#the problem with 988

[trans-axolotl]

i think i recall some info you've posted about suicide hotlines, sorry if i've mixed you up with someone else. with the lgbt youth silo being disbanded under 988 next month, do you think it'll have an impact on people? part of me wants to believe if 988 sucks then who cares. but if lgbt youth have been helped by this subservice then it's another kick in the teeth.

Yeah probably was me you were thinking of, I've posted quite a bit about the problems with 988 in terms of all the ways they collaborate with cops, do "nonconsensual active rescue" and involuntarily hospitalize people.

And honestly this is one of the reasons I said from the beginning that I didn't think hotlines such as the Trevor Project and other independent hotlines should have became part of the 988 network. Mostly because I think that 988 is a deeply unethical hotline and I don't think that other hotlines should have agreed to uphold the mandatory nonconsensual rescue policies that are required to become part of the 988 network, but also because then their operation becomes even more closely tied to federal funding and federal policy changes, and it opened the door to something like this happening.

I certainly don't think it's good that the fed government specifically cut this service and are signaling that they don't care about supporting suicide prevention for LGBTQ and specifically trans youth, but I also don't think the solution to that is pouring more money into unethical hotlines or lobbying into getting this service back into 988. I think the solution is supporting independent hotlines like the trans lifeline or thrive lifeline that don't collaborate with cops, trying to direct more funding to them so that they can support an increased influx of calls, and sharing those hotline numbers so that more LGBTQ youth are aware there are other LGBTQ hotline services out there. I also think there should be more of an organized effort to get other hotlines to quit working with the cops, quit working with 988, and implement the crisis callers bill of rights.

[llestaire3]

One day I’ll be easier to love.

[vy8nse-vixen]

Every night I can feel my scars aching to be reopened again.

[galaxytittus]

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[imnameimswrld]

ⵌ ׄ ۪ 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 ¹⁶ ׄ ⑅ CL16 ‌˖ ֺ ᰮ

— DESCRIPTION ੭ alex's twin sister has had the hots for a certain blue eyed ferarri driver, and it's finally time to stake her claim on him.

— PAIRING ੭ charles x albon!reader.

— FILE ੭ social media au.

— WARNINGS ੭ language.

— FACE CLAIM ੭ tontawan tantivejakul.

━━━━━━━━━━❪ 🖤 ❫━━━━━━━━━━

alex_albon & yn_albon • 1 hr.

seen by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 988 335 others

lilymhe replied to alex_albon story !

stop being mean to ur sister alexander.

landonorris replied to alex_albon story !

oh, so that's how it is ? golfing without me now ? okay. cool.

pierregasly relied to your story !

wooaahh, what's with the heart there girl ? trying to steal my man or something ?

get in line gasly, this boy is mine.

user replied to your story !

THE HEART MISS MA'AM !!?!?!?

THE BETTER TWIN

so golfing was fun guys !

we should totes do it again sometimes 😄

STUPID STINKY COPY & PASTE

why ?

so you can just stand there like a flag pole and flirt with charles the whole time ?

THE BETTER TWIN

exactly ! 😁

LILY MOMMY

AND SHE LOOKED DAMN HOT DOIN' IT TOO.

STUPID STINKY COPY & PASTE

i-

it's always 2 against 1 here.

LILY MOMMY

you'll get used to it hun 💋

THE BETTER TWIN

eewwww no being lovey dovey in the gc allowed.

brb guys, gonna go text my man's

STUPID STINKY COPY & PASTE

HE IS NOT UR-

oh forget it, ur hopeless.

FUTURE BF

hey y/n !

it's charles here, lily sent me ur number I hope that's cool with you ?

HIS FUTURE GF

hey charles !

yes ofc omg 😊

FUTURE BF

I think I grabbed ur golf set by accident haha 😅

HIS FUTURE GF

oh no problem !

you can give it back tonight at 8pm, at reagan's diner, and wearing ur finest suit because it is a 3 star restaurant.

FUTURE BF

I...

...uhm....

...huh ?

are u... asking me out ?

HIS FUTURE GF

did I stuttter, charles ?

no ?

so 8pm, sharp. those are my favourite golf clubs that i never use, so i'd like them back.

are we clear ?

FUTURE BF.

yes ma'am.

charles_leclerc & ynusername added to their story ! • 2hr

seen by pierregasly, alex_albon, and 1 224 353 others

alex_albon replied to charles_leclerc story !

WHAT

CHARLES

ARE. U. INSANE.

SHE'S CRAZY !?

but she's miiiinnnneeee 😁

maxverstappen1 replied to charles_leclerc story !

so, what did you do ? huh ?

because how does a total dope like urself, bag a 20 like yn ?

ahh, come on max :\

lilymhe replied to your story !

YAAASSSS QUUEEENNN

GET UR MANS

YOU KNOW IT 😝

user replied to your story !

my wife... had been stolen from me....

user replied to your story !

NO COME BACK TO ME YN 😭

charles_leclerc replied to your story !

how am I going to get people to believe that u wanted me first ?

u won't 🤭

yn_albon

liked by lilymhe, carlossainz55, and 1 332 454 others

yn_albon suck on ur zero points alexander.

View all comments

logansargeant OUCH.

▹ yn_albon not u logs u know i love ya !

[ liked by logansargeant ]

lilymhe as the girlfriend I shouldn't click a like on this post but...

▹ alex_albon but ? BUT !?

▹ yn_albon love ya too lils baby 🎀

maxverstappen1 the real mic drop is alex thinking that YN ALBON couldn't pull a kid like charles.

▹ charles_leclerc I want to take offense but I can't, because ur very much right.

▹ user HOL' ON- alex thought YN MOTHER ALBON couldn't pull any man of her choosing !? 😭

▹ yn_albon aw, thanks maxie !

alex_albon just say u all hate me and call it a day.

▹ yn_albon quit being dramatic lex and answer mum's ft before she beats ur ass with the wooden spoon again.

user so no one's gonna talk abt slide 3 ? NO ONE !? HELLO !? 😭

♡. ♡. ♡.

imnameimswrld OOHOOO BACK AGAIN ??? hiii lovelies, I hope you're all doing well ! college is trying so hard to kick my ass but i am hanging in there (just barely lol)... but I hope you enjoyed this one, I'm switching up the look of my stuff coz I hate the old look :)

[natashaslesbian]

Oh! Scarlett introduces R to her colleagues (at the outset or Marvel set) and she gets a bit shy so R sticks by her mom

Mamas Girl

Word Count: 988

————

Today was the annual ‘bring your kid to work day’ on the marvel set, the filming of Endgame had been taking place for a few months and finally a date had been set for all the actors to bring their kids with them for the day. You had managed to avoid all the previous meetings, saying you needed to study or that you had a headache. You had met most of the cast on a few occasions by now, that wasn’t the problem, it was the amount of people that caused the hair to rise on the back of your neck. You were also the oldest kid, being in your early teens while the rest were toddlers, it’s not like you could hang out with them. You had tried so hard to get out of this day, but your mom pushed every problem aside. She even moved the dentist appointment you made yourself to next week so you could come to set, you just didn’t want to upset her by saying you’d rather not go.

You arrived at 11:30am and most of the cast had already arrived for the day. You stuck close by your mom as she said her hellos and just politely waved when they acknowledged you. “Come on sweetie there’s a few new people I wanna introduce you to” Scarlett said as she pulled you out of her trailer with her. You stuck closely by your mom as the two of you made your way through the set. “Y/n this is Chris Pratt, Chris this is my daughter” Scarlett said introducing you to yet another Chris “ah the little Johansson, pleasure to meet you” he said as he extended his hand “hi” you mumbled shaking his hand in greeting. “Oh there’s Joe, I just need to speak to the director hunny I’ll be back in a minute” Scarlett said as she began to walk away “wait can I come with you?” You called after her “I won’t be long y/n, I think Lizzie’s around if you want to find her” your mom called back.

You wanted to run after your mom but your feet were stuck to the ground. “So” Chris said awkwardly “how old are you y/n” he politely asked “14” you mumbled shyly, scanning the room for any sign of someone safe, preferably your mom. “I think Scarlett will be back in a second, sorry I’ve gotta run to makeup, it was nice meeting you” Chris said excusing himself from the awkward situation. You felt your legs begin to shake as you continued to search the room for your mom, a few cast members flashed you small smiles but you just ignored their gazes. “Hey kiddo” a voice called from behind you, you thanked the stars when you realised it was Lizzie. “Hi Elizabeth” you quietly said as she led you to a nearby couch “you waiting for your mom?” She said “and you can call me Lizzie by the way” she bumped your arm. You nodded politely and began biting your finger nails.

Lizzie attempted to make some small talk with you but as she figured it was more of a one sided conversation. “Lizzie!” Scarlett beamed as she came back over to you both “its great to see you” she said as the two said hello with a hug. You allowed the two a brief catch up while you came to your mom’s side, the anxiety finally subsiding. “Alright sweetie I’m not needed for a little while so you wanna go back to my trailer?” Scarlett asked you “yes please” you said. The two of you said goodbye to Lizzie and made your way back to Scarlett’s trailer. You held on tightly to her hand as you danced through the crowds. “You ok y/n?” Scarlett said when you grabbed her hand, you simply nodded. “Hey talk to me little bear” she cooed as she opened the door to her trailer.

“I’m sorry” you whispered as your mom led you towards the couch “there’s just a lot of people here that I don’t know” you mumbled. “Oh sweetie” Scarlett said as she cuddled up with you “I’m sorry I should’ve realised it might be too much for you” she said. “I don’t mean to be like this, I’m sorry” you sighed “hey stop apologising” Scarlett said as she gentle brushed your hair from your face “there’s nothing wrong with being a little shy you know” she cooed. “How do you do it, all the people you have to talk to?” You asked, avoiding her gaze. “Well I guess I’ve been doing it for so long I don’t really think about it anymore” Scarlett said “but I still get nervous sometimes. I know it probably looks like I’m really outgoing but it’s just part of my job, I’d much rather be curled up with you all day” your mom said, lifting your chin up to meet her gaze.

You leaned into Scarlett’s embrace and gently closed your eyes “love you mama” you said as you buried your face in her neck “I love you too my little bear” Scarlett kissed your forehead. Your nap was short lived as your mom gently shook you awake “baby I’ve gotta go makeup do you wanna come with me?” She asked. You groaned as you tried to pull her back to cuddling you “wanna stay here with you mommy” you mumbled sleepily. “Me too sweetheart but mommy has to work” Scarlett said giving your tummy a soft tickle “you can sit with me the whole time I promise, even on mamas lap if you want too” your mom teased. “I’m not a baby” you pouted “well you’re my baby” Scarlett said as she helped you to your feet. “My shy little baby, you know I wouldn’t want you any other way than yourself” she said as she kissed your forehead. “Mom don’t be so soppy” you laughed.

————

Taglist<3

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904

[someonexsomeone]

Stardrinker

Title: Stardrinker

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: Sirius Black x bestfriend!reader, minor James Potter x Slytherin Pureblood np!reader

Summary: Sirius is your best friend, but James...James is your sun.

Warnings: angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of traditional values and arranged marriages, happy ending

Authors Note: hello again! This is kinda a prequel kinda a companion piece to Suneater. Originally I wrote Suneater from readers POV but i am a sucker for the male pov in romances because idk i want to be loved and devoted or whatever so here is what Suneater almost was, with some minor additions

if you or anyone you know needs help, please call 988 (USA) or contact your local hotline. You are loved, you are needed.

Companion piece: Suneater

Sirius is one of your best friends. Well, maybe best friend wasn’t the best way to put it. Sirius was the light of your life, the reason you were able to hold out for as long as you did, a comfort in the dreary place you called home. He was the one who kept you company at stuffy Pureblood events, dressed in clothes that only fit if you stayed as still as possible. He was the one who gave you reassuring looks from across the room as your parents paraded you around the room, sickly fake smiles on their faces that would drop the moment you returned back home. He made those parties somewhat enjoyable as he mocked those around him with little to no tack behind their backs, easily slipping into rehearsed conversation when they looked towards him again. He was the one who would cut into your dances as much as he could, even if customs looked down on him for doing so, just to make sure you didn’t end up in the arms of a Pureblood twice your age, the type who would grab at your hips in a possessive way and allude to buying you from your parents (because, let’s be honest, being on the marriage market in your circle was nearly the same as being cattle put up for auction). 

He was the bane of your existence when you were younger. Your parents had always pursued the best course to elevate the family status, jumping from family to family, pledging their loyalty to the highest bidder until they found something better, turning their back without another word. It was obvious, to everyone else around, that your family’s loyalty was like holding water, but with their seemingly random ways of knowing exactly when to jump ship, you were able to keep your head above water with minimal problems. You’ve had more marriage arrangements than most, paraded around every party your parents could make their way into, forced into hundreds of different robes until you could barely remember what any of them looked like. 

The Ancient and Noble House of Black was one of the many families your parents tried to cozy up to. It was, to your relief, they were much too confident in themselves to stoop so low as to interact beyond pleasantries with your parents, but it happened frequently enough that you and Sirius came to know each other's faces. Two scared children, standing stiff as a board beside their parents, flicking eyes to judge the other silently. By the time Sirius had decided he wanted to distance himself from his parents, you had already spent too many years glaring at each other to have anything beyond acknowledgement of the others existence.

It was why, when you parents not so subtly berated you at a summer function, you were mortified it was Sirius who found you. The summer before your first year, before the only bit of freedom you ever dared to have, it was no wonder you got a little cocky. The scoff was nothing, easily passed up as a sneeze or a cough, but your parents were furious, hurling hate at you as soon as they got you alone. Your arm still stung from where they had dragged you, wanting to get as much distance from the party as possible to not embarrass them even more, and your eyes burned with unshed tears. You were eleven.

Sirius found you that night, curled up on the floor only minutes after your parents were done with you. They commanded you to remain in the room for the rest of the night, staying far away from any other potential allies, and to hide the disarray they left you in. He rushed into the room without a care to look around, out of breath as if he’d been running, closing the door with a soft click, obviously trying to get some privacy. He leaned against it for a moment, taking a deep lungful of air, before turning. He stopped still when he saw you on the floor.

Neither said a word. Sirius stayed frozen for far too long, eyes flickering between you and the rest of the room, obviously at a loss for what to do. You tried to scooch away from him, but the pain was too much to hide, and a whimper escaped your lips. It was then that Sirius noticed the small drip of blood from your nose, a sign of something he knew all too well. With a pitying look, one you met with a hateful glare, he approached, hand fumbling with the handkerchief from his pocket. You flinched when he reached down, but he only held your chin gently, whipping the blood from your upper lip. He left without another word.

It was a miracle you were able to make it home that night without any further incident. Your parents cooled down, none the wiser to Sirius’s intervention, and prepped you for the next party. The Black’s were there too, of course, but you were far too embarrassed to look Sirius in the eye. But he simply gave you a soft smile and tilt to his head, keeping his pleasantries boring and impersonal. You were surprised, and suspicious. 

That is, until Sirius showed up at the last party of the summer with a slight limp and the smallest bit of blood still on his nostril, that understanding overcame you, and you gave him the subtlest of nods, passing a napkin over with the twitch of your nose. From then on, an unspoken pact formed between the two of you.

No words were exchanged during the school year. With Sirius entering Gryffindor, a fact you were both pleased with - a true escape from the pureblood nonsense - and devastated by - you were hoping to have an ally -, it was hard to justify talking to him. Winter and Summers were the only times you were able to sneak a small conversation here and there, but, for someone who loved the sound of their own voice, Sirius was surprisingly good at having a whole conversation with you with just his eyes. It was ridiculous, but for whatever reason, you began to trust Sirius Black.

It was why, during one of the worst moments of  your life, you were glad it was him who found you.

Sirius was there when  you were on the verge jumping off the balcony that summer night, your parents just having informed you they promised you to a man who could have been your grandfather. The man had leered at you when they left you alone, forcing himself onto you, grabbing everything that would eventually, legally, be his to possess. When you screamed, brandishing your wand, even though it had been drilled into your mind never to pull your wand on a Pureblood of higher status, the man laughed, a vile laugh that made your bones shake, and told you to get all the attitude out of your body before you walked down the aisle; he would not tolerate anything after that. The moment he stepped out, leaving you with nothing but the night air, you unconsciously turned to look at the stars. It was something of comfort, to find a constant like the stars. You took a moment, memorizing them one last time, before climbing up, the least graceful thing you had done in who knows however many years. Your uneven heels rocked you back and forth, a melancholy waltz, before you tipped forward.

Sirius’ hands clasped around your legs before you could fall, using his momentum to pull you back onto him and the solid ground. Your arms scraped painfully against the stone balcony, tearing through the delicate gloves on your hands and shredding your fine clothes, but Sirius’ body took most of the brunt of your fall. You could barely hear him over the ringing in your ears, too shocked at the fact that you were alive, that you didn’t fall, didn’t crash into the floor below like you so wanted, too overwhelmed to hear him yelling at you, wondering what you were thinking by standing on the ledge like that. Yelling at you for almost taking your life. Your gloves slowly dotted red, then black, as your tears joined to create the most unusual canvas of dotted pain. Suddenly it was too hard to breathe, to let out anything but a wail of despair, enough to render even the great Sirius, the man who always had something to say, to say nothing at all.

He did the only thing he could think of, the only thing he ever wanted anyone to do for him. He grabbed you and held you tight as you sobbed into his arms, begging not to be the one to save your family from ruin, begging to just let everything burn to the ground, setting your body alight so there would be nothing left to touch. 

He held you there until the morning light started to peak over the horizon, letting you cry until there was nothing but dry heaves left, until you were too weak to do more than finally let yourself completely rely on him to keep you propped up. Quietly and gently, more than you had ever been afforded before, he helped you stand, flooing the two of you back to your house. Your parents were already fast asleep, too high on the success of setting you up with a match that would bring riches to your decaying family once more to really care where you went. They knew, just as you did, there was nowhere for you to go but the path they made just for you. Sirius shooed away the only remaining awake House Elf to draw you a bath.

“I find that it helps,” he whispered, voice low in order to not bring any unwanted attention. “Hot water does wonders for shaky nerves.” 

He moved with practiced ease, steps so quiet you could barely hear the squeak of shiny dragonhide shoes, voice clear was quiet. It was in that moment that you realized he was just like you, trapped in a home that weighed so heavily you could do nothing but let it mold you or crush you, where punishment was more common than gratitude. You noticed the telltale shake of his hands, the same ones you had, the same ones many of your fellow Slytherin’s had - the ones that came from prolonged and constant exposure to punishment curses. 

But the smile he gave you that night was nothing but warmth, a rarity in your inner circle. He helped you with your outer layer of clothes, mindful of the way all your strength seemed to have disappeared, turning his head away to give you the illusion of privacy. When he gave you a tight lipped smile, bowing the way so many Purebloods were taught to do on their departure, you panicked, grabbing onto his arm so tightly you nails dug into his skin.

“No, please,” you begged. Tomorrow, you would be proud. Tomorrow, you would hold yourself up once more as you always did, no sign of insecurity to be seen. But today? Today, you had already wasted your will and composure. What was one more unrealistic wish? “Don’t leave me. I…I can’t-”

“Woah! Okay, okay. I won’t leave. I’m right here.” He flushed when you disrobed in front of him, but didn’t let go of your hand, helping you into the steaming bath. The two of you stayed in silence, either too scared to speak or too ashamed, but never letting go. When it was clear you were too overwhelmed to clean yourself, he used his free hand to run a gentle lather over your exposed skin, too delicate to do anything but provide the smallest amount of additional comfort. You fell asleep that night, warmed to your core, at ease for the first time in years.

And when he appeared at the party the following day, his usual smirk gone, in too much pain to do anything but whisper the punishment his parents saw fit to give him after staying out past curfew, it was all too easy to offer the same comfort.

You were there to have an escape from the countless Mother’s trying for his hand, and he was there to deter any more conversations with your fiance. He jostled you jokingly if he caught you in the hallways in between classes, and you always made sure to swing by the Gryffindor table on the way to your own to pinch him in return. On bad days, you seeked each other out, thankfully not needing the bath as neither of your parents could touch you while safe within the walls of Hogwarts. Instead you snuck into the kitchen, snacking on sweet things and improper treats, the kind which you’d never find back home. 

Sirius spoke of his friends often, of the comfort they brought him, of the promises they’d kept to always make him feel wanted. Remus was his love, you were his heart, and James…James was his light. He always spoke of James with such awe, reaching his hands out like he was cupping the summer sun in his hands in the only way he could describe his best friend. James made him laugh, made him feel like the cruelty of the world was just a shadow rather than a looming cloud, and made every tomorrow feel joyous rather than dreadful. Even though he had to return him every summer, James was there to hold his hand until he got there, and was the reason Sirius wasn’t being crushed under the pressure of defying his family. Your heart stung when Sirius talked about James, wanting to be that person for him, but with your darkness, there was nothing so bright you could do. If James was Sirius’s sun, and Remus his moon, you were happy to be his stars. Always there, but never the focus.

And then you met James, and everything Sirius said made sense.

The night James confessed to you, it was as if your world was suddenly lit by beaming rays of light when all you ever had were torches. Once the story started, you couldn’t stop. It was the first time, the only time, when you felt you truly had someone who would listen when you spoke your horrible truth, to someone who would actually care what happened to you. Your dormmates knew, but their stories were too alike to your own to be needed to be said aloud. Sirius was there, he was always there, but James…James was new. James was unpredictable, and brash, and quick tempered, and an idiot, but he was also warm. So very warm, that it felt like being gazed upon by the sun when you met eyes. His touch did far more to help than laying outside on a summer day, and when you’re with him, it felt, for the first time, that not everything was tainted by darkness. Even Sirius, your most beloved friend, was no stranger to it. 

So, when James pulled you into his warm hug, the kind that promised things would be okay, even if you were sure it never would be, you latched on, and never let go.

______________________________________________________________

masterlist  l hogwarts masterlist

[lunarw0rks]

hi! im not sure if you do any requests like this but if you wouldn't mind, with ghost or konig, where the reader is depressed and has suicidal ideations and ghost/konig save them before it's too late? ive gone through somewhat similar things and it would be comforting reading someone be there for them!

A/N: I don't mind requests like this, just read with caution, please! To anon, or anyone reading that has gone through this, you deserve happiness and are loved!! "988" is the nationwide hotline ♡

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° I hope you don't mind, but I chose Ghost since I haven't written for Kӧnig (YET) Italics are Simon's perspective when it's happening at the same time as reader.

Summary: You feel swallowed by depression, but Simon saves you just in time.

Warning(s): depression, talk of suicide, PTSD themes - DO NOT READ IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU!!, established relationship, GN!Reader, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff at the end

Word Count: 1.5k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST // have a request? ♡¸.•*' | ao3 ver.

In Your Arms // Drabble

The world's weight had been on your shoulders; the constriction on your chest gave you a constant state of crisis, the strain on your heart soon to break it to pieces, and most of all the strain on your mind.

Each waking moment was a gamble of numbness or overdrive. In the instances of numbness, you were withdrawn, coasting your way through meals, laying awake at night with a blank stare. When you were in overdrive, it was like each bad thought physically pilled itself atop you, increasing your irritability and defensiveness.

It was as if the real you were trapped inside somewhere, but you were being overruled by an enclosure of gloom.

Chores, conversations, and the people you loved dearly became a melancholy hassle. You hated every second of it, and most of all hated yourself for behaving like this. At first, you were begging for an out—some savior to snap you out of it.

But now, you felt hopeless—and were making plans to give yourself that out.

You finally had an opportunity, a few hours where you’d have the house to yourself, with Simon out for a few hours. The problem was, gathering the courage. Even though you had the thoughts raining down on you, it was a decision you would never be able to take back.

You were sat in the shared bedroom, on top of the bed you’d just remade. It had been God knows how long by now, and all you could do was stare blankly at the wall ahead, choking back sobs. You looked at his side of the room, seeing the stark contrast between his and yours.

When you thought of him, how he’d be better off this way, it nudged you toward your answer.

Simon noticed your off-balance behavior the day he arrived home. Despite telling you how lovely you looked, he could tell the isolation of his deployment had taken its toll. The bags under your eyes, the dark circles worsening, your sudden change in eating habits—something he greeted like an old friend.

He, of all people, understood the feeling. He just didn’t know how to confront it.

He was never good with his words, or his ability to provide comfort physically; he relied on his crisis training, and most of all, how much he loved you.

When he said he was going out with friends, he was. At first. He found himself sitting in the driveway with a pit in his stomach, his anxieties swallowing him. He was protective, to begin with, but paired with the behavior changes, he was practically trembling at the thought of something horrible happening.

He was white-knuckling the steering wheel, debating on spending his night inside with you. Guilt consumed him for even considering going out anywhere when you’d waited months for him.

His stomach was in knots, twisting and turning, begging him to give in to nausea overtaking him any second. Something was wrong, something was going to happen.

You were fighting yourself again. The thoughts were racing so hard you could swear you heard them buzzing around your head like an angry swarm of wasps, each of them a stinger in your skin.

You reached for the nearest object—the remote—then stood to your feet, sending it plummeting towards the wall in front of you. It shattered the hanging picture frame on impact, sending shards of glass around the bedroom.

It did nothing to silence the thoughts. The sudden rush of fury only fueled them, begging for you to do something more to stop them—the only option you felt you had left.

He had his car door open, gathering his things before he was on his way inside. He’d made his decision, he would rather spend the night with you.

Simon’s trained ear heard the faint shatter of glass, seeing that the upstairs bedroom was the only one lit. There was no hesitation; no second thought to make sure it wasn’t a critter in the garbage can or another household.

He unlocked the door swiftly, a hand hovering over the holster underneath his jacket. The downstairs was clear, nothing askew. He next went up the stairs, leaning in the direction of the bedroom to pick up any sound coming from it.

In his mind, he was fearing the worst, paired with the anxiety he was already having in the car. He’d been here before, with too many people. It couldn’t, no, wouldn’t happen again, not with you.

When the door creaked open, it revealed you, shriveled against the wall with your head in your hands. Beside you, was a broken picture frame, sent flying into pieces around the room. His mind put the pieces together—the irritability, the insomnia, the withdrawn behavior, his gut feeling—all coming together now.

But his worst fears hadn’t come true. You were alive. Alive, and in need of his help. His gut feeling, that painful ache in his stomach when he left, it was right.

His knees dropped to the ground beside you, ignoring the slices forming through his clothes. His entire focus was on you, nothing else.

“Love…” He whispered, grabbing ahold of your knee to make you look his way. When your pooled eyes met him again, he felt like his heart had been ripped in two.

The sight of you, the pain written in your expression. Not physical pain, not heartache, but hopelessness. A specific, known too well by him, expression.

Simon could barely stand it, the person he practically breathed for, fought for, succumbing to their sorry—and he could’ve been too late. The warmth of your flesh under his fingertips, how it shivered, he knew you were still here, still breathing.

He was at a loss for words, even for a man who spoke very little. Angry at himself, not you, for not saying something earlier on. His withdrawal was both a blessing and a curse—a lesson well learned, now that his life with you had flashed before him.

Without a second thought, he scooped you up, setting you gently on the neat bed. He remained standing in front of you, staring down at you with a foggy expression.

“I’m sorry,” You muttered, blinded by the tears.

Simon visibly shook his head, forcing yours into his chest. It wasn’t your fault, and if he could force you to believe that, he would. He didn’t have words to give you, only the comfort of his presence. He just held you; held onto your frame as you wept into his abdomen, soaking through the fabric of his tee.

Tears only teased at his own eyes, but never made it past them. Though internally, he was weeping for you, nearly inconsolable.

It was his job to follow orders, to do his duty. His duty now, was you. He had to be strong for you, always, otherwise he had no purpose left on this Earth.

When the sobs had turned into defeated sniffles, he dropped to his knees to meet your eye level. Him, never one for eye contact, but he couldn’t take his eye off you now.

“I’m here now, I promise.” His deep voice echoed through the room, bouncing off your repines for his comfort.

You were still in shock, how one minute ago you were so close to the edge, but the next he was by your side. The sorrow only subsided for the moment, but with him as a distraction, you knew you had at least one person there for you. One person who understood what you were going through, no doubt about it.

His large hands, the ones stained with the blood of his hands, gently cradling your face until you were lucid enough to give him your full attention. He was there for you, no matter how hard the stubborn thoughts tried to convince you he wasn’t.

They moved from your face, to your neck and arms, then your fingers, searching for any sign of physical injury.

“Let me help you, please…” Simon placed a small kiss on one of the tear droplets streaming down, wiping away the rest with his thumb. His hand went down again, clasping around yours tenderly as he routed you to the shared bathroom.

He grabbed a spare cloth off the rack, wetting it slightly in the sink as he traced it along each tear stain, his other hand on your waist the entire time. He was focused and stiff, but his eyes were gentle.

When he finished, he cupped your face again, touching his lips to yours, then your temple. “You are everything to me, got it?” He whispers against your forehead, eyes still wide, reeling with the shock of nearly losing you.

Your head was in his chest again as one hand remained on your waist, the other holding your head in place. He was savoring this, not taking you for granted for a second.

Deep inside, he was picturing all those months he’d left you alone to feel like this.

How each tear he wiped was a lash of regret. He was going to make up for it from now on. Whether he could help you one on one, or you talk to a professional, he would back you every step of the way.

That was his duty.

[trans-axolotl]

i fear i am the 988 hater of all time <3

[llestaire3]

if you keep ignoring me i’ll blow my fucking brains out.

[ryuzakemo128]

Heart Of Stone Part Three

Pairing: Dbf! Joel Miller x Female Reader

Trope: Enemies 2 Lovers | Age Gap

Content Warnings: Grief, Loss, Drug and Alcohol mentioned heavily, swearing, cussing, vaping is mentioned. Your mother is a bitch. More so than usual. Female reader is getting more unhinged in her anger?

Word Count: 988

"I don't think there is anything you can do to fix this or anything about this. A snake is what you are and the blindfold comes off finally. There is nothing left for you here. Take your leave now and forever." Your lips are curled into a thin lipped snarl. The grow in your throat audible this time.

You are tired of holding back for the sake of your mother’s supposed conformity implaced upon your own heart.

Joel shifts uncomfortable under your gaze. You. The version of you that you always managed to hide beneath the polite facade has no leash. No false sincerity tied to you or your words. 

No heed is taken. Nor do you want to 'take heed' either.

This is her punishment. Every moment now. You are keen to remind her. That she had chosen this path and she must suffer through it all.

A snake with Venom is an apt choice of words to describe you now. All this hate inside you is building.

Building you into a venomous snake.

An incredibly dangerous thing.

Unleashed. Untethered. Unbothered by their feelings.

Facts don't care for the feelings of others. Now you didn't care for their feelings either.

If they couldn't handle it. They were free to leave. You weren't going to tell them or force them to stay. They were more than welcome to leave in a huff anytime.

Dangerously beautiful. Esoteric. Alluring.

For all the right and wrong reasons.

Seductive. Femme Fatale. Wynorrific.

In ways, he will never get close to. Never again.

Never gonna find a love quite like yours.

You haven't been able to sleep well lately. Your mother's presence an unwelcome intrusion to your meticulous routine. The same one you adjusted to your own sense of grieving.

You can't sleep longer than six hours at most before you are already awake again.

It used to be five hours. In the days after your father passed on. The details of his passing etched into your subconscious like a hammer and chisel to the marble surface of your mind.

Tired. So tired of everything.

Willing to hurt everyone and anyone. Perhaps the word willing is too light in this particular context. Or perhaps it wasn't the right word to describe the level of anger trapped inside your soul.

Perhaps you were far too different for them to understand in the ways you wanted to be. Too different. Too unlike your mother in terms of not quite feminine like her or not quite masculine like your father.

An in-between. A merging combination of the two sides.

No miracle came to your door. They never do. Miracles are for those who need comfort in their repulsion.

In the idea that their ideals were the only ones that mattered, and to dam the ones who chose to reject them.

Why should you apologise? What did you have to apologise for?

You weren't going to console the same woman who selfishly tore your entire life apart like it meant nothing to you.

The adults pay no heed when a child suffers through the perils and dismay of a parent's failing marriage. It's always them who gets the backlash for speaking up about how it affects them.

They are told to suffer because dam them. Damn their feelings on the matter. May they suffer in silence. They deserve to be seen and not heard.

Adults should know better than to force their problems onto their offspring. Adults who deny, deny, deny their own issues have no business raising children. To project their own issues onto them selfishly.

To place a mirror in front of their faces is what you have fully intended. They had nothing to hide from you. You have every intention on using that against them both.

Any eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. Fair is fair. If they didn't like it? Maybe they should have thought better than to come back to this house again.

You couldn't wait to find a way to slice the proverbial knife inside, splitting the bone of his spine. Oh, the joy you would have to be on the brink of insatiable insanity.

Sure. You were no butcher. Sure, you had your heart set on a fine arts degree. But who are they to deny you this delicious new hobby you wish to partake in?

Can't mean nothing if you were so fucking eager to make sure he learns from his fucking mistakes.

More than a little eager.

The clenched jaw.

The fury in your eyes.

You weren't planning this.

You don't plan how your anger comes out to play either.

You were and always have been a beast wrapped inside the depths of human skin. Starved of affection. Thriving in utter darkness. Proud of the absurd amount of wrath you are about to wrought.

Joel had more of your animosity to contend with in the coming days. You were a far more gracious hostess than he had originally anticipated. Your house rules were the ones your mother had trouble swallowing.

The opportunity to revel in saying 'my house, my rules' were a delight, bring much needed glee. The kind you intent to have all to yourself. You didn’t intend on sharing such a lovely thing.

Joel and your mother are a nuanced nuisance to your inner hunger. The kind that you didn’t anticipate in having in the depths of yourself.

Your mother wasn't given an inch. If you did. She would take more than just your sense of self too. And she had taken more from you than you could ever get back.

There is no point in telling her either. She’ll only deny, deny, deny it all.

The animosity will grow as intended and sooner or later your mother will be forced to confront the kind of monster she really is deep on the inside like you always intended to force her to see.

Part One | Part Two | Part Four | Part Five

Divider Credit: @cafekitsune

[blckberrie]

A little backstory for why I write in the first place. Just a disclaimer: I'll talk about PTSD, addictions, physical abuse, sexual assault, sewer slide attempts, self-harm, etc. Please don't feel pressured to read my rant if you're uncomfortable with anything I listed.

To give you some info, I'm fourteen and addicted to self-harming. I will say, I don't cut, but I'd rather not say what I do because learning about it made me start doing it. Just remember you are special and even if you don't see it or believe it, people love you.

My writing started after my dad went to jail for, I think, the third time for domestic violence and I started writing my experience with what he put me through. He gave me PTSD and caused me to fear things like yelling, doors slamming/loud noises, and things being thrown near me or at me.

No, he didn't hit me, but he would hit/hurt my loved ones, and I never once heard him apologize and change. After one of the worst days of my life, I started having symptoms of PTSD and to this day, it's the hardest thing I deal with.

I thought the only way I could express my feelings or understand them in some way was to hurt myself, but I would hide it so I didn't cause anything. I still struggle with self-harm, and every day feels harder to get through, but I try my best to do it anyway.

Since the beginning of 7th grade to now, I have tried to OD three times. They weren't bad enough to be hospitalized but rather to make me vomit all day after and feel unreal. Also, I've had my appendix burst maybe 2/3 weeks after my 2nd attempt and I still feel I caused it by trying to OD.

Again, if you ever feel unwanted, I promise you suicide is not the way out. Please dial 988 to call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline if you ever think about doing it.

Something I've also never ever really talked about was the abuse and sexual assault I went through from an old friend I used to have. She would tell me that everything she did, like kissing me or touching me, was okay, and she did it with all her friends.

She'd act like she was dating me and she'd treat me like her girlfriend in secret but avoid me around others and would hide me.

She would threaten to hurt me if I told anyone that we were even friends so I wouldn't say anything for the longest time. She would tell me to go to the bathroom during school and would proceed to kiss and touch me, and if I complained, she'd slap me, punch me, and just say things to hurt me.

I would say that she caused a lot of my fears, and the last time we talked was the last month of 7th grade, she forced herself into my pants and continued to get so angry that I didn't want it and beat the shit out of me.

That time, I fought back and cried to her but she didn't care. The last thing she told me was to kill myself and that she'd never speak to me again. I hate admitting that I had tried the same night making that my first real try.

The next school year, she completely disappeared and I'm assuming she moved. She also blocked me on literally everything and yet I was still too scared to tell anyone.

The reason she kept trying to kiss and touch me was because, most times, I was too tired to stop her, so I'd let her do it. To this day, I haven't tried dating anyone in fear I'd find someone like her again.

I cry at night thinking about my scars, that girl, and my father. I fear myself for what I think when I let everything get to my head. I've tried coping with my problems by drinking and self-harm, and any time I could get my hands on drugs I felt safe doing.

I began writing down my feelings, what I went through, and really anything about myself. I had friends who wanted to read what I wrote and they'd tell me how beautiful it was. (I might share some one day)

I created this blog to write about stuff other than everything I went through and rather about what has helped me cope more safely. For me, this is about Hayden but I also love reading what others write and making friends.

I hope that my blog can help you too, even if it's by reading practical filth or heart-shattering angst. Whatever helps you, helps you and I hate shaming healthy coping methods.

I try to make people laugh and feel better about themselves because I know how it feels to forget what that's like.

I love you and I'm always here if you need to talk to someone.

[gunilslaugh]

Black & White

Kim Jungsu Summary: Jungsu was a part of the dark side and even though everyone told you to stay away from him you couldn’t. (non-idol au) WC:988 Warning:none

part 2 part 3 epilogue!

photo not mine credits to owner.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Jungsu said coldly as he took a seat beside you on the stone bridge. His black cloak settling next to your white one.

“I wanted to see you,” you say, turning your head to look at him. Jungsu turns to face you. He wears a blank expression. 

“There.” He turns away from you. “You’ve seen me. Now leave,” he tells you. 

“Jungsu.” You looked at him with sad eyes. 

“What?” he asked harshly. The sadness in you only grew. Jungsu had always been a little cold and standoffish, but he was never this cold to you. 

“I miss you,” your voice wavered as you pronounced the words. They were quiet, hardly above a whisper, but Jungsu heard them. He sighed at them. 

“I don’t miss you,” he firmly stated. You didn’t believe him. You didn’t want to, yet those words still felt like a stab to your chest. “I don’t miss you, so go home,” he ordered you. 

“That place doesn’t feel home anymore,” you disclose. Jungsu shakes his head. 

“I don’t care. It’s where you belong, so go back there right now,” he ordered you again. 

“Why did you do it?” You ignored his order. Jungsu lets out a frustrated sigh. 

“I told you why. I told you why multiple times! The answer isn’t going to change. I did it cause I wanted to. It was my plan all along. I was never good. I was just fooling you all.” 

“I don’t believe you!” you snapped. 

“Cause I had you fooled the most! You’re so naive and trusting. You want to see the good in everyone, but there is no good in me. There never was, so stop looking for it,” he bit. 

“Then push me,” you tell him, standing up.

“Push you?” He repeated your words. He followed you in standing up. You moved to stand on the edge of the stone bridge.

“Yes, push me.” You peered over the ledge looking at the long fall to the bottom. Then you looked back at Jungsu with a raised brow. “If you’re as evil as you say then you should have no problems pushing me.” Jungsu approaches where you stand. He places his hands on your shoulders. Your heart picks up. Was he really going to push you? He bent down to look you in your eyes. His eyes look extra dark from the cast of his hood's shadow on his face. You feel his hands apply a bit more pressure to your shoulders, making your breath hitch. 

“Go home.” His hands leave your body. He takes a step back and with a swing of his cloak he disappears into the darkness of the night. The breath you were holding comes out. You feel frustrated because the fact that you’re still standing there on the edge of the stone bridge means that he isn’t as bad as he claims to be. There’s definitely something that he’s not telling you. 

When you arrive back at the institute you’re met with your master standing outside the porcelain white gates.

“You saw him again?” your master says. 

“There has to be something,” you tell. Your master sighs and looks at you sympathetically. 

“He made his choice y/n. He betrayed us, fooled us. Why do you keep holding on to him?” your master asked. 

“Because I don’t believe it. There has to be another reason. That he wasn’t just pulling the wool over our eyes. Something changed him. He didn’t used to be so cold towards me,” you ranted. 

“Y/n.” Your master put a supportive hand on your shoulder. “I know this is hard on you because you were close with him, but the fact is he’s not who you think he was.”

“But-”

“No buts,” he cuts you off. “Look I’ve been very lenient with you because I know what happened really hurt you, but I think it’s time for me to put my foot down. If you see Jungsu again you will face repercussions for it, understand?”

“Master,” you say. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t risk anyone else dying because of him, especially you.” 

“He wouldn’t hurt me,” you state. 

“Y/n, he would,” your master argues.

“Then he would have pushed me tonight,” you argued back. 

“What are you taking about?” your master raised his voice. 

“I told him to push me! I stood on the edge of Gray Bridge and told him to push me, but you know what? He didn’t do it. He told me to go home.” 

“How could you be so reckless y/n! He-you know what I think you could use some time in isolation.” You knew telling your master about the events of tonight wouldn’t end well, so him sending you to isolation wasn’t a surprise. 

“Fine, I prefer being away from everyone anyway.” With that you walked through the porcelain gates and started making the trek towards isolation. Walking down the white stone paved path that glistened in the moonlight. You recall one of your visits you took to isolation. 

“It’s isolation not prison,” you hear a voice beside you. You turn your head to see Jungsu. 

“But it’s lonely,” you say

“It’s for our own benefit. It hones our energy.” He tapped your pearl pendant around your neck.

“I know, but I prefer to be with others,” you say. 

“Should I sneak in to see you then?” he suggested. 

“No, don’t get in trouble, but can you promise to see me in a week when I’m out?” you asked. 

“Sure, see you in a week.” His footsteps stopped on the white stones, leaving you to continue on. 

“See you.” you waved at him. He waved back. 

You simply refused to believe that Jungsu belonged to the darkside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thanks for making sure they got back safe,” your master says. 

“It’s not like I did it for you. If they get hurt then everything I did was for nothing,” Jungsu states.

part 2 part 3 epilogue!

taglist: @purplelady85 @gingerjunhan @chewednails @ezlynkisses @mon2sunjinsuver @mxlly143

comment or message me to be added!

[carrawayband]

Making a notes game whew one of the goals is “I’ll stop self harming for xyz time” is fricking gross. If you can stop self harming you don’t need clout to do so- so just stop and if you have an actually problem and can’t actually stop why are you broadcasting that for tumblr points.

If you are generally struggling with self harm reach out to someone you trust NOT random people on the internet for likes. Primary care physicians can get you in touch with a licensed professional to help you work through your problems and in the event that you cannot afford that search “(your county) free mental health resources” and you’ll likely find free resources to help you get through whatever you’re struggling with. If that doesn’t work message me and I will honest to god help you find free resources in your area.

If you’re currently going through something and it can’t wait call or text:

US + Canada 988

UK 111

[letsplaydoct0r]

gonna get high tn :D

[llestaire3]

I genuinely obsess over anyone that interacts with to the point it's concerning.