through some slick mud, stuck in it with nothing to grab onto to pull me out, not even Harry. It keeps me here, in this bed, it’s paralysis through the brain. I can move but every cell in my body advises me to stay put.

Breathing heavily, Harry simply sticks his hands into his pockets, shoving his knuckles down so harshly that I can see the waist tug down just a little further on his stomach. His nose is flaring up and his lips moving with his tongue that swipes over his teeth.

“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, I really don’t, but you need to fix it.” It’s low coming from his mouth, almost like he wants me to hear it, but he doesn’t want to say it. My throat has gone dry now, eyes looking at his forehead rather than his eyes because now I can’t even stand the sight of him anymore. I’m so much more than tired and he doesn’t get it, my best friend doesn’t get it.

The door closes, the handle rattling with the force he shuts it with, and yet even though we’ve just blown up at each other all I can worry about is if he’d hung the do not disturb sign on the door or not. My best friend, my life has just walked out on me, blind with rage and all I can worry about is if someone will come knocking or not?

I’ve always known there was something wrong with me, the sunny Saturday’s not hitting quite the same and the good things always draining my body of the little life I had left to give. The other kids were never that way, going from party to party in high school and laughing like they had no tomorrow to worry about.

Theres something royally fucked up about me and I don’t know how to help it. I know that theres nothing wrong with what I have, but I can’t help but feel ashamed when I find the most interest in rotting away in some lumpy bed when the whole world is just at my fingertips and I can explore it all with a hell of a good man and best friend by my side.

A soft knock at the door pulls me from my self pity, and for a second I almost let myself believe that it could be Harry coming back. But the voice of an older woman knocking to see if anyone will answer and tell her to go away changes the image of Harry on the other side of the door into a woman hunched over with a cleaning cart and reality sets in.

“Sorry, I’m in here!” I call out, and when she doesn’t answer, I let myself become pulled from the bed, sitting up to answer it if I have to. The wheels of the cart move on to the rest of the hallway, a faint knock followed by the jingle of room keys tell me that she’s left, and so has Harry.

A trip I planned for him, one that I worked so hard to make possible just in case I were to never be put in a position where I could ever again, ruined because of myself. A selfish monster is crawling under my skin, over my bones and it just doesn’t feel right, why can’t I feel alright?

Hot tears are pouring down my cheeks, falling into my lap as I now sit in nothing more than a damp swimsuit and Harry’s old grey shirt I stole from him back in high school. It still smells like him, even after I’ve washed it over and over. I try not to because once it’s gone, and I fear that all leftover from our youth will become washed away and the cloudy haze of simplicity that comes with it.

“Oh, god!” The words heave out of me in a deep breath, cracking with each syllable. I try to rub my hands up and down against my thighs, but my hands are shaking and I can’t see all that well through my teary vision, I find myself clawing at the fat of my thighs, pressing deeper and deeper until the ache becomes so intense that my fingers stutter and break free.

I don’t think I could speak if I tried. It’s hard to scream when it’s hard to breathe, and my lungs are giving out right in front of me while I wail like a tall child, rocking slightly with each deep breath and the tremble of my joints.

Its dark, orange hues sinking into pitch black lit up by splintered streetlights and yellowed overhead lights shining through windows. The moon casts a streak of light through the glass doors, the same that lead out onto the balcony, and I can see the crescent shapes of my nails tattooed into my skin and red with blood.

Harry’s out getting drunk, probably bent over a pool table or people watching at the outdoor bar on the other side of the resort, and I imagine his velvet laugh hanging in the air and the gentle sound of his hushed dirty jokes whispered in my ears.

I hope he knows that I do love him, I only ever want him around forever, and if I could fix myself in every way to be more fit for you, I would. I just hope that someday he’ll forget all about this, and I could act happy.

“Are you still mad at me?” My arms are tucked over the sheets, hands clasped together and eyes glued to the ceiling, Harry does nothing more than breathe heavily out through his nose beside me in the same position I lay in.

“Harry?” I call again, the shuffle of my head rubbing against the pillow case filling the silence in the room.

It’s nearly the same time as the night before, our last day together spent avoiding speaking to each other, but our longing gazes speak for us, and we both recognize that we miss the company of the other.

“Harry, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to waste any of our time together, I just wasn’t feeling right.” I try to reason, and I don’t think it works until I see his head falling to the side to look at me, his hands unclasping so he can reach up and brush the flyaways out of my face.

“It’s okay.” He tells me with his palm pressed to my cheek, slowly moving to cradle my jawline with his pinky.

He wears a sad smile, one that tells me he’s still bothered. But, unfortunately for him, I’m a sick woman, not a nasty one.

“No, it’s not okay, it’s not and I’m sorry.” Shaking his shoulder with my hand, I find it in my sleep filled bones to pull the sheets off of both of us, slipping over his body to stand by the side of his bed where I start shaking him again.

“It’s not okay so let me make it up to you.” My hands find their way under his arms, trying my best to pull him from the mattress that has been dented with the shapes of our bodies.

He whines, closing his eyes and fighting a smile but doesn’t try to fight against my pull. He falls into my body with a grunt, eyelashes fluttering against my collar bone and the feeling of his lips curling into a secret smile against my shoulder, we both laugh silently, and my hands briefly rub at his back.

“Alright, come on idiot, get up because I’m taking you out. My treat!” Shoving him back into the bed, he bounces against the worn springs and settles back into place, hands folded over his stomach and a toothy grin on his face. I can see how his eyes shift, the same broken eyes from the night before mended into the same green ones I always knew, the same ones that were now subtly shifting around to observe my face, admiring my smile the way I do to him.

“We don’t have all night, come on!” And he’s up, feet padding behind mine with that same lopsided smile he’s worn since we started talking again and the same energy I’ve always known him to have.

We’re out the door within minutes, barely even put together when the door slams shut, just like before only now we’re both rushing down the steps, tripped over the gaps in the stairs and the weeds that grow within the cement.

“Come on, catch up!” I can’t stop laughing, no alcohol in my system and yet I’ve got the same rose colored haze covering my eyes and the same smile that bears all my teeth.

Harry is panting behind me, joking that without his trainer and daily routines he’s lost his touch, his feet slapping the ground with a loud thud every time they connect, breath heavy in my ears.

The moon hangs high in the sky, accompanied by millions of sparkling stars surrounding its welcoming glow and twinkling fairy lights hung from every nearby post to the next. You can yell and scream all you want and the music from the outdoor bar and the hum of the air conditioning will tune you out. It’s like free falling without the bone crush sprinting and weaving through these paths, it feels like living.

In the distance, from across the street just beyond the pools you can hear the music grow louder, my ears picking up on the strumming of a baseline and the tune of an old song that we used to sing not so long ago.

Freddie Mercury’s voice mixed with Bowie is something I believe to be heaven on earth, a mix that can never be over appreciated or overplayed. We’ve caught the beginning of the famous song and we both know it, and without a second glance, Harry smiles at me because he knows it better than anyone that I’ve set my heart on something tonight.

My palms are sweating in the humid summer night heat, but I grab onto Harry’s hand anyways and pull him along with me, only quickly checking both ways for cars as we sprint across the significantly newer cement and laugh. A car’s headlights appear just over the hill and a small blue car speeds past us once we’ve made it up the curb, but I don’t stop.

No, instead I’m turning my whole body to face him, only focused on the curly headed boy who’s held my heart in the palms of his hands since we were only kids running on the blacktop and through the muddy grass at school. I only hear his muffled laughter under the booming music and the crowd that takes up the makeshift dance floor at the bar.

His feet are planted on the floor and I can feel my hands slipping away from his, Freddie sings about the people on the streets, the snaps of the bridge quiet enough for my voice to begin reaching his ears.

“I don’t dance!” He shrugs his shoulders, letting his hands fall to his sides stubbornly as I back away towards the crowd even more, but I stick close by.

“Harry.” Tilting my head, I look at him knowingly. He does dance, within the tiling of my kitchen or the walls of his bedroom, on stage for his fans or at parties after a few too many shots. Harry does dance, he just wont.

“I never, ever dance.” He’s trying to convince me, trying to hide his smile that so desperately wants to break free.

Holding my arms out and moving my body back slowly, I smile at him fondly, “I’m dancing with or without you.” I’m getting farther away now, and he’s stuck in place, watching with his best poker face.

“I told you I love to dance!” Spinning around, I place my hands on my hips and do my worst dancing possible just to see the blush on his face rise into a peachy pink.

“Y/n/n, stop. This is embarrassing.” He tries to keep lying, but his words fade into a weak laugh at the end and his teeth show for just a second too long.

“This is embarrassing?” He knows I don’t believe him, I never did but still I find myself moving closer to the crowd, stepping to the beat and and swaying my hips and shoulders.

When I turn around, he’s looking at me in a way I’ve never seen before, like I’ve hung the sun and the stars all for him and spread them across the sky.

“What? Come on.” My arm slings around his shoulder, pulling him in and trapping him on the dance floor. He finds it funny, all this fight, but he’s breaking down and we both know it.

“Ready?” I tease, holding his biceps in my hands and trying to move in the same way I just was. He tries to tell me to stop, by I don’t pay him any attention as I tell him, “Let’s dance.”

“Stop!” He shoves me back playfully, but his smile is showing all his teeth and his laugh is filled with pure happiness, he doesn’t even try to fight when I pull him back onto the floor, dancing with him with no real rhythm or rules.

I feel his heartbeat against mine, our bodies pressed together tightly as he spins me in his arms like real friends do.

‘Cause loves such an old-fashioned word and love dares you to care for the people(people on the streets) on the edge of the night and love(people on the streets) dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves.

He spins me around and holds my head in his hands, I can smell the toothpaste on his lips and feel the scars from his guitar on his pointer and his thumb.

This is our last dance, this is our last dance

“Have I ever told you I love you?” I scream at him despite how close we are, and the smile he shows me is infectious.

“A few times, yeah!” He jokes, but the music is too good and the night is growing tired. I don’t want this night to end, I want to feel this way forever, I don’t want to have to always chase it.

“Well I mean it, and I’ve never felt this way about anyone else!” He spins for the thousandth time of the night, lifting my head above his just to hear my squeals.

“Consider myself lucky then, because I love you like I’ve loved no one else!” Harry says it, but he says it in a way that feels different than my confession. I hope I can hold onto him forever.

This is ourselves

The camera clicks to a stop, a collection of some stray videos from early high school and a storyline reflecting back on our final trip. The camera still has dents from her careless behavior when storing it away, and the quality of each video feels so much worse without her here to watch and laugh with me. It feels older, I am older.

A year since I’d last seen her, a year since we took separate planes home and promised to visit each other soon. A year since I got that damn letter in the mail taped to a small gift shaped in a crinkly mess from the blue wrapping paper just days after the news broke like some sort of sick joke.

I hate that I can only hear her voice through the salvaged videos, the wind covering the breathiness of her laugh and the calming sound of her voice. I hate the way I’ll never see the way her eyes sparkle under the night skies again, and most importantly I hate how I never saw it coming, even when she was showing me all of the signs.

I don’t think I’ll ever open that letter, not for a while at least, when the pain has settled. But how can it when I��ve just lost my whole life? The only person to ever make me feel alive in a way nobody else ever could, not even the screaming crowds of thousands of fans each night.

But I’ll reread the front of it like a prayer, her messy handwriting something I’ll miss forever, the little notes she’d pass or the drawings in sharpie that left stains behind on my coffee table.

The front of the letter, though crinkled from shipping and losing its stickiness reads, “To Harry, the love of my life, I love you always and forever. Love, y/n.” And just beside her name she leaves a little heart, something to try and lessen the blow of her absence.

And the glasses she sent along with the letter, the last thing she ever gave me. They still have a lingering smell of Italy, but more than that, I convince myself I can still smell her perfume on the plastic. Even when doing one last nice thing to me though, she leaves a little piece of paper taped to the lenses, “They were getting a little gross…try these.” And with snot running down my chin and red blotches of skin from my tears, I find myself laughing at her stupid little insult.

I know I’ll love these forever, and I’ll laugh whenever I put them on, because in my head I can see her taking them off of my head and trying them on, and we’ll both agree that they look better on her.

I hope they never loose her smell, and I hope that I never forget the sound of her voice or the colors in her eyes. She’ll never know about the plans I hoped we’d make, and she’ll never be back to try and embarrass me and dance with me in public.

But sometimes when I’m lucky I get to relive those moments in my sleep, and it’s almost like I can still feel her touch and see her smile even if it’s across some dark bar that never ends.

So I’ll live through her in pieces, telling all those willing to listen her story and how much I’ll always love her. And I’ll hang onto our last dance forever.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #yn x harry #yn x harrystyles #harry styles #harry styles angst #fine line harry styles #hslot harry #harry x reader #aftersun inspired #harrystyles

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x-liv25-jamieswife · 4 months

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YAYY!! Reqs are open again! I know you’ve already done something similar but can you do maybe some hcs of Graysons mental if that makes sense (like anxiety, depression, schizophrenia) only if you feel comfortable ofc <3

sad grayson head canons pt. 2

of course! i wont be talking about schizophrenia though bc i don't know enough about it and i don't feel comfortable talking about smth knowing i might be writing things that are completely inaccurate and that might offend/hurt some people. i apologize if these suck or if this is really short. when i made this post, i had just found out someone in my family was in the hospital and i wrote these to distract me so idk how good they'll be. not all of these will be on anxiety and depression btw. tw for suicidal thoughts. hope you still like them <3.

when he swims at night, the pool tends to be very cold bc its the one of the only things that makes him forgot about everything that is making him anxious. if he can't swim, he takes cold showers.

although it might not look like it, he gets very anxious and overwhelmed in situations where there are a lot of people. he overthinks everything he says to them, wonders if his suit looks nice enough/if he's presentable, if he's making a good impression, and has trouble focusing when there are so many people he has to talk too. he's very good at hiding it though so you would never guess (like i said, multiple people, if its just one person it doesn't matter to him)

like i said in my last hc, he gets anxious when talking to many people. i want to add that usually, its not usually himself that makes himself anxious but emily talking in his head telling him he's doing smth wrong. basically, if it weren't for emily, he wouldn't be anxious talking to so many people. idk if this one makes sense.

one of the reasons he wears suits is bc it makes him feel put together when he feels like a mess in his head. he always looks so flawless which makes people think he's fine.

he went through a period of time when he was younger where he couldn't get out of bed to go to school/do his school work which ig seems ooc, but we're talking about young grayson here, not the put together version of him we know. he hated himself so bad he didn't think it was worth living anymore and thought that there was no point in working if he wasn't going to live long enough to get a career/become an adult. also, another reason was bc he felt sm pressure to be the best that he kind of just gave up. tobias got mad at him and thought he was overreacting. he did get better thanks to his brothers, enough for him to start doing his school work again and start handling the pressure he was under.

he's very self-conscious about his appearance. by this i don't mean looking put together, i mean sometimes he'll look in the mirror and think he's gained weight which makes him workout more/swim. its not that he finds himself ugly, he just doesn't want people to notice and think something's wrong/he's going through something when he obviously is (cause in his head, if he doesn't always look the same, people will think smth's wrong/he's loosing control but thats just not true).

he used to have bad acne growing up and it really affected his confidence. he used to try to cover it up with concealer but no matter what he did it was always visible. it ended up going away but he hates looking at old pictures of himself cause he hates seeing it. it caused him really bad anxiety in public bc he thought people were judging him.

sometimes, people will try to talk to him but he won't hear them bc he can't stop stressing over all of the things he has to do and is stuck in his head. people have to repeat what they're saying and and shake him to get him out of spiraling.

grayson tried to stop taking his anti depressants when he was younger cause he was sure he didn't need them. he realized not long after that he couldn't just stop and that they were actually helping him.

after he realized they were helping him, he started to wonder why he couldn't be 'normal' like his other brothers (at the time, he didn't know his brothers were also struggling with their own issues)

to handle his anxiety when he was younger, he would punch a punching bag. this was before he learned how to handle his anger and stuff. he only allowed himself to lose control when doing this.

his room and office have to be clean at all times. if it isn't, it causes him even more anxiety. it makes him feel messy and not in control.

his grand father used to tell him that hawthornes don't have mental illnesses and that he's overreacting (stupid ass grand father). it made grayson feel like he wasn't good enough.

after avery almost died during the bombing, he considered offing himself bc he didn't think he was worth it. he let one of the people he cares most about almost die, and the guilt was nearly too much for him.

grayson used to feel like he shouldn't be struggling the way he is bc of all of the opportunities and money he has. he felt like his feelings weren't valid, and that others had it worse. he tought he had no reason to feel as crappy as he did and that made him hate himself/think there was smth wrong with him. it only made him feel more depressed.

sometimes, he'd go on the rooftop of the house to get some air, see the height and the deadly fall, and consider jumping off. he used to think everyone was better off without him and that he'd be doing everyone a favor by offing himself.

in my first sad grayson post, i said that he owns a teddy bear nash gave him. he'll never admit it, but when he feels really anxious and like his world is crumbling down, he cuddles with it. it's one of the only things that actually helps him calm down. it also helps when he has a panic attack, he grabs it and holds it against his chest to relax (it also helps him sleep). the only one who knows about all of this is nash.

his anxiety tends to get worse during the winter cause he can't swim in the outdoor pool. its one of his most effective coping mechanisms. swimming in their indoor pool isn't the same according to him.

he used to hate christmas bc people would get him gifts he didn't think he deserved. he loved the gifts he'd receive but thought that people shouldn't be spending their money on him and that others were more worthy.

he used to see a therapist on and off for a while (in secret) when he was younger but would always end up stopping after his grandfather found out and told him he was wasting the therapist's time. he finally starts seeing a therapist consistently in his mid-20s (so after tgg and stuff).

#the inheritance games #grayson hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne

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silaswritesthings · 7 months

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“It’s like a disease, loving you, for you are all I can know.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Summary: Your life was hopeless and death was your salvation. Or at least, that’s what Dazai told you. Despite your reluctance to entertain his shenanigans you had come to depend on him. Living sucks but acknowledging that with another makes it suck a little bit less. Just a bit.

Starring: Dazai Osamu

Genre: romance

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, implied sexual relationship,

Author’s note: It’s technically the 13th according to some timezones… Happy valentine’s day to everyone! His character might be a bit oc, especially at the end. (Look, I tried my best) Likes, comments, reblogs and new followers will always be welcome as far as I know!!

Word count: 943 words

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“I don’t suppose that offer for double suicide is taken yet, right?” You murmured over the glass cup that pressed against your lips.

“I wonder what kind of damned situation you could possibly be in that made you come to accept my offer of all offers.” Dazai said, his own words muffled by his knuckles pressed against his lips.

You both stared at the bartender as he worked non-stop through various drink orders. The lights in the bar blurred into indistinguishable shapes and swayed side to side to the rhythm of the music that was playing.

“I’m feeling generous.” You said, no longer minding the slur of your voice after having a few drinks.

“You’re feeling drunk.” He replied, his eyes watching the ice melt in his whiskey. “I could lend an ear instead.”

“If I tell you what’s wrong, you will then see how pitiful I truly am and then take your offer back.”

He smiled. “I’m quite pitifull myself. I look up to those who can surpass me in that.”

The truth was, since you met Dazai things in your life did not get better. You had nobody then, and now all you had was the idiot you had hooked up with on a night you felt particularly lonely- but you’ve always have been alone. Maybe the best term to describe the way you felt that night was ‘being on the edge’, and Dazai pulled you in with his charm and pathetic shenanigans. Eventually, all that troubled you drowned in his presence and your anxieties felt smaller than they were for that night, and every other night you had spent with him. These moments with Dazai were the line between life and death for you.

“There’s nothing I can do for you.” Dazai said with conviction, after you explained your situation to him. You didn’t want his help, but him acknowledging that your problems are enough made your body relax. You took another shot.

“Of course there isn’t.”

———

The relationship between you and Dazai was unique. Live like the other doesn’t exist until the weekend, meet up at the bar, exchange your different experiences with existential dread, sleep together, go home and repeat.

It had been after three months of this routine when it you finally decided to break things off with Dazai. Through your unfortunate experiences with relationships; friends, family and lovers alike, you learned that when being with another person to any extent, you will get hurt.

The distance between the both of you on the bed could never reveal the intimacy you shared not even 10 minutes ago. You stared at the in-suite bathroom door in silence, your back facing Dazai as you ran through your thoughts to try find a way to begin the ‘break up’ talk. You weren’t even together officially. Dazai had… a reputation, and the last thing you needed was to reveal the true nature of your attraction to him. This distance was necessary to keep everything in check.

“We’ve been doing this for weeks and yet you still refuse to look at me once it’s done,” Dazai spoke from behind you.

“I don’t want to look at you.”

“But you’re in my bed-“

“Shut up.”

He let out a sound of amusement before running the tips of his fingers down the line of your spine. You focused on the sensation as he traced down your back, then he changed the direction of his touch and slid his arm around your waist, pulling you into the warmth of his chest. His forehead rested on the back of your neck and he resumed brushing his fingers against your skin.

“I prepared a gift for you.” He said, his tone held meaning beneath it but your unsettled heart did not leave you room to think.

“A gift?”

“The 14th of February is coming soon and I prepared something.”

You did not look forward to going back to your home. You much prefered jumping off the bridge you walk down on your way to your home than anything else but Dazai… prepared something for you? You cannot even say you and him had anything special, but your overgrown dependence (how could you dare define it as just dependence?) is what pushed you to looking forward to another day. Supposedly, that is what other people call ‘hope’, and how dare he try to force it onto you.

You stared ahead at the door, fingers twitching as you itched to push Dazai away and leave and never return again.

“I don’t want anything from you.” You lied. You tried to pull your body out of his embrace but he wouldn’t allow it.

"Not even the gift I had spent valuable time preparing?"

You couldn't answer. Dazai took your silence as affirmation and slid out of the bed. He moved around from behind you as you stared at the crumpled sheets beneath your palms and a few moments later, he was back beside you and handing you a small box wrapped neatly in shiny red gift wrapping.

“Open it,” he whispered, and after settling your nerves, you opened it.

It was a gun.

#silaswritesthings #bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai x you #please dont flop

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 1 year

Text

Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 21

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo X OFC Some Smut & Language- Minors DNI New as of 9/21/2023

SUPPORT YOUR CREATORS. REBLOGGING & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives.

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Quote: "Dieter. Don’t do this…please."

A/N: Chapter 21 is finally here! It's a beast coming in at 9k words. I have to give a massive thank you to @for-a-longlongtime for taking on the challenge of cleaning this mess up. Make sure you thank her for it! She worked some serious magic on it for me. Just a fair warning, this takes a super angsty turn. Get your cozy blanket and chocolate ready, because you might need it.

I was not prepared for how hard Dieter's absence would hit me once he had left to film in Canada. Spending time alone had never bothered me at any point in my life; but now without him, it felt like a piece of me was missing. I did my best to keep busy. When I wasn't working remotely, I continued the home improvement project at Dieter’s house or worked on various projects in my craft room.

Aside from two incidents, I had managed to avoid the lurking paparazzi. There were a few photos that had been snapped from a distance while I was out running errands that popped up on some fan pages; it was annoying, but the best way to handle it was to take it in stride and just remind myself that people were always watching. Luckily, no one had approached me directly; the public knowledge that Dieter was currently on set in Canada probably took a lot of the heat off me.

Fortunately, I had people in my life to help me cope with Dieter's absence. I spent several evenings with Lauren, catching up on gossip as we watched movies. The shop had been keeping her busy due to an employee shortage, and she was also exploring options to expand into the vacant unit next door. While I could see how that took up a lot of her time, I couldn't shake the feeling that she was holding things back from me. But whenever I asked her about it, she would wave it off and say everything was fine, as her phone continued to beep with a steady stream of text messages.

Gabby must have noticed that I had been feeling lonely, as she made a point to extend a longstanding dinner invitation at her house. While I enjoyed spending time with her and went to see her often, it didn’t do anything to dampen my feeling of loneliness. No one could fill that void except for her brother.

Communicating with Dieter brought on a new set of frustrations that I hadn’t expected. The remote location turned out to have a lot of signal issues, so it was hard for us to connect by texts or calls as often as either of us would have liked. I could tell that he tried to stay positive, but during the times that we were able to Facetime it struck me how tired he looked and sounded. Things were slowly wearing him down.

Two weeks into filming, during one of our few facetime calls, Dieter admitted that he had been feeling a little down and wasn’t getting enough sleep. The side effects of the medication had lessened, but so far it didn’t seem to offer him any relief from the issues that he struggled with. A local provider that he was referred to suggested that he start taking antidepressants. When he told me, I noticed how distant his eyes seemed as he spoke. “It’s fine. I’ll take them”, he said after a beat, his fingers absentmindedly tugging at the label on the bright orange container with pills. “I’m just dreading more side effects.” He had been unusually quiet during our call that evening. I could see weariness sunk into the lines on his face and couldn’t help the gnawing feeling that things were not all that fine.

The last few days before I was scheduled to fly out to Alberta passed by painfully slow. It made me restless, and I couldn't focus my energy on anything but the trip. I lost count of how many times I went through my packing list. Dieter seemed to be feeling the same way, sounding giddy during the times we were able to catch up over the phone. He had made sure to arrange a car that would pick me up at the airport. So, when I finally I landed at Edmonton International after a three-hour flight, I was relieved that I didn’t have to deal with the anxiety of transportation to get to the set.

As we drove several hours to get to the filming location, I saw the landscape changing from city views to remote swatches of land. Lush forests and more than a few wild animals caught my attention. With so few people, stores, and even power lines around, it wasn’t surprising that there had been such problems with getting a cell signal.

By the time I made it to their filming location, my back was absolutely killing me. I was happy to be climbing out of the vehicle. I was in the midst of stretching when Rylee came jogging over. Her hair was now black mixed with a deep purple color, which threw me for a minute. She gave me a wave and wide smile as she approached.

“He’s gonna be so fucking happy you’re finally here,” she announced as she pulled me in for a quick hug. “Actually, I’m fucking happy you’re here because I’m tired of his whining.”

I gave her a chuckle in response.

“What do I need to do with my bags?”

“We can put them in his trailer for now. Come on, I’ll help.”

As small as the trailers looked from the outside, I wasn’t expecting much. But I had to admit, I was pleasantly surprised. It was like a mini home on wheels.

“So, is he the only one who uses this trailer?” I asked as I looked around on the inside. The bed toward the back had caught my eye, because of course that’s where my mind immediately went to. Rylee gave me a knowing smile.

“I mean, do I need to put my bags out of the way or anything? I don’t wanna take up someone else’s space.”

I tried to recover. I’m not sure she bought it. I could feel my cheeks burning.

“He’s one of the stars of the show. So, yes, he’s the only one who should be in here aside from you or I, unless invited.”

I nodded, still trying to play it cool.

“Don’t worry, I’ll knock before I come in,” she added with a wink.

“No, no, that’s…that’s not why I was asking.” I shook my head as I spoke, feeling even more embarrassed.

“Don’t play coy, I’m not dumb.” A wide teasing grin spread across her face.

“Ok, ANYWAY, what now?” I interjected, trying to change the subject. That caused her to laugh harder. Once her laughs subsided to a manageable level, she responded.

“Now we go find your man and surprise him. I haven’t told him you’re here yet. He’s filming right now. They should be wrapping for a break soon.”

I followed Rylee down a long trail into a wooded area. We ended up near a large opening next to the river. I could see a lot of commotion up ahead where they were filming on the edge of the riverbank. We got close enough to watch, but far enough out of the way that I couldn’t be spotted. I didn’t want my sudden appearance to throw Dieter off.

They were filming a scene that included a heated exchange between several of the characters. It was amazing to watch him work. To see him turn the character on and off between takes was interesting. He could go from joking around and laughing to angry within seconds. I didn’t understand how he could do it so convincingly. On their third try, I noticed Dieter’s face shifted slightly mid-way through as one of the other male actors was speaking. It was an actual look of annoyance. He turned looking towards the director while everyone else looked confused. Someone called cut from the group behind the camera. Dieter looked back over at the other male actor, clearly frustrated.

“Can’t you just stick to the damn script? They told you to cut that shit out,” he said loudly to the other male actor.

It sounded like the guy responded with a comment about the lines feeling out of character. I couldn’t fully hear him since his back was facing our direction.

“If you have a problem with it, discuss it with the boss and the writers before we film. You're holding everyone up here.”

It looked like the guy may have flipped Dieter the bird, and I don’t think he meant it in the joking with your friends kind of way. Rylee looked at me and rolled her eyes, “That’s Tom. That guy has been a total douche. He thinks he’s more important than he actually is. He’s driving Dieter crazy with this stuff.”

“Yeah, he looks like a douche. Is Dieter always that direct with people?” I hadn’t noticed this before, but then again, I hadn’t been around him when he was working.

Rylee shook her head. “Can’t say I’ve witnessed it before, though I don’t blame him in this instance.” She hesitated for a moment. “He hasn’t been in the best mood though.”

We watched as they shot three more takes before a dinner break was announced. Everyone started to clear out of the area, except for one of the female actresses who approached Dieter. She was a petite brunette, and clearly attractive. She reached out to touch his upper arm as she spoke, obviously flirting with him. I couldn’t hear what she said, but Dieter looked at her with annoyance as he pulled his arm away and walked off. She didn’t look happy about his response, giving him a slight glare as she walked away with a huff.

I knitted my brows together over their exchange. Rylee noticed my expression.

“That’s been a whole thing. Chloe just won’t take a hint. Don’t worry, he’s been nothing but a dick to her.”

I laughed, “Well, maybe she’ll take the hint now that I’m here.”

I watched as Dieter wandered over to the edge of the riverbank, looking frustrated with his phone in hand. He seemed to be talking to himself, occasionally walking a few steps one way or the other with the device up in the air, like he was looking for a better signal. Rylee bumped her shoulder against mine.

“What are you waiting for? Go get your man before he loses his damn mind again over his phone not working.”

I chuckled before walking off in his direction, approaching him from behind. I could hear him muttering about his phone being a “piece of shit” as he tapped on the screen harder than necessary.

“What did that phone ever do to you?”

“It doesn’t fucking work half the time,” he replied curtly, his head bowed down as he continued to fiddle with the object of his frustration. A beat later, his fiddling paused as he raised his head, quickly turning toward me.

The instant his eyes locked with mine, he was moving, taking quick long strides over to me as the relief swept over his face. Before I knew it, he had wrapped his arms tightly around my waist and lifted me, spinning in a circle as he pressed his lips into mine with urgency. “Hi.” His voice croaked, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. I hugged him back around his neck as I returned the kiss with just as much enthusiasm. He lowered me to the ground, our embrace continuing with kisses between whispers of how much we had missed each other.

He pulled back, looking over my face as he reached to run his fingers through my hair. A small smile tugging at his lips.

My thumb traced the faint darkness under his eyes. I could see it even under all the makeup and dirt. My chest tightened at the thought of him not being able to sleep. I really hoped he wasn’t still having bad dreams, but I didn’t think he would tell me if he was.

We were brought back to reality when a few of the remaining crew members and Rylee started whopping and whistling at us, someone even yelling at us to get a room. We both burst out laughing but were also slightly embarrassed. I could already tell that being on the film set with Dieter was going to be an interesting experience.

He leaned into my ear, “How about we go somewhere a little more private?”

I nodded with a mischievous smile in return. We made a beeline for his trailer. Several people attempted to get his attention as he passed by, but he was having none of it. He waved them off and kept going, gently pulling me along as he held my hand.

We had barely made it into his trailer before he was kissing me and reaching for my belt buckle. I had to make him stop to shut the door properly behind him. It bounced back open twice before he finally gave it a couple of good tugs to fully latch it. He cursed at it under his breath while I laughed at him.

We undressed each other in record time before falling onto the bed in a mess of tangled limbs. Dieter settled in between my thighs as he reached down to rub between my folds. I grabbed his hand, stopping him as I shook my head.

“No, I need you now.”

He gave me a cocky grin as he moved to line himself up at my entrance. “As you wish.” He rested his forehead against mine as he entered slowly, giving me the opportunity to adjust to his size. Once he was in all the way, his movement briefly stilled, and a small whimper escaped his lips.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much, missed this, missed us.”

He kissed me deeply, his tongue tangling with mine as he started his movements again. His pace quickened, turning the sweet moment into one of raw need. Our sweaty bodies slid against each other as our movements became more frantic. We held on to each other tightly as his thrusts grew harder. We heard voices outside of the trailer, which briefly pulled our attention away from our activities. Dieter shook his head as if to dismiss it, then buried his face into my neck, muffling the noises he was making as he briefly covered my mouth with his hand to quieten the sounds still escaping my lips. I pulled his hand away and wrapped my legs around him as he resumed his quick, plunging movements. I could feel the tension building before coming undone around him. It took everything in me to stay quiet as I felt the rush of tingling electricity throughout my body. His thrusts grew more erratic as he felt me tighten around him. He soon spilled into me as he was rocked with his own orgasm.

He collapsed beside me, trying to catch his breath. I rolled over and cuddled into his side as he wrapped his arms around me and buried his face into my hair. We sat in silence. Within minutes, his breathing started to deepen as he fell asleep. I didn’t dare move. I didn’t want to wake him.

Thirty minutes or so passed when I heard crackling over a radio from somewhere in the trailer giving a twenty-minute warning for filming to resume. The sound didn’t disturb Dieter in the slightest. He was out cold. I hated to wake him, but knew I needed to. It took several shakes, but he finally woke up grumbling as he hugged me tighter. He finally rolled out of bed, and I followed. We quickly got dressed and attempted to make ourselves presentable.

“You look like a hot fucking mess,” I said as I eyed the smeared makeup on his face. It looked more like he had smeared and streaked the dirt on his face with his fingers rather than just being naturally dirty. He looked in the mirror and sighed.

“Oh well. Shit happens,” he shrugged before pulling me in for another kiss. A ten-minute warning crackled on the radio, followed by a knock on the door. Dieter moved to open it, allowing Rylee inside. She entered, then stopped, looking us both over with a smirk on her face.

She started laughing and shaking her head as she looked at Dieter more closely. She turned to me, “I think you may be hair and makeup’s worst nightmare.”

We all shook with laughter at her remark. There was no hiding it at this point, might as well laugh about it. Once we contained ourselves, Rylee held out a small bag.

“I figured you wouldn’t make it over to eat, so I grabbed some food for you. Dieter, walk and eat please. We gotta go.”

We thanked her as we headed out the door with sandwiches and drinks in hand.

Rylee was right, Dieter was swarmed by hair and makeup as soon as he got back to the filming location, and they were giving him a hard time about it. I made a mental note to avoid his face and hair in the future, or at least try to.

Filming went well into the early morning hours. I spent most of my time either watching them film or with Rylee showing me around. Once they wrapped for the night, we briefly stopped in at Dieter’s trailer to grab my bags, then a car took us to the secluded resort about thirty minutes away where the cast and crew were staying. We showered to rid ourselves of the outdoors which led to our second and third rounds of sex before crashing. Dieter didn’t seem to have any trouble falling asleep that night as our naked bodies lay tangled under the fluffy down duvet.

The 7AM alarm came early when you only managed to get about four hours sleep. We spent a few minutes in bed, just enjoying each other’s company and showering each other in affection. That was soon interrupted by Reylee’s call to make sure Dieter was awake and not “dicking around” because our car would be there soon. She held nothing back. Her filter worked about as good as mine.

We had to scramble to get ready to leave but managed to make it on time. Rylee met us in the lobby with coffee and muffins, which I was thankful for. Dieter’s muffin set untouched during the ride as he looked over his script. Rylee reminded him at least three times to eat. I eventually grabbed the muffin and shoved it into his mouth, which took him off guard.

“Well, that’s one way to do it!” Rylee said as we both snorted through laughter. Dieter didn’t seem to find it as funny. He looked slightly annoyed but took it from me and ate while he continued to look over his script.

Once we arrived, he immediately went off to hair and makeup. I wandered around to find a decent cell signal so I could use my mobile hotspot to get a little bit of work done. I found a nice spot at the top of a hill where I had a view of everyone at work filming. The cell signal would come and go, and I could now understand Dieter’s earlier frustrations. It seemed the remote area we were in was in the middle of a dead zone.

During the lunch break, I sat with Rylee as Dieter spoke with the director and producer about some scenes they would be filming soon. He was in pure chaos mode, a bundle of hyped-up energy, talking a mile-a-minute about an idea he had.

“He seems to be in better spirits now that you’re here,” Rylee said to me as I watched him gesture wildly with his arms.

“He actually got some sleep last night; I think that’s helped.”

“Yeah, and got rid of some of that pent up tension too, I’m sure.”

Rylee smirked as she took a sip of her water. I raised an eyebrow as it took me a minute to realize what she was referencing. Once I caught on, I rolled my eyes at her.

“You’re incorrigible. You know that? I think your filter might be more broken than mine.”

She beamed, clearly proud of herself. She glanced down at her watch, checking the time. The break was almost over, and he was still talking while everyone else around him finished up lunch.

“I swear, if he doesn’t start eating, I’m gonna choke him. I’ll be right back.”

I watched as Rylee went over to grab a plate of food and deposited it in his hands, giving him a chastising look as he took it from her. It didn’t faze him, he held it as he continued to talk.

She came to sit back down beside me.

“Has that been an issue with him, not eating?”

“Oh yeah, he gets wrapped up in the ��creative process’ and forgets to eat.”

“Has that always been a thing?”

“Yes and no. He seems a little worse than normal this time around. I just figured he was trying to keep himself busy, so he doesn’t think about being away from you.”

I gave her a small smile but didn’t say anything. It bothered me that he was skipping meals because I knew how much that man loved food.

“He’s been fine otherwise though…right?”

I’m sure she could see the concern etched on my face.

“Yeah, I mean, I know he hasn’t been sleeping well, which isn’t really new. He’s been a little moody, but otherwise ok.”

I felt bad for even asking, but I had a feeling he wasn’t going to be completely honest with me if he was having a hard time.

Dieter finally ended his conversation and came over to straddle the bench seat facing me on my right side as he set his food down on the table. His left hand immediately came up to rest in my hair at the base of my neck to pull me in for a quick kiss. Rylee again reminded him to eat because he only had fifteen minutes left. He rolled his eyes and stuffed half a sandwich in his mouth with his right hand, giving her a sarcastic look. I leaned my head over onto his left shoulder while he continued to run his fingers through my hair. He carried on eating with his other hand, occasionally speaking to Rylee between bites. For the first time that morning, his chaotic energy finally seemed to ease down slightly.

I was able to spend more time with Dieter that afternoon. He had a few breaks while they filmed scenes he wasn’t part of. We spent those breaks alone in his trailer. While a lot of that time included more intimate activities, we were perfectly content to just be in each other’s company while he went over the script or napped. Both of which he did while cuddled into my side as I ran my fingers through his curls and lightly scratched his scalp with my nails. He complained when I let him fall asleep because that meant he was losing time with me, but we both knew he needed it.

My third day went much like the previous. It was a routine we had settled into. Dieter’s overall mood seemed to have improved, and he looked more rested than he had when I first arrived. Rylee seemed happy about that since he was less grumpy and more compliant than he had been.

That evening, filming wrapped early. The cast and crew were planning to hit up a local bar to blow off some steam. Dieter wasn’t planning to go, but Rylee encouraged it. Mostly because she didn’t want to go alone. We humored her and said we would make an appearance, even though we both would have much rather been alone in our suite for the evening.

When we arrived, we found an open space at the bar. Dieter and Rylee took the two open bar stools while I opted to stand for a bit. Dieter sat facing me, with one arm leaned on the bar. I stood in between his open legs, leaning against his shoulder as his hand rested on my hip. Rylee ordered some sort of fruity mixed drink while we both asked for water. If he wasn’t going to drink, then I wasn’t either. Rylee surprisingly didn’t question it, which I appreciated.

There was a steady flow of cast and crew that came over to chat with us. They all seemed nice enough and were very welcoming toward me. Then there was Chloe…We had been there for about an hour when she made her way over to chat with Dieter. She was clearly a few drinks in as her speech was starting to slur slightly. She came up behind him, slowly snaking her arm around his shoulders while saying “hello handsome” in the best sultry voice she could muster. She did all this, even though he was sitting there with one of his arms around me. I felt him lean forward into me as he reached to remove her arm from his shoulder. I turned to meet her gaze, confused by her brazen actions. She stepped away, giving an obvious pout as she finally realized I was standing there. She tilted her head like she was trying to sort out a puzzle, then reached out her hand to shake mine.

“I’m Chole, I don’t think we’ve met. Are you like his sister or something?”

The look of shock and confusion that Rylee, Dieter, and I gave her had to be almost comical. Was she really that dumb or just being a bitch? Based on the clueless stare she was giving me; I was going with dumb.

Rylee muttered, “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” just loud enough that I could hear her over the loud background music. Dieter leaned forward, trying his hardest not to laugh.

“No, definitely not my sister. That would make all the sex we’ve had the last three days a little weird. She’s actually the love of my life and the only woman I’m currently interested in.”

He gave her a wide smile. It took everything I had in me to control the laughter that was threatening to burst out. Rylee nearly choked on her drink and made no attempts to hide her giggles.

Chloe’s eyes grew large as she took in his response. Her cheeks tinged with red. She gave a tight smile, nodding in understanding before she awkwardly turned to walk away. All three of us burst out laughing.

“I cannot believe you said that to her,” I said to Dieter through my chuckles.

“Just trying to get the point across. The girl is not good at picking up hints.” He sighed, still looking amused, but it was clear that her behavior had been bothering him for a while now. “She probably won’t remember it tomorrow anyway.”

Dieter got up to go to the bathroom, so I took his seat. Rylee and I continued to chat as she turned her back to the bar to look over the crowd, expressing her dismay over the lack of suitable options for a one-night stand. I sat facing her, leaning on the bar with my head propped on my hand, laughing at the disgusted look on her face. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Tom and a group of guys at the end of the bar. They were very obviously looking our way, their lingering eyes occasionally being a bit too blatant. Internally, I was rolling my eyes and hoping they didn’t cause any trouble. I was startled by Dieter speaking up loudly from behind me, his voice tense and words clipped.

“The fuck you looking at?”

I turned to face him; he was clearly looking in the direction of Tom’s group. I didn’t see their reaction, but Dieter seemed satisfied after a moment as I reached to grab at his shirt and pull him over to me. I was attempting to distract him to avoid any further drama.

“Don’t pay any attention to them, they’re clearly drunk.”

He couldn’t stop a huff falling from his lips as his arms slid around my waist, eyes focused on mine. “Yeah well, they don’t need to be staring at you two like that,” he muttered.

“Don’t worry about it D., I think we can handle them,” Rylee added with a serious tone.

After a short while, the group got up and left the bar area. Dieter followed them with his eyes as they retreated to the upstairs area of the establishment. Once they were gone, he visibly relaxed within a few minutes, seeming to have forgotten about the exchange. He continued to chat with some crew members sitting close to us as Rylee pulled me out to dance. I felt a little out of my element. I was typically a few drinks in before I ever took to the dance floor, but I tried to let loose a little and have fun with her. I could see Dieter still seated at the bar, keeping a close eye on us, and occasionally smiling at our antics when our eyes met.

We were a few songs in when I felt someone come up behind me and wrap their arms around my waist. I immediately stiffened because I knew it wasn’t Dieter. When I turned to push them away, I saw it was one of the guys who had been in Tom’s group earlier. This was not going to go well. I tried my hardest to get rid of him before Dieter noticed, but he absolutely would not go away and only continued to get more handsy as I continued to resist. Rylee stepped in to intervene and he pushed her away, before grabbing onto my ass. I pushed away again, more roughly this time as I moved to walk away. When I turned, Dieter was right there in front of me, his eyes blazing with anger. Rylee and I had to step in to block him as he was about to throw a punch at the guy's face.

“Hey, hey, hey. Stop. Stop it!” I yelled as I hooked my arm around his when he was mid swing. There was no doubt in my mind that he could take the guy, but a fight was the last thing he needed. Especially with how short his fuse already seemed to be lately. Rylee was pushing backwards on Dieter’s chest while he yelled obscenities at the guy, who just stood there with a smug look on his face. It clearly only enraged Dieter more, causing him to keep pushing back against us to get to the guy.

“Dieter, stop it! It’s ok, I’m ok.”

“It’s not fucking ok. He has no right to touch you like that.”

“No, he doesn’t but we can deal with it another way. Just not like this, please.”

“You can kiss your fucking job goodbye. Don’t even show up tomorrow,” Dieter yelled toward the guy who shouted a quick, “Fuck you,” back at him.

Rylee and I pushed him toward the exit. Once outside, she called for our driver to pick us up. Dieter took off without a word and headed down the street, taking long strides as he seemed oblivious to his surroundings. The set of his shoulders was tense and tight, and I noticed his hands clench into fists repeatedly as he got further away from us. I moved to follow him, but Rylee stopped me.

“Just give him a minute.”

I bit my lip as I watched him disappear from sight. I took a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. “Does he always fly off the handle like that?” I knew the answer before I had finished asking the question. During the time we had spent together in the past several months, I had never seen him respond in that way. He had never attempted to hit anyone or verbally attack them with anger. As pissed as he was when we ran into Justin, he stayed perfectly calm through that entire exchange.

“Like that? No. But I assume it’s just because it had to do with you,” Rylee responded.

A few minutes later our car pulled up and Dieter still hadn’t returned. We instructed the driver to head in the same direction he had walked earlier, hoping that we would find him. I spotted him sitting on a bench with his head in his hands and told our driver to pull over. Once the car was parked, I got out and walked over to the bench, taking a seat next to him. When he didn’t look up, I started rubbing slow circles on his back with my hand.

“You ok?”

He shook his head from side to side before sitting up straight, inhaling deeply as he looked around at nothing. His face was tense. I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or distress. He wouldn’t look at me.

“Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

He shook his head from side to side again while trying to control his breathing. His leg started to bounce as he continued to stare, unblinking, the dissociation palpable in the air. I felt like he was fighting off a panic attack. After hesitating for a moment, I stood up and climbed onto his lap, my legs straddling his thighs. I forced him to look at me, grabbing one of his hands and holding it to my chest as his eyes locked with mine. With my free hand, I reached for the hair at the base of his neck and rubbed him gently, just like I had done after the Anna incident. Immediately his body language changed, and I felt him lean into my touch, a barely audible sigh escaping from his lips.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

He shook his head slowly, searching for words. “I just… couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I dunno. I think I blacked out for a minute.” He looked away as another sigh broke free from him. “I don’t even know what just happened.”

I pulled him in and hugged tightly around his shoulders. He buried his face into the crook of my neck as his breathing slowed. He held onto me tightly. I could feel the occasional twitching in his right hand.

“I’m sorry, I know I could’ve handled that differently,” he said eventually, his breath warm against the curve of my shoulder. “I just kinda snapped when I saw him grab you like that.”

I pulled back to look at him, running my fingers through the side of his hair.

“You’re fine. I understand why you were upset.” I leaned in, giving him a lingering kiss on his lips, then rubbed my nose against his.

“How about we head back to the resort and forget about this mess.”

He let out a small sigh before nodding in agreement. He stood as he kept his hand pressed against the small of my back, lifting me with him before gently depositing my feet on the ground. I took his hand, leading him in the direction of where the car had parked.

True to his word, Dieter made a few calls the next morning before we got to set. The guy, whose name turned out to be Craig, was fired. They didn’t want someone like that around, for obvious reasons.

We fell back into our routine after the incident at the bar. My remaining days with Dieter were passing by quickly, which only seemed to bring his mood down. He was spending less time preparing for filming and more time with me during his breaks. We never spoke of how much time we had left, but I could tell it was always at the forefront of his mind. It was clear in the way he would cling to me when we were alone, how he would also avoid any conversation about when I would eventually be flying home. I had given up on getting any of my remote work done during the last two days; the work mattered, but faded in importance compared to being present there with him. On top of that, the cell signal issues persisted, so I opted to take some time off for those days instead. It meant I got more time to watch Dieter in action. I was able to be near him, just off camera the entire time. He took full advantage of my presence between takes, coming over for an affectionate touch or kiss when he was able.

On the morning of my flight to LA, he woke me before either of our alarms went off. I had barely opened my eyes before I felt his hands roam over my body, his lips soft and warm as he trailed kisses down my neck from behind. Once I turned over towards him, his motions turned near frantic almost immediately as he met my lips for a deep kiss, his fingers sliding between my thighs where he found I was ready for him. Our kisses were urgent, our touches insistent. It was almost like we couldn’t get close enough. With the quick pace that he set from the beginning, neither of us lasted long. As soon as he felt me coming undone, he followed. He stayed propped above me, with his elbows on either side of my head, kissing me in between brief moments of letting his eyes dance across my face. I could feel him lightly threading my hair through his fingers.

“I’m not sure how many more times I can tell you goodbye like this. I fucking hate it.” His brows knitted together as he spoke. The emotion was clear on his face. He looked like he was about to break. I reached up to tangle my hands in his messy curls.

“I know baby, I do too. It’s just for four weeks though, then you get to come home for a few days.”

I tried my hardest to sound positive, but every fiber of my being was screaming in protest. Something felt off. Something was telling me to stay with him. I felt a tear slide down the side of my face while I fought with those emotions. I knew I was just being irrational because I didn’t want to be away from him. He wiped the tear away with his thumb and leaned down to kiss me, gently.

We were interrupted by the alarm on his phone going off. He reached over to grab it from the nightstand with a protesting groan as he pulled out of me. He turned the alarm off and set the phone next to my head as he settled above me again, continuing to kiss me deeply. But once again we were interrupted by his phone; it was Rylee with her usual morning call to make sure he was awake. He finally sat up to answer it. I could hear her reminding him of my flight details before he cut her off to say we had it all under control and he would see her later. He wasn’t usually so terse with her, so it surprised me a little. After he hung up, he let out a loud sigh and got up to go toward the shower.

I sat in bed a little longer before joining him, taking a moment because I could feel the panic rising in my chest. The little voice in my head kept screaming at me to stay with him. I needed to pull it together, for him. Me being upset was only going to make him more anxious. I finally drug myself up out of the bed to go shower. We both rushed to get ready. He had to leave before I did, but I still needed to pack up.

When I came out of the bathroom after drying my hair and getting dressed, Dieter was sitting at the edge of the bed with his elbows propped on his knees and palms rubbing at his eyes. When he looked up at me, his eyes were red and glossy.

“My car is here.”

I inhaled a deep breath and gave him a nod as I walked toward him. I pulled him into a tight hug.

“You’re gonna be so busy, the time will fly by. You probably won’t even notice I’m gone,” I said into his neck. He scoffed.

“I think we both know that’s not true.”

I gave him a tight smile as I pulled away to look him in the eye, “You call me when you’re having a hard time, yeah?”

He looked down and away from me as he gave me a small nod. His phone pinged, no doubt it was Rylee telling him to hurry it up. He leaned in for one last kiss before leaving.

I stood for some time, staring at the door I had just watched close behind him. I kept having a feeling in the pit of my stomach that this might be the last time I would see him, and it was freaking me out. It took everything in me to push those thoughts away so that I could focus on packing and making my flight.

In the days that followed, he called every time he was able, but most of our communication was done via text message. Which I knew he absolutely hated. About a week after I got home, there was a full day that I didn’t hear from him. I started to get a little worried, until I got a text message from Rylee later that evening saying that Dieter’s phone was broken, and he would call me from her phone later.

It was near midnight when my phone finally rang. I had been lying in bed for an hour, wide awake, hopeful that he was going to call. I know the relief had to be obvious in my voice when I answered.

“Please tell me you didn’t throw your phone into the river because it wouldn’t work.”

Dieter laughed, “No, actually I threw it at a stone wall because it wouldn’t work. It’s in pieces.”

I was a little taken aback by his response. I had only been joking.

“Dieter, that’s a little excessive.”

“Yeah, but it made me feel better for a few minutes.” He cleared his throat, voice slightly hoarse as fatigue laced through his words. “Until I realized I couldn’t text or call you at all after that.”

I wasn’t sure how to react to that. It seemed a little out of character for him.

“Rylee ordered another phone for me. It should be here tomorrow.”

“Well, at least you’ll get a replacement quickly.”

“Yeah, I’ll try to not break this one,” he said with a small laugh.

His voice sounded off. I wasn’t sure why, but it did.

“Are you doing ok?”

He took a moment to respond and I heard him gulp down something to drink. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? I’m fan-fucking-tastic.”

“Is that sarcasm?”

“No. I’m fine.” More drinking sounds, then a sigh. “I mean, I miss you and I’m tired. That’s nothing new though.”

The phone disconnected with a beep. I got a text a minute later.

DIETER: Sorry, lost fucking signal again. Talk to you tomorrow. Love you.

“This fucking sucks,” I huffed out loud to myself. I sent him a quick goodnight text and tried to go to sleep.

In the weeks that followed, I could tell something was going on with Dieter when he would call. He always insisted that he was fine, and it was just all the usual things bothering him. However, he seemed to be growing more distant. The calls and texts were becoming fewer and farther between. It was making me beyond anxious. I was having a hard time focusing on anything, including work. I spent a lot of my time alone, staring at the tv without having any idea what was happening on the screen. I avoided talking to Lauren and Gabby because I knew they would sense something was up, and I wasn’t sure where to even begin explaining my concerns without violating his privacy.

After going a day and a half without hearing from him, I called Rylee to see if he was ok. She said he was normal during filming. Maybe even a little more excitable and obnoxious than usual. She added that he did seem somewhat withdrawn when it was just the two of them though. I asked her to call me if things didn’t improve with him. He was due to come home for a break in one week, so I was hopeful he would snap out of whatever funk he was in.

Around 10 PM that same evening, my phone lit up with an incoming call from Rylee. I suddenly felt sick. I knew something was wrong.

“Rylee?”

It took a moment before I heard her voice, as static and background noises seemed to drown her out at first. “Ummm, so Dieter is absolutely losing his shit on Tom right now. Do you think you can try to calm him down?” I had never heard Rylee truly agitated, but this time her voice was tense, laced with panic and concern.

My heart felt like it was beating in my throat as I gripped the phone tighter. “I can try- yes, of course. What happened?”

The screaming of two men in the background became louder, as if the phone was turned towards their direction, and I wondered if that was Rylee’s way of offering some further insight.

“Why can’t you just do what you’re fucking told? You’re gonna get someone fucking killed doing that shit,” Dieter yelled, his voice loud and distressed, the sound of it immediately conjuring up a visual of him with clenched fists and dark eyes like he had been that night at the bar.

“Fuck you man, go have a drink and calm the fuck down,” Tom spat back at him.

“Fuck you dude, she just almost got hurt because of you. You’re an asshole,” Dieter said with indignation.

“Guys! Stop yelling. Take a break,” a third male voice interrupted.

“I don’t know, something about a stunt that didn't go well. I didn’t see it, so I’m not sure. Hold on.”

I could hear Rylee trying to get Dieter’s attention away from Tom, telling him I was on the phone.

“Did you fucking call her?” He sounded pissed and combative, which was not a tone he normally took with her.

She didn’t answer his question. “Talk to her please.”

I could hear the phone jostling around before he answered, his voice still sounding gruff, “Yeah, what is it?”

“What is it?” For a moment I was stunned and didn’t know how to respond at how he snapped at me. “That’s how you're answering? What’s going on?”

He ignored my question and instead fired off one of his own, tension in his words. “Did she call you?”

I hesitated. I didn’t want to get Rylee in trouble.

“No, I called because I haven’t heard from you in almost two days. I wanted to check in.”

He scoffed. “Check in? I’m a grown ass man, I don’t need you two babysitting me.”

“Whhaa? No. That’s…that’s not what I…”

“Look, I’m busy,” he interrupted me before I could say more. “The stunt coordinator needs me. I’ll call you later.”

I was shocked into silence. I didn’t know how to respond. He had never spoken to me like that before.

Rylee got back on the phone, sounding clearly uncomfortable as she must have overheard Dieter. “Heeeey, umm. I don’t even know what to say. That was weird.”

“I don’t know what to say either. I think… I’m gonna come back up there. Maybe it’s because he’s not sleeping.”

Rylee seemed to sigh in relief, but quickly recovered. “I’ll get a flight set up for you.”

“No, I can do that. Just, keep him out of trouble. I’ll see if I can get one for tomorrow.”

We hung up after that. I had to take a minute to pull myself together. I couldn’t let myself fall apart right now. Once I had a minute to gather my thoughts, I walked to my home office and fired up my desktop so I could start looking at flights. It was near 1:30 AM when my phone started ringing on my desk, it was Dieter. I was honestly surprised that he called.

“Hello.”

“Hey.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to him after our earlier exchange. I was hurt and upset with him. For a moment there was silence between us, but then Dieter cleared his throat as he finally spoke.

“I think we need to talk.”

I had that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I felt like I was going to be sick. Those words were never good.

“I just booked a flight”, I said, trying to not grip the phone even harder than I was already doing, just to have something to hold on to. “I’m gonna come back up there tomorrow.”

“I don’t want you to do that.” His voice was tight as he strained to get the words out. It almost hurt me to listen. He didn’t sound right, not like this. Not like the Dieter I had known over the past months.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t think this is working. It’s…”, he seemed to search for words. I could hear him moving things around; something scraping over a hard surface, the sound of ice cubes in a glass. “It’s a burden and it's inconvenient. Just don’t waste your time.” His speech sounded slightly slurred.

I took a deep breath to calm myself as I leaned my forehead against my hand that was propped on my desk. “Dieter. Don’t do this…please. Have you been drinking?”

“That doesn’t matter. I told you; I don't need you to babysit me.”

“I’m not, I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on with you.”

He took a deep breath as if bracing himself. “Look, where we’re filming, you’re not gonna be able to work,” he said, words rushing this time. “Aubrey isn’t gonna keep putting up with you taking time off. It’s not gonna work. It’s just not working.”

“What does that even have to do with anything?”

“Nothing, it just compounds the problem.” I could hear ice clinking against glass followed by him swallowing gulps of a beverage.

I shook my head, frustration and fear both thumping hard within my chest. “And what is the problem exactly?”

“We’re incompatible. We shouldn’t have to rearrange our lives to be together. It’s not fair to either of us.”

“What happened to doing whatever it takes to make this work?”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure I said I’d do whatever it takes to make you happy and I am,” he nearly snapped at me, following it up with some words in Spanish that sounded like a curse. “You’ll thank me for it later.”

“No, you said you were all in for this. You’re just gonna give up because it’s hard? Because it's a fucking burden to you?”, I said in disbelief. I leaned back in my chair, shaking my head. I could feel anger bubbling to the surface at his comment. “You think it’s been easy for me? I thought we were in this together. Why do you think you get to choose for me? Let me come up there so we can talk through this.”

“You’re not listening, I don’t have time for you right now.”

“Are you using drugs or something?”

“Why does everyone keep fucking asking me that?!?!”, he yelled in frustration. I could hear him throwing things around in the background. “No, I haven’t used drugs in a long fucking time. I’m completely aware of what I’m doing and saying.”

“Maybe it has to do with the way you're acting. Did you ever consider that? And I’m sorry for fucking caring.”

“Look, I don’t know what else to say. It’s not working, ok? We tried and it didn’t work. There are better options that are less work. No more burdens or inconveniences.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I need you out of my mind. There’s too much going on with it. It’s a burden.”

He just kept talking in circles. Half of it sounded like nonsense.

“What are you even saying? You’re not making sense.”

“I’m saying we’re done,” he interrupted me, his words sharp and feeling like they were stabbing right into my heart. “I can’t do it anymore. Does that make sense?”

I inhaled sharply, realizing he was set on his decision. My head was pounding, too many moments flashing through my mind as I tried to hold it together. I tried to sort out my thoughts to understand how we suddenly had gotten to this, and how to get through to him without being pushed away.

“Why did you have to find me? I would’ve been fine if you’d just let me fucking go after New York,” I finally whispered.

My voice shook as I spoke. The tears started to fall from my eyes in a way that I had never before experienced. My vision was completely blurred by it. Dieter had gone silent on the other end of the phone, so quiet that I could barely hear him breathe. The line hadn’t disconnected, so I knew he was still listening. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing me fall apart, so I hung up.

I stood, making my way to the bedroom. I crawled into bed and bawled my eyes out. I did so until the early morning glow started to show around the edges of the curtains. When I realized the new day was making itself known, I felt livid that I stayed up all night crying over him. Determined to find sleep, I got up and went to the kitchen in search of alcohol. I knew I had a few bottles hidden away. I found what I was looking for shoved to the back of one of the upper cabinets. I went straight for the hard liquor. Taking a few swings as I headed back to bed. I didn’t plan on getting wasted, I just wanted enough to knock me out so I didn’t have to think about him anymore. I settled back into bed and shot Aubrey a quick text to let her know I was going to take a few days off. I gave no explanation, and she didn’t question me. Once the alcohol had time to kick in, slowing my racing thoughts and helping me relax, I finally fell asleep.

A/N: All right ya'll... so that happened. Our sweet Dieter is officially in full spiral mode and it's about to get a little crazy for both of them.

Questions to consider:

What do you think is going on with Dieter?

How are we feeling about his behavior?

How long do you think this spiral has been building?

How do you think Talia is going to handle this turn of events?

How are you feeling about the new characters? (Rylee, Tom, Chole)

Predictions?

Once you have had a minute to digest and share your thoughts for this chapter, jump on over to this post for part one of Deconstructing Dieter Bravo. This is a companion series I plan to do for the remaining chapters so that we can get a little more insight into what's going on in that mind of his. 😉

The chapter playlist and mood board are included below.

Next Chapter

Tag List: @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @for-a-longlongtime @hisandsnakes @chaoticfestninja @survivingandenduring @partyofone3413 @cakipy-blog @pedrostories @titlee78 @poodlebae @guelyury @weho2kcmo

Let me know in the comments below if you would like to be added to the tag list.

#dieter bravo #pedro pascal #dieter x ofc #dieter bravo fic #Destiny & Deliverance Series #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo x ofc #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro Pascal Fanfic #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #the bubble #Spotify

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theindescribable1 · 8 months

Text

Getting Better!

Tw: A vent

. . . But with a happy ending!

((LONG LONG READ...eat some popcorn while you're reading. Idk, uhh enjoy? I cried writing this so it might be sad))

BUT WITH A HAPPY ENDINGGG!

The Bad Stuff:

If you've known me for a while, you'd know that I have been dealing with some rather intense depression and anxiety. I spent a good chunk of my young childhood feeling down and sad all day, I had trouble sleeping, I had issues. I kept all my feelings bottled up for years, it only made me feel angry and I was rude to people I loved. I spent most of my days alone in my room, never wanting to be around my family. I think my depression started getting worse when I was 8 or so? My sister was diagnosed with a brain tumor, she had cancer. I thought she'd die, I was so scared and in so much sorrow. My parents brushed my aside for a few years while my sister battled cancer. I wasn't really a main priority, I felt like I didn't matter anymore. Everything started to be all about my sister, I felt more alone then ever. My parents spent all day with my sister, treating me almost like I didn't matter for the time being. After my sister successfully beat Cancer, it felt like things were never fair for me. She never got in trouble, I always got the blame for things, she never really had to work or do any chores, but I did. It all just felt like favoritism. It made me feel less loved, less respected, and I just couldn't tell my parents how I was feeling. I felt a hate towards my parents, they didn't find ways to praise me, or give me a simple "good job" I just wanted some slight praise, someone to tell me I'm doing good. It seemed as if my parents never cared for the good I did, but they cared when I got something wrong. They scolded me for doing something wrong, it made me feel as if I had to be perfect, as if I couldn't make a single mistake. I believed that I didn't matter to them, I believed that no one would miss me when I'm gone. That's when the suicidal thoughts came in, I would think to myself; "I am unloved, what's the point of even trying? Carrying on in a world where I just don't matter.." And I would see myself committing acts of suicide, I thought about what would happen. What just made things worse was how hard I found it to make friends, it seemed like no one gave me a chance. Every school I went to, I was always made the subject of fun. I never did anything to deserve it! I did nothing wrong! Why was it always me? Why did everybody just naturally hate me? I was left out if every single friend group, I was never included in projects, I never had a partner to work with, I was always the last one picked to be in a team, everyone always just treated me like dirt. I just wanted to die, for so long I just wanted to leave this unfair and cruel planet. I just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. I was always so stressed, lonely, keeping everything bottled up, telling everyone that I was ok. Keeping everything to myself just gave me headaches, anxiety, stress, anger, and I just couldn't keep my anger to myself. It was becoming more and more difficult. School has always been so difficult for me, bullies, crappy teachers, and I never understood what they were teaching. The entire class was always ahead of me, I never knew how to do anything! I felt so stupid and I had no one to ask for help, I procrastinated every single thing... so many thoughts ran through my head; "I'm so stupid. I'm a loser. No one loves me. I have no friends. Everyone just hates me. Why me why me why me? I just don't want to be here anymore..." All my life up to now, I have always been brushed aside and left with my fake smile. I tried to talk to my parents about what is happening with me, but the first time I tried my mom said; "You don't have depression. You really don't! Just because you feel sad ONCE doesn't mean you're depressed! Look at all that you have! You have nothing to be sad about." It doesn't matter what I have, it matters how I feel! I felt sad and lonely all the time, all day, all night. I was scared to tell my parents again because I just thought they'd brush it aside as me just being "dramatic" and on top off aaaalll of this, my grandpa died and it caused lots of pain.

Things Start Getting Brighter:

I was at a doctor's appointment when I decided that I'd try again... I explained everything to my mom and she started to cry and gave me a big hug. She told me that she'll sign me up for a therapist! That's when I saw hope, a light at the end of a long dark tunnel. I thought to myself; "I'll get better...I'm going to be healed. I'm going to be ok. I'm finally help." After that day, my family started spending time with me, they came into my room more and gave me love. I felt happier, but still not cured- eventually I went in to the first session of counseling! My dad sat next to me for the first couple minutes while the counselor talked to him, I heard him say at one point that he was proud of me, and I couldn't hold back tears. Its because I don't hear those words much...I feel as if no one ever tells me that they are proud of me. . After my dad left, I immediately started to blurt out EVERYTHING. I just went off telling the counselor all the past things, I burst out into tears. I let everything out of the bottle. She could almost immediately diagnose me with some rather intense depression. She gave me advice, things to do, and since then I got a bit better..

So Close To Happiness:

I started to work on loving myself, treating myself to good things! I talked to myself positively! Then I decided I should restore bonds with my family but starting some family game nights and movie nights! Me and my family would play some games together on Wednesday, and movies on Friday! As of right now, I'm in a D & D campaign with my family, uncle, and my uncle's friend! Its going great so far, I'm having fun! I'm getting much closer to my family, I feel loved! I feel appreciated! My family plain as day care about me. I love them, they love me. And I started socializing more, I talked to more people, made a friend group, and I began to hang out with more family outside of my main family of 4. I talked to my cousins more often and got much closer to Carol! I had an online friend who I liked to call Goblin, and we decided to meet in real life. Once they gave me their address, I realized. . .We're neighbors!!!?? We lived in the same neighborhood, so I ran over to their house and they ran out the door, we greeted each other in a fit of laughter. We were online friends for 2 or so years and never knew we were 3 or so minutes away from each other! They are also know as The GGT is that's familiar to you! I was less of an introvert, I had more fun, more friends, many more happy memories! Oh and it got great when I got a lil app called Tumblr. I socialized even more and started getting to doing art! I had a goal, to be popular, to ve somebody of slight importance... well I've just got to say. . Thank you for over 700 followers! I love you all so much and you made my dreams come true! You are all my motivation, my reason to keep on going, my great friends! All of youuuu! I love you all so much! And to this day, I haven't felt really sad, alone, unhappy, I haven't thought about ending my life, in fact...I WANT to live, I want to keep on waking up. I want to continue to see the sun everyday, I want to continue on! I don't want to leave, life is beautiful to me now, I see the good in it all, I know that God has good plans for me, and I will wait for paradise, not skip right to it. I want to live every second of my life, I want to continue to love, laugh, smile, and be will those who love me. I want to accomplish my dreams, to have a good life with many memories.

I love you all, and if you are dealing with some bad things, just remember that there is always someone to talk to, to love you, to understand you.. And I'm one of those! You can talk to me, I'll understand you, and I will always do whatever I can to help you. Live your life, its beautiful...I used to see it has painful, lonely, unfair, dark, and depressing...but truly it isn't. Life is beautiful, and so are all of you.

Stay alive, I love you. I love you all.

#Vent #happy ending #Getting better #i love you all #stay alive #you matter #you are all so beautiful #overcoming trauma #overcoming depression

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borderlinereminders · 1 month

Note

this might be too personal/complicated/heavy for you to answer, no problem at all if you just delete this ask

tw: suicidal ideation

I have no idea to who and how it is okay to talk to about suicidal thoughts. I'm not looking for help, I'm coping well at the moment, it's just really really lonely to keep quiet about something that feels so big and i would like to have someone to share my problems with, but I am very scared to overburden people like i used to do and make them worried for my life every time i retreat and disappear for a while.

It looks like I'm not getting any therapist in the next couple years. I tried to talk to a psychiatric nurse about this when I was in a clinic, but she made that conversation about why im afraid to tell others, implying that the negative consequences I see are mostly just anxiety. Which, uh, they are definitely not and that conversation was pretty discouraging.

I'm trying my best and for the moment I'm doing pretty well, but I don't believe that I'll get old. I'd like to talk about that to some close friends, but it seems like a way too big emotional burden to put on someone who would probably blame themselves if something does happen. I don't have a diagnosis yet, so I don't know if I could access self help groups either.

It would be nice if you could share how you would handle this and your thoughts?

Either way, thank you for your work<3

Hi anon!

How I’ve dealt with this is I’ve sat down and had the hard conversations with my loved ones about what their boundaries are and what mine are.

Some of my friends will ask me if I’m in a head space for a heavy topic before telling me things. That’s a really respectful thing to do! Certain people, like my best friend, have my consent to just dump whatever in a text to me or call me at any time with a heavy topic. I have different rules for different relationships.

Talk to your friends about these feelings of being unsure what’s okay to share. It’s so valid to be unsure but I honestly find people appreciate being approached and asked what’s okay. Maybe you can come up with some guidelines together. Each relationship is different and each person has their own boundaries. There’s no one answer.

#suicidal ideation #April answers

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dangerously-human · 1 month

Text

The thing about this week's primary doctor appointment is I did walk out with almost everything I asked for - a referral for sleep testing, an appointment for blood work to get back on my existing meds, a suggestion for a nutritionist to meet with as a first step to sorting out my recurrent weight issues (I do not trust that field and the likelihood that I'll go is pretty low, but we'll see), even a script for Strattera... but based on the doctor's reticence and tbh kind of nastiness around the Strattera, I don't know if I should actually take it. The thing is that nothing in this world scares me worse than a depression relapse. I can do minor ones, I do those all the time in fact, but the idea of that as a med side effect scares the shit out of me, because now we're putting me back in the place I was when I was on antidepressants, you feel? And I'm very very scared of the effects of going off of mental health meds - knowing that I usually can't stay on anything consistently - having done my fair share of suicidal spins in college accidentally going off SSRIs cold turkey. And then when I tried to express that and ask what I should do to keep an eye out for it, and she said I should just be able to tell if my mood gets bad and I said well listen, I know I have a history with anxiety and depression and being autistic, I don't always notice a change right away, for her to then say, you have to be in therapy again, and you should probably go back on Lexapro, and probably your symptoms are just depression and I shouldn't even be giving you Strattera in the first place, that's when I really melted down. So you can understand where I might be a tinge concerned about taking this. Even though I actually think it will make my life a lot more manageable, on multiple fronts. Even though I'm old enough that the risk of depression as a side effect isn't so high anymore, and in fact this medicine works as a low-level antidepressant anyway. Even though I've gotten much better at staying on meds where there will be an immediate impact to quitting - I haven't had any issues with propranalol, for instance, just the ones that need blood work. And I guess, even though I'm scared, I'm also really excited by the prospect of being able to focus again in a way I haven't had for 10+ years, and maybe even keeping up with life outside of work and school. If I treat the ADHD, theoretically it would become much easier for me to stay on top of all my meds anyway. My mom suggested that I make an appointment with my old therapist to ask for her advice, and she also thought I should get back on thyroid meds first to see how that helps my attention - but the executives were dysfunctioning even before I went off that, and also it'll take a couple months for the Strattera to kick in, which would be minimally helpful for grad school purposes if I don't start now. So, where does that leave me? Idk, honestly. I guess the first step is just to pick up all my pills from the pharmacy, and then I think and pray about whether and when to take them. I wish I had a doctor I trusted enough that this didn't feel like a big decision.

#personal

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eva-knits12 · 11 months

Text

CE characters discovering you have depression and anxiety

Trigger warning: depression and anxiety. If you feel the need to commit suicide, contact 988 (previously 1-877-273-8255, this will work for some time), or call 911 immediately! Trust me, there is help out there, and there is no shame in asking for help. Things might seem hopeless now, and you feel helpless, and devoid of all energy and life, and you feel like everything hurts, everyone has abandoned you, everyone has turned on you, etc., please know that you are not alone. As I've explained, there is help out there, and there's no shame in asking for help.

Colin Shea:

Colin sees you crying, curled up in a ball.

"I just can't do this...I just can't do this..."

Colin puts his arms around you, and holds you, and rocks you.

Colin tells you everything will be okay, and that you'll get through this.

Colin serenades you with his own songs, and some of his favorites.

Later, he creates a playlist for you.

A few days later, you have an anxiety attack.

Colin tries to help, but he doesn't know how.

He encourages you to see a therapist.

Your doctor and your therapist put you on an antidepressant.

You start seeing your therapist regularly, and take your medicine every day.

You slowly start becoming the old you.

Colin and you spend time together, as you've both been neglecting things lately.

Colin also sees a therapist in order to help you with your depression.

Colin has helped you get better.

Ransom Drysdale:

Ransom has never dealt with this before.

He sees you upset, crying, and shaking.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

You explain that you lost your job, and you're not sure if you can go on anymore.

Ransom doesn't know what to do here.

He looks like a lost puppy.

He tries to help you.

He calls 911 and gets you to the hospital.

You're put in psychiatric care.

Ransom calls you every day, and comes on visiting day during visiting hours.

He brings you a stuffed teddy bear.

He even brings you some clothes, making sure that none of them have strings, and he even brings you a pair of slippers, making sure that they don't have strings.

(Trust me, when you're undergoing a psych eval., the people in the psych ward aren't screwing around with this! No strings, no keys, no razors. I wasn't even allowed to have my knitting because the knitting needles were considered weapons.)

You start to get better, because you're not only getting help, talking, and taking an antidepressant and antianxiety meds,

Ransom helps find you one of the best therapists in the area.

You start getting better because you're finally opening up about what you've been through.

Ransom holds you every night and every morning.

He can't let you go, and he knows that you're still fragile right now.

"You're getting so much better and so much stronger every day."

"I'm proud of you."

Ransom starts seeing a therapist, too as a way to help you and to talk about his past, and as a way to help deal with his crazy family.

Andy Barber:

Andy sees that you're breaking down, and crying.

"Honey, baby, what's wrong?"

You cry some more.

Andy wraps his arms around you, and you just keep sobbing.

Two of your co-workers are not only bullying you at work, they are making it difficult for you to even function.

You've had an anxiety attack already.

You have to escape somewhere else, close the door, and cry every day.

You need to release this.

Andy's lawyer training is kicking in.

He drops you off the next day, and he talks with your boss.

You have everything documented.

Andy threatens to sue for creating a hostile work environment if your boss doesn't get rid of these two.

Later that day, those two are gone.

You're still upset.

It's hard for you to get up in the morning, even on the best of days.

Andy notices, and encourages you to get help.

You see your docs, and he starts you on an antidepressant.

You start seeing a therapist.

You are slowly getting better.

Andy treats you to a date night, and it's the best.

You and Andy start to spend more time together.

A few weeks later, you give your two weeks notice.

You decide to put your mental health first.

Steve Rogers:

Steve sees that you haven't been yourself lately.

The days are taking a toll on you.

You are crying one morning, and Steve hears you.

"Doll, what's wrong?"

You explain that you feel like everything is falling apart.

You feel like you can't do anything right lately.

Tony's new receptionist is not only lazy, she's bullying you.

You have an anxiety attack.

Steve encourages you to get help.

You start seeing the therapist.

Tony fires his receptionist and hires a new one.

You and the new one get along.

Steve and you go for a walk, go for a run, or go to the gym every day.

You also take your antidepressants and your antianxiety meds.

Steve is proud of you.

He sees that the old you is slowly coming back.

He sees that you're putting in the work.

Steve sees that you are more like yourself.

Steve takes you on a nice, weekend getaway.

You come back, and you've been glowing even more.

#chris evans #ransom drysdale #andy barber #steve rogers #colin shea #depression and anxiety #therapy #mental health #treatment #antidepressants

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gloriousvermin · 8 months

Text

Dear dad, I had always thought you were a pretty cool guy. You listened to good music, you knew how to do everything. Recently though I've released that I don't remember ever feeling loved. I remember times when I was even younger than I am now, where you were forceful with your children. They would scream and cry that you were holding too hard and you would tell them to quit crying. Those days are over now but you seem to have forgotten to guide them.

I know that when I was afraid I didn't trust to ask you for help. I know you never prepared me life. You taught me skills I didn't want they may never be useful to me now that I never go on trips to the mountains. I know that one day you told me you were proud of who I was becoming and I scowled

I remember you told me I was good enough when I wasn't and got angry when I was right and I couldn't do it

I know id rather you just leave me alone now instead of trying to be a part of my life.

I know I hear songs of people talking about their parents in ways I never could and wish it wasn't so

I think you are a fool and can't tell your kids you love them

Dear mom, I remember so very little of how it used to be but I know you made me go to church and youth groups and get very mad when I didn't memorize verses or didn't want to go. Honestly I wish I had more to say about what I remember about you, but I don't and I think that speaks more than I ever could.

I may not remember much of them but now I know you tell me to be better than humanly possible as encouragement. I know you strip away the few things that bring me happiness the second I don't measure up to my reputation. I know you yell at me for not trying and then tell me I'm better than I am. I know you told me you might as well slit your wrists when I said I didn't know if you love me. I know you don't let me ever oppose you. I know you raise your voice everyday. I know you let the youngest waste their youth just like I did. I know you told me that I don't get to choose.

Do you remember when I took pre algebra over the summer and cried because I didn't do it perfectly? Do you remember how you told me to just be better and do it anyway?

And to both of you, I know you have no respect for your childrens privacy. Remember when you let me find out that my sister was cutting herself? I'm certain she didn't want her brothers knowing that. Remember when your first son tried to commit suicide? Remember when you told my other sister I was contemplating self harm? I didn't want her knowing that. Remember when you told me a slip in grades and disinterest in education was a sign of mental issues as if I didn't know that I was sad?

Remember how you complain so much about your "daughter" that stays in "her" room all day and then make fun of "her" when "she" leaves? Or how you ignore that "she" clearly has some kind of anxiety disorder. And what about all the children who are so clearly disturbed in your home?

Did you ever notice how you never pay attention to us until we are the oldest?

Dear mom, dear dad

You had too many kids and I don't think you can care for a single one

#vermins thoughts #vermin wrists

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maxwellsuperbien · 3 days

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Art school and mental health.

I think I decided to really become an artist in 2014. At the time, I was in high-school and the idea of trying to enter an art school came from seeing how little practice was in the art curriculum at a french university.

Not knowing anything better I submitted an embarrassing portfolio consisting of things I saw in the videos of people wanting to go in the

𝓒𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓪𝓷 𝓘𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓽𝓾𝓽𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓐𝓻𝓽𝓼

My portfolio neither had the quality to enter what I now know as an animation school and clearly wasn't focusing on concepts enough to go into the kind of school we have in France. I was motivated but my parents aren't artist, I didn't know any art student and my art professor pushed going to a university.

Instead I went into a preparation school that helped me understand what type of art school they are, what they wanted and how different from one another the teachings there can be. After that I tried 3 different schools and got 2 to accept me.

While I had nothing against the 3rd one at the time, knowing I fucked up during the entrance exam, learning how pretentious the professors were and how they treated not only my classmates but the students as well, pissed me of.

I wasn't mad they refused me because I already had the privilege of choice with the 2 schools I wanted. I was mad because despite not liking this particular classmate, they treated her condescendingly and mocked her in a very stressful situation.

She instead went to another school, less prestigious sure, but at least more adapted to what she did and wanted. I'm glad for her but that moment marked me and gave an idea of how little art school were concerned for the mental health of their students.

Nobody comes out, at least in France, of an art school intact, some people are traumatized, some left with severe burn out, some became the professor's black sheep (for good or bad reasons). I went there, excited to meet so many people, met the one person that was super manipulative, got social anxiety and never got any real friends.

Sure, I learned a lot of things about art, techniques, others and myself. However, I also learned that despite my best attempts at socializing, I felt unfulfilled, frustrated and developed a depression. I cried each birthday I had from my situation, had suicidal ideations, didn't quite understand what happened to me.

I felt like I never did enough for people and my professors made me feel like it. I got my diploma with the jury telling me I could have developed my ideas deeper and should step out of my comfort zone.

How do you step out of your comfort zone when it's the only thing making you survive and feel safer ?

You don't. You're mentally ill and you need something to cling unto while experiencing traumatic events.

I was isolated but each time I talked about it, people who told me they would make steps didn't or were too busy working on things of their own.

Trust me, I don't want to repel anyone from entering art school.

Be careful about who you meet and who's competitive mind is full of negative self-value. Inform yourself on where other students live and get near them, try to not be isolated or isolating yourself (if you can).

Your work might be amazing but if people only value you because of it, it's not right. You're a whole person, your feelings matter and friendships are VERY important to your art school experience.

I think what made me not quit, was mostly from the mindset I grew up with and the solidarity the class showed towards shitty things professors did to us. We legit scared the teachers because we would NOT shut up about how wrong and immature they could be.

I became aware of many things during these 3 years. Like my needs, gender identity, social issues... My experience was intense and honestly ? I don't recommend being me.

I don't speak for everyone there, I'm sure many got more positives than negatives but while I'm on friendly terms with my old classmates, I've never really been friends with them either.

ANYWAYS. Here's a picture of a scorpion-fly from this april :)

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plut0-mar2 · 20 days

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HIII POOKIES!! :DD I made a compromise(I drew online on my school computer) and here's my creepypasta OC, Riley/Alley! I'm ALSO gonna post pt.1 of their story rq. Btw, in this picture this is them AFTER the events (Proxy lmao) and also it's not their alter (Alley) but I'll post Alley later!

November 6th

A regular Saturday evening, nothing really special about it. Nothing but a headspace of emptiness in an over accessorized room. Glaring at the wall won’t do anything. You really are useless. The sound of silent voices and the movement of picking on healing scabs. Afterwards, the voices had gotten slightly more quiet and the picking stopped. A girl had finally stopped rotting about in her room, twitching her eye a little. This girl is Riley Nevaeh Taylor Green, or just Riley. She had finally gotten up from just staring her existence away, letting out a huff. She left her room to find where her siblings are, anxiously pulling her curly black hair. Her life wasn’t good since birth, being born with Autism and developing schizophrenia and anxiety, doing repeated impulsive acts. It makes her feel miserable that she’s been cursed with so much. The suicide hotline is basically screaming for a pickup phone call. It ruined her chance to even socialize with anybody. The only place where she could find comfort is with her siblings, her dad, Lizzie, her small friend circle, and Kittayoi. While walking in the hallway, she saw her mom enter from the front door, well, her step-mom Amber, that is. She wore a white collared shirt with a flannel, as well as some regular mom jeans. Riley didn’t like Amber, holding a GIANT grudge against her. When her dad was alive, she was always being cruel to him, pushing him to do things he finds uncomfortable . She would also bring her kids over at times, treating Riley and her siblings with zero respect and always getting the bottom of the barrel. Then after Riley’s dad asked for a divorce, Amber ended up getting her family to murder him. It left a giant scar for Riley and her siblings, making them all become more anti-social and lash out on each other with fear of what Amber might do to them. Sometimes, she tries to be nice to them after the passing, but Riley thinks she’s jealous because Riley and her siblings still have connections to their real mom, Rowan, who takes weekly custody. Riley’s step-mom had a bunch of bags in her hands, the one that caught Riley’s eye was some type of video game sticking out of the bag, begging to be let out of the bag. It looked like…. “Kittayoi?!” Riley exclaimed, rushing over to the living room where her step-mom was. She’s always been a big fan of the brand Tok-yan, her favorite character being Kittayoi, the face of Tok-yan. It was just so… mesmerizing to look at, seeing how happy Kittayoi looked with their friends, doing that all with no mouth. Riley wished it was that easy… It had a little note on it, saying: For Riley =). Riley thought it was pretty nice. Maybe it’s a late birthday gift? Riley took the item that was in the bag, sneaking away to the living room to play it on her 3DS. Riley was super excited to play the game, hoping it was immersive enough to make Riley forget about her troubles. The game was oddly charming, having pretty pixelated characters in bright colors and having space-like atmospheres. The characters also had voice acting, which surprised Riley a little, knowing most of the games she plays just had regular mute dialogue. The story was pretty simple, it was a space adventure with Kittayoi (like always) to fight off Starknutzi, the main antagonist. It was a simple, yet immersive game. It would also help Riley with forgetting all her problems and all the fighting and misery that she had gained from all that had happened. “I wish Kittayoi would take me away from all my shitty problems…” Riley muttered, putting all their focus on the game. Riley thought it would be better, nicer to be trapped in a game of her own. The game would also help her forget about feeling watched by something…. No eyes… No face.. All pale… He’s watching… November 20th

#creepypasta #slenderman #slenderverse #creepypasta oc #I worked one hell on this #indie

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stary-night · 2 months

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Personal mental health ramble undercut

I think I might have BPD because I have like every symptom listed in the diagnostic criteria and kinda have to some extent since I was 14. And it's getting to the point where the extreme mood swings make it really hard to go to school and do research and just generally live my life. I first heard of it a year and a half ago and kinda ignored how it felt similar because I was already in therapy for anxiety and depression but I did CBT for over a year and it didn't really help much.

I've read about DBT and have since tried a couple of the journaling exercises. They kinda helped and I'm interested in going back to therapy and trying that method, regardless of what my official diagnosis ends up being just because I think it would work better for me. I'm just not sure how honest I should be when looking for potential therapists or if I should bring it up with my primary care physician.

Like on one hand, I know that it's heavily stigmatized and the mental health system is generally not great to people with cluster b disorders so bringing that up might potentially make it harder for me to get treatment. But I'm also worried about not addressing the symptoms that are causing me to look into it in the first place (self destructive behavior, suicidal ideation, dissociation, and unstable relationships). I didn't trust my former therapist enough to talk about the first two (which ended up being the right move I guess, because when I did talk about it she tried to push Christianity on me).

I'm just kinda scared because I got in a really bad mental health episode last semester and some of the semester before and even though I've been mostly doing better I still feel the symptoms sinking into my everyday life. I basically lost half a week of research time to dissociation alone and keep having flashbacks to how I felt back then, which hurt a lot despite the fact I don't even remember much of the last year.

I want to get better - I don't want to keep feeling this way and I don't want to have to keep hiding it from people close to me out of fear of hurting them. I already feel bad that my loved ones have already had to calm me down from anxiety attacks and I know it hurts them when I don't take care of myself, so if nothing else I want to get better for them.

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 1 year

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Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 13

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo X OFC New as of 8/07/2023

SUPPORT YOUR CREATORS. REBLOGGING & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Chapter Quote: "Please be patient with him.”

In the weeks that followed, things were more chaste between Dieter and I, however, we were spending significantly more time together. We had even started spending time with his sister and her family on the weekends. She and I were becoming close. Even exchanging numbers and chatting on occasion.

Ever since Lauren had mentioned the wine and paint night, Dieter kept talking about doing it. He thought his sister might enjoy it and that it would be a fun activity for the kids (minus the wine for them of course). We decided to have it during one of our Friday night gatherings at my place since I had a lot of supplies on hand. What I didn’t have, Lauren provided.

Dieter and I got started setting everything up in the back yard to avoid any major messes. Rather than cooking, we planned to order pizza, just to make our lives easier. Lauren came early to help set up since she was bringing additional supplies. To my surprise, Alex showed up early too. I had a feeling that was Dieter’s doing, but he didn’t mention it. Alex was quick to help Lauren with the extra folding tables and the tabletop easels that she brought from her shop classroom. She had also brought some smocks for the kids. Dieter and I hung back, getting things set up for the food so Lauren and Alex could have a few minutes to themselves.

As far as we knew, neither one had pulled the trigger and asked for the other's number yet. However, Alex was definitely inquiring about her when the opportunity presented itself. Dieter said that Alex tried to be casual about it and would only ask questions when the topic came up. He would never directly ask about her. Lauren took the same approach with Dieter, never directly asking him anything about his brother. However, she had made it very clear to me that she was interested but didn’t want to make things weird with Dieter in case it didn’t work out. She valued the friendship they had built and didn’t want to mess it up.

Shaun dropped Gabby and the kids off soon after we had everything ready to go. Shaun, unfortunately, couldn’t stay due to a prior commitment, so he was missing out on the festivities. We got started as soon as we helped the kids pick out their paint colors. Each of them fought over who was going to sit by Uncle Dieter and Uncle Alex. The guys ended up pushing two tables together so that they could sit in the middle of the three kids. Gabby and I got one to ourselves, where Lauren later joined us. Lauren did take a few minutes to show us some techniques using different types of brushes and painting knives.

Dieter and Alex were both helping the kids with their “masterpieces”. Sara insisted that Dieter paint a unicorn to match hers, and he obliged by painting a rather realistic looking one. Samuel and Luke begged Alex to paint one of their favorite cartoon characters. He agreed and they tried to do it exactly as he did on their own canvases, though they were not quite as successful. Alex ended up having to make two of the same things to give to each of them.

The ladies were already a few glasses of wine in when Gabby momentarily got up to run to the bathroom. Lauren took the opportunity to lean over to me to say that she was pretty sure her ovaries just exploded as she watched Dieter and Alex with the kids. Dieter had smeared paint on Sara’s nose and Alex was leaning over in concentration explaining how he was doing something to Luke and Samuel. I was not expecting that sort of comment from her. It took me a moment to realize what she had said before I burst out laughing, which drew some interesting looks from the neighboring table. I apologized for my outburst. Not that I didn’t agree with her assessment.

When Gabby came back, Lauren decided she was going to join the kids table and show them how to make some fun paintings with their hands because they seemed to be finishing up what they had been working on. Though, I’m pretty sure she was just using it as an excuse to be near Alex. That left Gabby and I alone to chat.

Dieter briefly left his station to get everyone something to drink, stopping to ask us if we needed anything as he went. As he did so, he ran his hand down the back of my hair, leaning down to give a brief smile as he spoke. He looked like he was having a good time. He was genuinely happy, showing no signs of the sadness that often plagued him. His boyish charm was on full display as his eyes crinkled from his smile. When he came back with an arm full of cold bottles of water from the cooler, he took one and stuck it to the side of my neck, causing me to jump from the contact, which incited a burst of laughter from him and Gabby. I gave him a dirty look as I took the water from him. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head and apologized, but muttered, “Worth it!” as he walked off. He was looking back in my direction with a sly grin on his face as he went. I rolled my eyes and shook my head at his antics.

“You know,” Gabby started, but paused briefly as she watched her brother. She seemed to weigh her words before continuing.

“I’ve noticed a big change in him since he’s been on his break. He seems different…with you.”

“What do you mean?” I could feel the confused look forming on my face.

She shrugged, “He seems happier. I mean, I know he has his bad days, but they seem to be happening less.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. I knew what she was insinuating.

“Gabby, we aren’t together like that. We’re just friends...”

She held up her hand to silence me while she gave a doubtful look. “I’m still hopeful he’ll finally open up and let someone in. I really do hope that someone is you. You fit into this family so well. I feel like it’s meant to be.”

Her eyes turned glassy as she looked down at the drink in her hand. I could feel a lump forming in the back of my throat. I hoped it would be me too, but I was afraid to admit that, even to myself. I looked at her with my brows drawn down together. Fighting the emotion that was trying to spill out. She looked back up at me, continuing to speak.

“I don’t know the details of what happened to you in the past, but I can see how you hurt sometimes, a lot like he does. It’s not obvious to everyone else, but I see how you two silently communicate with each other. You both know when the other needs…” she briefly waved her hands around as she struggled for the words.

“I don’t know what it is, reassurance maybe? It’s interesting to see that dynamic and how it’s changing him. He isn’t as closed off as he used to be. He’s opened up to me some, but I know there’s things that he hasn’t told anyone about his trauma, that he needs to say. I just hope you won’t give up on him before he makes it to that point. Please be patient with him.”

I always knew there was some type of trauma that troubled him, but hearing it confirmed out loud was hard. I felt a tear sliding down my cheek. I turned in my seat so that my back was to everyone else. All I could do was shake my head in agreement. I didn’t trust myself with words at that moment. Gabby leaned in close, reaching over to squeeze my arm that was propped on the table. I took a steadying breath and wiped my face.

She smiled, “Clearly, I don’t need to drink. It makes my mouth a little too loose.”

We both chuckled at her statement. Sara appeared beside me with her unicorn painting that Dieter had made for her. She wanted to show it off. I looked it over. There is no way this was his first-time painting. There was too much detail. Gabby must have noticed me studying the painting.

“You know, Dieter used to paint. He was really good at it too, but he stopped when his acting career started to take off.”

Why did I always feel like she was reading my mind? She was just as perceptive as her brother.

“Really? He hadn’t mentioned that.” I looked over at him. He was laughing out loud about something Lauren had said to them.

I had wondered why he was so eager to have the paint night. Maybe he missed it? Maybe he would pick it up again after this? He seemed to be enjoying it. Or maybe he was just enjoying spending time with his family. This evening was certainly giving me a lot to think about.

A commotion drew me out of my thoughts. Dieter, Alex, and the boys were now chasing each other around the yard with paint on their hands, smearing it on each other’s faces and arms when the opportunity presented itself. Lauren was quick to get away from the fray and join us girls. We sat laughing at their antics. Once they had finally worn themselves out, I had to get out the water hose and spray all of them off the best I could. There was no other option. Luckily, Gabby had brought extra clothes for the kids. Dieter had to lend his brother some of his clothes from his gym bag, which I silently hoped were clean.

As everyone was getting settled, I put in the pizza order. It didn’t take long for it to arrive, and everyone immediately dug in. The kids started getting tired soon after they ate. We all sat around talking for another hour or so, giving the wine a chance to get out of our systems. Once Gabby announced Shaun was on his way to pick them up, Dieter and Alex helped the kids pack up and walked them out to the car when Shaun arrived. Alex and Lauren hung around to help us clean up and he also helped her load the tables back into her vehicle. They both left soon after that.

At this point, it was around ten thirty. Dieter and I both came inside and collapsed onto the sectional, exhausted from the day's events. He started telling me about some of the funny things the kids had said while they were painting. The boyish grin had returned to his face, and he had a glimmer in his eye as he talked through it. Both of us laughed during certain parts. When he finished, I spoke up.

“Can I ask you something? Without you getting upset or offended?”

“Of course,” he looked taken aback by my question.

“And you don't have to answer me, just so we’re clear.”

“Ok, you’re making me nervous. Out with it already,” he said as he made a waving motion with his hand.

I chuckled before I continued, “Did you not ever want to have kids? I only ask because you said you had a vasectomy. It surprises me, especially after seeing you with Gabby’s kids.”

He was quiet for a moment, thinking about his response. His face tensed.

“That’s a complicated answer.” He took a deep breath before continuing.

“I would love to have kids, I mean the procedure is reversible, so it’s still a possibility. I just…never felt like I was in the right place for that. I’m too afraid of everything that could possibly come with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m too afraid of loss. So, I avoid it. That’s why I haven’t really done the whole relationship thing. At one point in my life, I was hopeful that someone would come along that I’d be willing to fix myself for, but I’ve realized I need to do it for myself before I can take that next step, or else it’s never gonna work out. I’m just afraid it’ll be too late by the time I finally get there.”

He paused for a moment with a pensive look on his face as he stared off into the distance at nothing. Again, I felt like he had an underlying meaning to his words.

“What about you, did you ever want kids?”

I sighed. I brought the topic up, so I might as well be honest and open.

“Initially, yes. When I first got married, we tried. It just never happened. We never went to the doctor or anything, so I’m not sure what the issue was. Though, looking back now, I’m happy it didn’t happen or else I’d be tied to that asshole for life. At this point, I’ve accepted the fact that it’ll probably never happen. I’m not sure that it can or ever could.”

He reached over to grab my hand that was at my side, giving it a small squeeze. We sat in silence for a few minutes, seemingly mourning the lives that we could have had if only things had gone differently. I briefly wondered how things would have turned out if we had known each other back before things went so wrong. Maybe we wouldn’t have wasted so much of our lives on meaningless pursuits. I realized I was still wasting it, insisting we stick to the “just friends” agreement. I know he keeps saying that’s where he’s at too, but some days, I feel like he wants more. Especially after hearing the comments from Gabby earlier in the day.

Dieter broke me out of my thoughts when he released my hand, indicating that it was getting late and he better head home because we had plans for the following day. We were finally going to go look at furniture for his house and look at some paint colors. He had been talking about it for weeks. He was insistent that he would like anything I came up with, but I wanted a better idea of his likes and dislikes.

I walked him to the door. Rather than the loose hug and chaste kiss on the cheek that he usually gave me, he pulled me in for a tight hug, completely engulfing me with his body. We held each other for a moment before he kissed me on the top of the head and told me good night. He released me reluctantly and kept his head down. He wouldn’t meet my eyes as he opened the door and walked out to his car.

I tried not to think too hard about his change in mood as I got ready for bed. We had left on a heavy topic that had most likely started to weigh on his mind. It had definitely weighed on mine as I laid in bed, trying to sleep.

I woke up the next morning to a text from Dieter asking me what time I wanted to leave, noting that there was no rush, of course. He sent it at 6 AM. I looked at the time and it was almost nine. He had been such an early riser here lately. I rolled my eyes at the ridiculousness of it. When I closed my messenger app, I noticed I had an alert on my security camera app. I opened it to check, figuring it was an opossum or something. To my surprise, it was a clip of Dieter entering through the basement door a little over an hour ago. He must have come over to workout, which was odd. He didn’t usually do that on the weekend.

I rolled out of bed and went to the kitchen to make us some coffee. Once it was ready, I filled up two travel mugs. I made sure to make his cup the way he liked it, then headed downstairs. As I walked into the room, he was walking out of the bathroom, buttoning up his jeans. His hair was still wet from the shower he had just taken, and he hadn’t yet put a shirt on. I paused briefly, taking in the sight before me. My eyes roaming up and down his body. He gave me a lopsided grin and raised an eyebrow.

“See something you like, cariño?”

His morning voice was husky and low. His words went straight to my core. I could feel my face getting hot.

“I’m just surprised to find you here this early on a Saturday to work out, is all.”

He narrowed his eyes at me before he continued, I didn’t think he was buying my response. “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep and was feeling a little keyed up. I thought it might be good to get rid of the excess energy. I was coming to pick you up anyway. So why not?”

“Maybe I should have made you decaf then,” I said as I handed him his coffee. He gave me a look of disgust, shaking his head from side to side as he took a sip.

“Well, I’m gonna go shower. I’ll be ready in like forty-five minutes.”

He nodded and said he would be up in a minute to watch some tv or something.

The entire time I was in the shower, I kept thinking about Dieter with his wet hair and shirtless torso and his hands as they worked to button his pants. He looked fucking amazing, and it was dredging up memories from New York. Memories of being in the shower with him, what his hands felt like on my body. I could feel my reservations about a relationship with him slowly slipping away. I needed to get it together.

After I showered, I rubbed some products through my hair, opting to let it air dry. I went light on the makeup for a more natural look. I changed into a floral print wrap skirt, a white tank, and threw a jean jacket on. I rolled up the sleeves of the jacket. I grabbed my white sneakers and sunglasses out of the closet, then walked out toward the living room. As I went, I realized I didn’t even give my outfit a second thought. I just grabbed something and went with it. I was really starting to embrace the more casual looks and realized that I felt more like myself in them. I felt oddly proud of myself for the progress.

I walked into the living room to find Dieter dozing on the sectional. He had his right arm folded behind his head, while the left rested across his stomach. A sliver of his abdomen was peeking out from under his tan short-sleeve Henley. A small area of his chest was showing where he left his shirt unbuttoned. He looked so relaxed and comfortable, I hated to wake him. Especially since he said he couldn’t sleep last night.

I walked over and stood next to him, reaching down to grab the remote that was lying on the couch, against his hip, and turned off the tv. The movement seemed to stir him. He moved his right arm down over his face and groaned. He reached out with his left hand, sliding it around to the back of my thigh, just above the knee and gave it a squeeze. Then he just left it there. I looked down at his hand, slightly confused and also enjoying the heat of his touch a little too much. I reached down and removed it from my leg, giving it a tug to wake him up. He groaned again before he finally uncovered his face and sat up sleepily. He looked up, giving me a lopsided smile as he rubbed the bare skin of his stomach underneath his shirt.

“Are you ready to go, or would you rather nap some more?” I gave him a playful smile.

“Ugh, whose idea was this anyway. It’s terrible,” he mumbled as he got off the couch.

“Pretty sure it was yours,” I said through a chuckle.

He came over and wrapped his arms around my shoulders for a tight embrace. He put his face to my hair and inhaled deeply. I was surprised by his actions but hugged him back.

“Are you hungry? I’m hungry,” he said into my hair.

He didn’t even let me answer before he released me and walked off to go in search of his phone, wallet, and keys. I watched him for a moment, he was acting a little off.

I grabbed my purse and phone and followed behind him as we walked downstairs to go out the basement door next to where his car was parked.

As we got in the car, he reached for his sunglasses. I felt like he was avoiding my eyes. I reached out and lightly touched his arm, leaning my head forward to look directly at him.

“Are you ok?”

He finally looked up at me, seeming startled by my question. His eyes looked sad and tired.

“Yeah, I just haven’t been sleeping well. I guess it’s making me a little moody.”

He gave me a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes, then he put his sunglasses on. By this point, it was getting close to lunch time. He mentioned a cafe that he liked going to on occasion and asked if I had been there. I hadn’t but was open to trying it. He put the car in reverse and started to head that way.

It was about a thirty-minute drive, and it took several more minutes to find a parking spot. As we were walking in, he looked me up and down for the first time since waking up. He put his hand on the middle of my back, running it up the center underneath my hair to rest on the back of my neck, where he started rubbing with his thumb. I immediately got goosebumps all over my body from the contact. He leaned in closely, laying the side of his face on my head to tell me that I look nice today. I gave him a half smile as I glanced up at him.

I thought back to what Gabby had said, about giving each other reassurance. Is that what we were doing? He dropped his hand from my neck, and I reached over to link my arm with his. He visibly relaxed as he smiled over at me. He must have been having one of his bad days I thought to myself. I felt like he was seeking comfort, but I didn’t know why. As we reached the front of the cafe, I held back while he went to reserve a table for us. It was a little crowded around the hostess stand and I didn’t want to get in the middle of it. I aimlessly paced around as I waited. When I turned toward the direction we had just come from, I was met with a familiar face I had hoped I would never see again.

Next Chapter

A/N: Are you all ready to see snarky protective Dieter? Cause it's coming...

Tag List: @rhoorl, @bitchwitch1981, @readingiskeepingmegoing, @runningmom94, @for-a-longlongtime, @hisandsnakes

#dieter x ofc #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x oc #pedro pascal #Destiny & Deliverance Series #pedrostories #Pedro Pascal Character #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #dieter bravo #pedro boys #pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro Pascal Fanfic #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo fanfiction

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angstyandromanticwriting · 3 months

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Harley Quinn X FemWerewolf!Reader Angsty, Cute and Fluffy Prompt (2)

• Linked to Rachael Allen’s Reckoning

• Consists after the events of the first film (Suicide Squad)

• There will be more!

• Connected to last part that I posted due to text block limit + Some of listed TW might not apply to this part (I’m too lazy to narrow it down to this half 😭 - my apologies)

!TW: Rake-ish behaviour, nudity, swearing, mention of previously being in a mental asylum/breaking out of one, violence, presence of alcohol, jealousy, insult, substance abuse (alcohol + drugs), insult(s), implied poor childhood experience + trauma as a result of it/implied suffering from PTSD, implied suffering from depression + separation anxiety + anxiety in general, implied being previously abused by a family member, mention of the death of a family member, self put-down(s) + self doubt, presence of blood, near death experience(s), panic attack(s), presence of weaponry, mention of previously being abused in general, injury detail, presence of drugs, mention of previously attempting to commit suicide, suicidal attempt + consideration + intentions, stitching, self-harm, cheating - if I’ve missed any, let me know ❤️!

You were bloody, almost fully submerged in tainted red water, and for the first time she felt as if her heart were truly shattering.

“No,” she strained out in a shaky voice close to a whisper, before she staggered into the room, wondering why the air was thick around her; why her legs were failing her, as well as why time seemed to be moving slower with every step she took to get closer to you, “shit, no!” As soon as she had got close enough to do so, she hastily pulled your body out of the water, tears so easily invading her eyes as she cradled you close to her, not caring if she got your blood on her; she just wanted you to be okay; wanted you to come back to her, somehow, just so she could keep you with her, and ensure that you never left her side again, like you seemed to have tried to in an attempt to try and make her happy for a reason unbeknownst to her, as if she’d truly be happy if you disappeared from her life again, the way you had four years ago by sacrificing your life for her’s, only to be revived in secret by your aunt once Harley had begrudgingly run away from the Omega who she thought she had seen kill you, no matter how much it had pained her to leave you in such a state, as if she truly believed you were never coming back to her. “Y/n, please,” she begged weakly, “I-.. I need you, I-.. I love you, just-.. please don’t - don’t do this.” She then affectionately connected her forehead to your’s whilst her face began to contort; she couldn’t help it as she gradually began to break down, lifting her right hand up to your left cheek delicately whilst she silently begged you to open your eyes for her; silently begged you to say something, anything, just to show her that you were still there with her, as she was terrified of checking for a heart beat, when she couldn’t even tell if you were still breathing. “Don’t say goodbye,” she whined, whilst trying to fight back a strained sob, her tears dripping down onto your own cheeks, “Nugget-.. please-” Her voice then failed her entirely as she began to sob uncontrollably into your neck, whilst she couldn’t help, but wonder if she was the reason why you’d decided to try and take your life like this; wondered if her kissing you had driven you away from her, only prompting her to curse herself even more as she wished she’d never kissed you, now, the way she had, if it meant maybe you’d still be with her, but shortly after she’d begun to curse herself for what had occurred between you both earlier, you gradually began to stir, whimpering barely audibly within her arms whilst she blissfully entangled the fingers of her right hand within your hair. “I - I’m so-.. I’m so sorry, I-.. this is all my fault-”

“Harley,” you mustered up in a broken voice, and it was so small Harley couldn’t help, but wonder if she had only imagined it as she hastily held you at arm’s length, her eyes widening again whilst she drew in a shaky breath upon noticing that your eyes were open, barely; your eye-lids were heavy, but she could make-out your orbs beneath them, prompting her eyes to glint a little whilst a soft smile began to tug at her lips - she couldn’t fight it back, now that she knew she hadn’t lost you, yet, and could still have a chance to save you, somehow, as long as she was quick enough at tending to your wounds. “What-.. what are you-”

“D’you seriously think I can’t get past a locked door?” She interjected playfully, whilst her voice briefly trembled a little as she tried her best again to stay strong for you, not wanting to upset you alongside her, though it was already paining you excruciatingly to know now that she was here with you, and was seeing you in such a state as the one you were in now; you’d never intended to have her or the others catch you like this, assuming they’d just forget about you if the door was locked, only you’d forgotten that - also living in the East-end yourself alongside Harley - that most people who had been residing there knew how to meander around such an obstacle as your locked bedroom, as well as bathroom door.

“I thought-..” Your demeanour then sank a little more within her embrace whilst your eyes darkened, and a crestfallen expression would wash over your face.

“Doesn’t matter what you thought, now, Y/n,” she interjected gently, before she carefully lifted you up off of the ground, and you subconsciously buried your face into her left shoulder whilst you bit harshly down upon your tongue; you couldn’t believe you’d fucked up again; couldn’t believe you’d made it so that she would catch you like this, when she herself needed to be resting, too, after not too long ago being stabbed by Maria in the back, metaphorically as well as physically speaking, “I’ve got you, now, and that’s all that matters - right?”

You would hesitate, a pained expression on your face, before you nodded gravely, and couldn’t help, but curse yourself for being so reckless in thinking that maybe she wouldn’t see you like this; maybe you wouldn’t further burden her by doing what you had done, but - like your father had always told you before - you could only ever do everything wrong, no matter how much you longed to do everything right for those who you loved, as well as trusted - Harley, specifically; you’d never really had any other friends before, but Harley was everything more than a friend, to you, though you doubted she’d ever feel the same way for you despite how you’d both kissed earlier; she deserved more than you, and that was all you knew, now, especially after you could see that you had hurt her again by hurting yourself the way you had not too long ago, now, in an attempt to try and take your life again for the sake of her own, as well as the others, but of course you had to fail miserably even at doing something like that for her.

“R-Right,” you mustered up whilst you faintly smiled back at her, “y-you’re always right, Quinzels, and you always will be, no matter what.”

“Damn right I will,” she remarked, as she carefully carried you out of your bathroom so she could hastily return you to the bed in the spare room that she had tended to you on before, so she could carefully stitch up your cuts upon it, until there was no more blood seeping out of you that could threaten your life, but even once it was over, she found she couldn’t stop thinking about it; couldn’t stop thinking about your limp and bloody frame in the bathtub, to the point that she found herself unable to fall asleep that same night without waking up crying in your arms, but - even though she had come close to losing you - she was determined to never take such risks again, no matter what the future might hold for you both following this moment in time.

~-~

The next morning, Harley begrudgingly woke up to the sound of Winter arguing with Vivian as well as Skylark, prompting her to groan, before she sadly turned to face you to find you peacefully sleeping beside her, prompting her heart to skip a beat whilst her eyes began to glint a little; she’d always wondered what it might be like to wake up beside you the way that she had, after the events of the previous night that brought you both here, you covered mostly in stitches as well as bandages, whilst she found herself still covered in some of your blood, but it didn’t perturb her at all - how could it when she found everything belonging to you to be beautiful?

“Good morning, Nugget,” she cooed gently, whilst she smiled lovingly over at you subconsciously, before timidly inching closer to you whilst you slowly began to stir, yawning and stretching for a moment awkwardly, before you subconsciously turned to face her, prompting her heart to soar - how was it that she found everything you did to be adorable?

“Quinzels,” you cooed sleepily, whilst you smiled tiredly back at her, your eyes glinting a little alongside her stunning icy blue ones whilst your heart skipped a few overwhelming beats, but locking eyes with her was enough to soothe you, and keep you from panicking the way you knew you would if she were not by your side the way that she was, now. A pained expression would then cross your face upon you hearing Winter’s voice outside the room; you really had just been dreaming about being married to her, prompting your heart to sink a little, whilst Harley would frown upon noticing the hurt look on your face; she hated seeing you upset, and wondered why your demeanour had changed the way it had, as if you were still in pain despite the blissful moment you had both previously shared, before Winter had spoken up again outside. “Is that-?” You uttered, and Harley would hesitate, before nodding gravely, and warily looking toward the door again, before she glanced back at you with a sad as well as apologetic expression on her face; she just wished she could do more for you, somehow; wished she could be more for you, without hurting Winter the way she knew she would if she were honest with her about her feelings for you, instead of her.

“I should go and check on them,” she murmured, and you would wince, before nodding gravely, and begrudging turning to lay on your back instead of your side whilst you blankly stared up at the ceiling, wondering why your heart was aching excruciatingly the way that it was, when you knew that she was better off without you; when you knew you could never be what you longed to be for her, no matter how much it hurt you to see her and Winter together; to know that Winter could be closer to her than you ever could be, but you guessed you’d just have to try and live with that, seeing as Harley was determined to not let you give up on your life entirely, though you couldn’t imagine why she’d bother, “I’ll-.. I’ll check up on you in a bit, okay?”

“Sure,” you answered, whilst smiling faintly over at her, prompting her heart to sink; she couldn’t bear to see you like this, but she tried not to let her emotions show, afraid of hurting you even more by allowing herself to break down the way she had earlier, only to notice you appearing dejected in response to seeing that you had hurt her by thinking that she wouldn’t find you in the state that she had, earlier, “t-take your time.”

“I’ll be back soon, I promise,” she cooed, before leaning over to you to delicately press a kiss to your right cheek, prompting you to tense up, your eyes widening a little whilst your heart began to race again; you evidently hadn’t been expecting to feel her lips again, not that you hadn’t been longing to after yesterday’s events, but you were terrified of hurting her, somehow, and hoped that maybe she was just trying to provide comfort to you by acting the way she was, but before you could muster up such a question, she had slipped out of the room, leaving you staring up at the ceiling in a daze, unable to picture anything, but her laying beside you, prompting a soft smile to play on your lips, until there was a loud knock on the back door of the base, only leaving you feeling empty again.

🜸

“Just let me in, Sky,” Winter pleaded, desperate to make sure that her girlfriend was okay after she’d disappeared from her side the previous night, only to hear that Skylar and Vivian had picked up on the scent of blood within the room they were now blocking together to give you both some more privacy as they felt you needed it after whatever had happened to leave whichever one of you in a bloody state they expected you to be in, due to the metallic stench invading their nostrils, as well as your own.

“Not until the Alpha states that she wants us in there with her and Y/n,” Skylar decided, and Winter couldn’t help, but grunt, before she made to push Skylar out of the way, until the door opened behind her, and Harley was warily lingering by it as she slowly eased it closed again to ensure you could relax whilst she was talking to them the way she knew she would be, guessing she would have to offer an explanation as to why she was in there with you, as well as why she was covered partly in blood stains from the night before.

“I can explain-”

“What the fuck happened, Harley?” Winter questioned exasperatedly whilst she rushed up to her partner, and examined her, fearing that maybe the blood stains had been created by her own blood, prompting her to wince, before her heart sank a little; she just wished Winter would stop caring about her, somehow, as she couldn’t bear to see her wasting her time on her when her feelings were directed elsewhere.

“Y/n, she-.. she tried to take her life last night,” Harley revealed dejectedly, her eyes darkening a little upon being reminded of the situation, before she bowed her head again to try and hide that tears were beginning to cloud her vision again, prompting her heart to sink whilst the others would appear taken aback; they evidently hadn’t expected to hear that you’d try and do something like that, as she’d never told them before about the other attempts you’d made to do the same thing, only to miserably fail because of either her catching you, or the thought of her invading your mind blissfully in the best way possible, providing you with enough reason to live to pull yourself up off of the ground again in hope of being able to see her the next day, before she had got together with one of her exes, and Gotham U jocks, Max.

“She did-? Why? What do you remember, if she said anything to you?” Winter pried, not that she really cared; it was just a surprise to her, after her girlfriend and you had seemed to grow closer recently.

“I-.. I’m not sure,” Harley admitted with a pained expression on her face, “she never told me.”

A pained expression then crossed her face as she couldn’t help, but begin blaming herself again for what had happened to you, prompting Winter to subconsciously grimace upon noticing the guilty expression on her partner’s face; she hated seeing her so deeply affected by you, but she guessed she’d just have to live with it, easing Harley into a hug in an attempt to provide comfort to her whilst Skylar and Vivian would appear anxious, picking up on the invaders approaching the base before the others could.

“It’s gonna be okay, Harls, I promise,” Winter cooed gently whilst she lifted her right hand up to her girlfriend’s hair, tangling her fingers within it in an attempt to try and provide comfort to her, but nothing could comfort her anymore, if it wasn’t you by her side, so instead she would nod gravely, before forcing a smile back at her, “Y/n’s gonna be okay - you know that, right?”

“O-Of course I do-”

It was then that a loud banging sounded out at the back door of the base, prompting the group to tense up, whilst Skylar subconsciously growled, and hooked her right arm around her mate, Vivian’s, waist for fear for losing her, if she let go of her, before Harley warily looked toward the door, whilst her heart began to pound - she and the others hadn’t been expecting anyone, since you were all present within the base, so as soon as she entered the kitchen she yet again took up the emergency shotgun; she had to defend the others, no matter what the cost of her doing so might be.

“Harley, don’t,” Winter instructed, but her girlfriend wouldn’t listen; she couldn’t pretend that the intruder wasn’t there, as now that they knew where they were, they would most likely only end up returning to the base with some form of backup, if they didn’t have it already; the group weren’t exactly popular, here, no matter what their intentions were, helping Gotham by attacking the Omega werewolves that resided here, as well as some other bad people the town would be better off without.

“Quinzel, stop - you should listen to her, this time,” Skylar warned, but she wasn’t one for giving in as she warily walked up to the door, before stopping in front of it, and drawing in a shaky breath, “we have to go, now-”

“Whoever it is, we can take them, Sky, if needs be,” Harley interjected confidently, before she reluctantly laid her left hand upon the handle, trying to encourage herself even more by thinking back to you, and how - by defending you and the others from whoever was on the other side of the door - you would be safe to recover for hopefully a longer period of time, but that was before she opened the door to find a familiar, and certainly unwelcome face looking back at her from the other side of the door.

“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise, Sergeant?” The woman remarked, before smirking over at Harley whilst she tensed up, her eyes a little wider than before; she hadn’t been expecting them to find her again after all this time, but here they were - Waller, Flag, and a bunch of soldiers they’d decided to enrol to ensure her capture.

“Waller,” Harley uttered through gritted teeth, “what the hell are you doing here? I thought we killed you-”

“Neither you or the Joker could ever get rid of me, I assure you,” Waller interjected, “surely you didn’t think you’d be able to get rid of me just yet, did you?”

Vivian and Skylar then warily glanced over at one another, before they returned their attention to Harley, not sure what to do during this moment in time.

“Snowflake, Viv, Sky - get Y/n, Cleo, and get out of here,” Harley instructed gently, her eyes fixed on the group before her whilst she bit down on her tongue, trying to keep her composure for fear of losing control of herself, and revealing that she was scared, only because she knew that they’d be taking her away from you again, until Waller spoke up once more.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were any of you,” she warned, prompting the woman before her to scowl; she didn’t like her power being challenged the way it currently was, just like you tended to sport the same tendency to react the way that she was, “we’ve got the place surrounded, Quinzel.” Harley then faltered, a pained expression on her face, but before she could react, Waller would continue, a determined expression as well as demeanour written all over her - “where is the white wolf?”

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed it! ❤️

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