Trigger Warning - Blog Posts

「Hate You, Love You」 [Soukoku || ShinSoukoku]

– 𝙻.𝚁. 𝚂𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚝

•Mature Audiences 18+ - TW listed on Wattpad & Ao3 summary (links below)•

[WIP]

Bungo Stray Dogs Fanfic with skk & sskk + RanPoe set after season 2 with various spoilers

~summary~

"What is love, and how do you get rid of it?"

Dazai doesn't typically feel any emotions, at all- or at least he can't understand them. He hates that Chuuya makes him feel emotions, specifically the emotion of love, so he in turn despises Chuuya for it instead.

And it's driving him crazy.

"I won't let you get away this time."

Chuuya is doing his best to get over Dazai, but as usual, nothing goes according to plan for him. No matter how much Chuuya tries to deny it or change them, he can't get rid of his feelings.

So he finally does something different about it.

Or:

Dazai struggles with the concept of love, and his past catches up with him from how he chooses to deal with experiencing feelings and things he thinks he doesn't deserve as someone outside of humanity; and he makes it everyone's problem.

Links:

Original:

Prologue: complete

Part 1: complete

Part 2: updating

Rewrite:

Prologue: Complete

Part 1: Unreleased

Part 2: Unreleased

Y'all, I woke up from a nap yesterday and opened tumblr to browse some dp x dc.

Tell me why the first fic that popped up was Danny being held captive and s**ually assaulted by the GIW! (I'm censoring the word because I don't want to assault anyone's eyes like mine were)

Like, I know this fandom likes angst, but geez!

I banished that thing like it was a demon and I had to cleanse my pallet or whatever the term is because I was immediately put in a bad mood.

This is why you gotta block certain tags or words and probably don't reach for your phone first thing.

I need to get back into reaching for my Bible instead. Let my eyes take in the good news instead.

anyways i dont wanna see m*lanie m*rtinez on my dash ever again because she is literally a fucking rapist

WHY THE FUCK DID NOBODY WARN ABOUT THE DAMN EXPLODING RATS AT THE BEGINNING OF STRANGER THINGS 3??

Angst ask: Oikawa gets into an intense argument with his s/o and goes to work angry, turning off his phone to spite them. Because of this, he misses the last text his s/o sends him before they end up dying (in like a robbery or bank heist, etc. You decide).

TRIGGER WARNING: DEATH AND BLOOD. 

Keep reading

11/14/22 UPDATE: I’ve taken both “Naruto: The Last King, The Last Priest” and “Therapist R. J. Hill” off my etsy store. Both comics can be read, in their entirety, on this tumblr.

It’s here! A hard copy version of my comic -- including a ten page sequel! $5.00 + shipping

I was debating whether or not to post the sequel online. I thought maybe the sequel would be the motivator for people to buy the hard copy, but I already have mixed feelings about selling fanwork, so I’m gonna go ahead and post the sequel here.

That said, purchasing a hard copy helps me out. I’m hoping to put the money towards some color risograph zines that I can take to an upcoming comix convention.

I’m putting the sequel under a cut because, while it doesn’t contain explicit imagery, it does involve discussion of a parent making inappropriate/incestuous comments towards a child.

Click here to read more

This is as far as I had planned these comics going. I may revisit the idea, but probably not for awhile. Thanks for the wonderful messages that y’all have sent me!

My Etsy: LINK / My Ko-Fi: LINK

Clients’ names and personal information have been omitted to retain their privacy.

You can read the sequel here: LINK

You can buy a digital copy of this and the sequel here: LINK

You can buy a printable copy of this and the sequel here: LINK

75% of the profits from sales are donated to the Northwest Community Bail Fund and the Transgender Education Network of Texas. The remaining 25% covers the various fees of selling online.

My Etsy: LINK / My Ko-Fi: LINK

11/14/22 UPDATE: I’ve taken both “Naruto: The Last King, The Last Priest” and “Therapist R. J. Hill” off my etsy store. Both comics can be read, in their entirety, on this tumblr.

So if you go to grad school for art therapy, you may end up taking a ferry out to an island to visit an aged psychoanalytic art therapist and present her with drawings of serial killers in exchange for her wisdom.

That's what I will be doing with my Saturday!

I'm giving her a picture of Jeffrey Dahmer and if the trip turns out to be some sort of elaborate murder mystery, please avenge my death.

Also, a collage piece about Edith Kramer and Margaret Naumburg, two early art therapists.

My Etsy: LINK / My Ko-Fi: LINK

Dreamed that my parents were going to give a power point presentation about my gender identity at some sort of conference.

In the presentation, my mom was contending that I was actually an addict, addicted to the idea of being transgender, and that if I went into recovery like a drug or alcohol addict, then I wouldn't want to transition anymore.

I edited the power point to include a bullet point stating that "the subject thinks this theory is a load of bullshit."

I guess working in rehab is rubbing off on my unconscious mind.

Well, my "Hannibal" piece didn't get accepted to Banquet, which sucks because I worked really hard on this and I think it turned out really well.

On the positive side, I have an illustration that I worked really hard on and it turned out really well!

I was inspired by sweetmeats -- food made from offal, such as intestines, testicles and the thymus -- and floral china plates.

Also, I learned that Hugh Dancy is really fucking hard to draw. Mads Mikkelsen has such a distinctive face that he's rather easy to draw, but with Hugh, if you get some detail just a little bit off, it doesn't look like him anymore.

My Etsy: LINK / My Ko-Fi: LINK

STARCLAN'S JUDGMENT : GUILTY

Rise of the Clans RP is OPEN for new members! <3

STARCLAN'S JUDGMENT : GUILTY

Rise of the Clans RP is OPEN for new members! <3

RISE OF THE CLANS - CONTENT / TRIGGER WARNING , BANNED CONTENT , SKILL LEVEL

CONTENT / TRIGGER WARNING: This roleplay group contains content with mature themes present within the canon warrior cats series, including but not limited to topics such as violence, gore, predator attacks, animal death, character/young character death, family death, torture, neglect/abuse, abandonment, murder, stillbirth, starvation, severe illness and infection, and may also contain strong language and swearing both in and out of character. While we always require & provide proper censors and warnings whenever these themes are present, please keep in mind these themes may be introduced indirectly or directly to your roleplaying experience. Viewer & participation discretion is advised!

BANNED CONTENT: Because we are a minor-friendly group, absolutely no 18+/NSFW content is allowed to be within or associated with the group whatsoever, both in and out of character. This is including but not limited to sexual content, any innappropriate relationships between adults, as well as adult and underage individuals, (il)legal substance usage and abuse, self harm, suicide-related topics, detailed depictions of severe abuse, and anything that falls within our zero-tolerance policy. You may not share, link, mention, insinuate, or otherwise introduce mild, suggestive, or explicit 18+ content that falls within these topics to this roleplay in ANY manner whatsoever.

Intentional abuse of introducing banned content to the roleplay will result in immediate discipline, up to immediate banning from the group based on grievance, and you will not be permitted to rejoin once more.

SKILL LEVEL: Rise of the Clans is an English-Literate Roleplay/Writing/Art group. We welcome all roleplayers of any skill level: beginners to the world of art, writing, and roleplay are more than welcome to join! Please keep in mind, however, that this group will have minimums for reading comprehension, writing, and roleplay-related activity requirements to maintain membership within the group. There is a lot of reading of lore, mechanics, etc. to be able to participate fully within Rise of the Clans. Please only join if you feel your skill levels are enough to meet the minimum reading, writing, and roleplay literary requirements! Being able to create artwork is not a necessity to be able to participate in this roleplay: you may use any artwork that you have the consent and rights to use. If a roleplayer chooses to use others' artwork with prior consent and permission, this artwork must be properly credited. Those who are brand new to art, however, are encouraged to begin trying within this group: we strive to support and foster a new artist’s journey into the world of art! AI artwork is NOT accepted within Rise of the Clans whatsoever. We will not accept traced or stolen artwork, and pre-emptively ban those with a public record of doing so. Anyone caught violating rules in regards to artwork will result in immediate removal and a permanent ban.

Are you still doing the emoji thing? If so 🎥 and 🔪 please :)

🎥- what show are you currently binging on?

I know this is gonna sound kinda silly but I’ve been binging on the old Bakugan cartoon show. That show was the shit and always will be 😤😤 I was so upset when I saw they remade it on cartoon network and they just absolutely ruined it so I decided that I would re-live my childhood and make the pain just a bit more bearable 

🔪- scariest/creepiest experience?

I think one of the worst experiences I’ve had was last year when I was walking to school in the summer because I had cheer practice. Half way there a car pulls up next to me and a man is asking where I’m going and if I needed a ride. I told him I was going to school and that it was fine I didn’t need a ride. 

He kept insisting that it would be no trouble and that he could take me but I kept declining the ride because I knew better then to get in a car with a stranger. I got a bad vibe from him and I kept trying to walk away and continue my way to school because it wasn’t too far and I didn’t want to be late to practice but no matter what I said he would slowly keep driving next to me. Finally, after telling him multiple times that I didn’t need a ride and that I had to go, he finally left but not before saying, “Alright well I’ll see you around”. 

I didn’t think anything of it, taking it that he finally gave up and that I’d never see him again in my life, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case. 

Two days later I was walking to practice again and I see the same car driving down the street but in the other direction. I was a little skeptical but thought that there was no reason to be worried and that it was probably just someone with the same car. But right when I heard the brakes screech after passing by me, I got this horrible feeling in my stomach and I knew I had to get away.

I quickened my pace and started calling a friend so that I would look like I was busy talking and hopefully he would leave me alone. It was the same case, the car was driving slowly next to me but the man didn’t say anything. I looked at him and he gave me this sinister smile and waved at me, waiting for me to get off the phone. He saw that I was taking my time talking to my friend and he mouthed to me “do you want a ride”.

I shook my head no and started walking faster than I already was, still on the phone. After about 5 minutes he sped off and I’ve never felt so relieved. 

After that, I told my cheer coach and she told me to be careful and that she’d buy me a can of pepper spray and if anything to call her because she knew I lived close by. 

I started taking a different route that week to school to avoid seeing that man again. It worked that week, and when I went to my dads house the next week, I got rides to practice because he wasn’t working at the time and we lived much farther. The week after that, I went back with my mom and I kept using the new route and this process seemed to work for a few weeks after.

One day, I woke up later than I anticipated to and I took the old route because it was faster to get to school. I was jogging to school and I hear a car behind me and a wolf whistle from the driver. It was the same fucking guy and he kept driving behind me, clearly to enjoy the view. At this point I’m sprinting to school because 1. I can’t be late to practice and 2. this guy won’t stop following me. 

Finally I reach the stoplight in front of my school and wait at the corner. As I was waiting for the cross walk sign to give me the signal to go, this fucker pulls up next to me and asks me if this was my school. I say nothing to him, not wanting to give him any of my personal information. 

I go to walk down the crosswalk, but he cuts me off and literally parks there in front of the corner. At this point I’m terrified. He knows my route to school, he knows where I go to school, and he keeps following me and begging me to get in his car. When I looked a him again, he has this evil look on his face and in the passenger seat there is a knife. I don’t know if he gave me that look because he knew I saw it but I knew I absolutely had to get away from him no matter what it took.

At this point I’ve had enough and I’m literally screaming at him “What the fuck are you doing”  “Move your fucking car”  “Leave me alone”  “Just let me go already” 

I’m on the brink of tears and I try walking around his car and he fucking moves it forward. At this I bolt across the street, not caring that the crosswalk sign is at 2 seconds and I literally run for my life to the school with tears running down my face. 

I ran into my soccer coach, who had just finished up practice with his varsity team and he immediately asks me what’s wrong and hugs me and I just break down. I told him everything that had happened and he was appalled at what he heard. He called campus security and told them to look out for the car and the man I described. 

After that, I felt better and he walked me to my cheer practice and told my other coach what had happened and to tell all the other girls to be careful. My cheer coach got emotional and hugged me and asked if I wanted to take the day off but I told her I was fine and that i could practice.

After practice, my soccer coach and cheer coach pulled me aside and walked me over to the main office where police were. In the front of the school was the man being bent over the hood of a police car with his hands cuffed behind his back. The police then asked me questions if I knew him and what happened with him. I explained to them everything I knew and the told me that had been wanted for cases of battery and sexual assault. After that I broke down into tears again because I could have been another victim if I would have gotten into his car. 

I don’t know what has happened to that man but I know that he was having multiple charges pressed against him but I haven’t seen him since then.

I thank God everyday of my life because who knows what would have happened if I got into his car or never told anyone. I just hope that this never happens to anyone else and if anyone is experiencing this same situation, please, i beg of you, please don’t ever get into a strangers car, no matter how convenient it may seem at the time or how nice they might look. Tell someone because you never know what could happen.

TW: suicide attempt

A year ago, tonight was the night, I tried to kill myself by overdosing on my antidepressant and antianxiety medication.

There are a lot of parallels between that night and tonight: I was alone in my room, I had smoked, I thought about how lonely I am even after being surrounded by people I love and who love me.

I was stuck in an overthinking loop that night, I just couldn't get out of it. My mind kept on telling me that there's only one way to end it so that's what I did. I tried to end everyone's misery (I thought I was a burden on everyone, that they would be better off without me) so I did what I did.

I ended up being a burden.

I got into emergency, then ICU, which was the loneliest I've ever felt.

After being at home, listening to my parents taunting me every chance they got, I kind of got better.

I'm not always happy but I'm also not crying my eyes out every night.

I'm just okay. Getting by.

I thought I'll cry tonight but nothing so far. Does that mean I've grown? Or am I stronger? Or I just don't care anymore.

Sooooo... I’ve wanted to open up about this for awhile. Still debating on if I want to put a video about this on my yt or not but for now I’ll just post this piece here.  

As much as like to be a fun happy go lucky person, life isn’t perfect for me. It’s not for anyone.  So, I’ve started making vent art. This is probably one of my favorites not just because of how I accomplished gore and flat neon colors pretty decently, but it helped me get something out that I feel on a bit of a daily basis.  Thethering. Constant expectations and different requests and expectations pulling me in different directions and as I try to meet them all or escape, I only find that I'm hurting myself and others around me and I can’t or rather I SHOULDN’T say anything about it. 

I’m not trying to be a sad sack completely out of no where, but I also want to start being more honest with myself and those I care about instead of just saying that everything is always ok. Its OK to not be OK, and I’m really happy to finally be learning this lesson Even if it’s been a hell of a struggle to do so. 

Thanks for reading and God bless. 

TW

I h@te myself so much rn, I purg3d again and I h@ate mys3lf for it..

if i see one more national boyfriend day post im throwing myself into traffic

there is probably nothing good for you here.

• Adam/Adrian (i am indecisive call me fuckface if you want idc)

• 21

• he/they

a vent blog or something idk there are many trigger warnings

Spring Break Fever by

chrono96

Right before their first spring break at NYU, MJ comes over to Ned and Peter's apartment for a favor: she needs someone to spend a week with her and her family in Hawaii, and come as her date to her aunt's wedding so her family will finally stop tormenting her about being single.

There's one catch, though: Peter and MJ can't stand each other, and entangling them in a fake relationship will definitely ensure chaos...and maybe something else.

cover artwork for popee the performer zine

Mad

There is only so long I can hold my horror art back...

3DS drawings

To the fanfictoin

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59597383

You are my sunshine

Rape is multifaceted

*TRIGGER WARNING*

I heard somewhere, 'Rape is not about sex it's about violence and dominance.' and I couldn't agree more, but this also made me think that there are so many forms of rape, it's not only physical but mental, social and emotional.

Whenever a girl is told that she should not do something because she is a female, she gets mentally raped, whenever a girl is not given equal respect in society, she gets socially raped and whenever all this continues, she gets emotionally raped. It's not like only men are raping women but I think women are a part of this too, in reality it's the whole patriarchy. I don't think there is a single woman who has not been raped in some form, atleast once by this patriarchy and like physical rape it leaves pain, wounds and kill us from within.

I know rape is a heavy word and I should not use it like this and sorry if it triggers anyone but for me what women go through on a daily basis is also not that simple. It's just my thoughts and nothing more.

[It is what it is; Part Two] - [SKZ Bang Chan X M!Reader]

Part One

‼️Trigger Warning(s) : Bullied, Abuse, Rape, Depression, Suicidal‼️

“Are you still hanged up over it?” Seo ChangBin questions the red headed as he tried to secretly glance over his roommate who sat at the corner of the classroom. “If you’re gonna appear every single time we end a period, you’re labelling yourself as a creep. It’s been a week.”

It has been a week.

A week since that night where Bang Chan couldn’t forget the tiny little tint of hurt flashing across M/N’s eyes. He didn’t go after M/N when he left the restaurant but, as he sat back down, a sense of guilt ambushed him, stabbing his heart that the pain was almost physical. Why? Why did he feel that way? This shouldn’t be hurting him, this should only hurt M/N so why was he hurt? M/N didn’t come back that night and Bang Chan barely caught any sleep either. It was early in the morning the next day when Bang Chan heard the door of the dorm open and M/N came stumbling into the room, tipsy, stench in cigarettes and alcohol. Bang Chan got up to sit on his bed, his eyes observing every move of the latter who seems to ignore him indefinitely.

“M/N……I…. I can explain.” Bang Chan stammered.

M/N turned to him, his eyes glassy and unfocused, “It is what it is. You don’t need to waste your breath explaining and I don’t need to waste my time listening.”

That was all M/N said before dropping onto his bed, burying himself under his blanket. Bang Chan swore something in him cracked. Ever since then, neither of them shared any word or look even, at least not M/N. Bang Chan still stole glances over his roommate whilst M/N simply pretended as if Bang Chan was nothing but, a thin of air.

“Has M/N been different lately in class?”

ChangBin thought for a moment before shaking his head, “not really. He is still a quiet and reserved kid like he always was since forever.”

“T…That’s good i guess.”

ChangBin rolled his eyes, “seriously? Why are you so concerned about M/N?”

“I…I… I’m not concern about him, i….i just wanna see him suffer?” It came out as a question but for sure, ChangBin didn’t believe the latter.

ChangBin sighed and patted Bang Chan’s right shoulder, “I won’t judge if you end up caring about how he had felt you know. Besides, you did have to go through a lot just for a bet.”

At his words, Bang Chan winced. He did had to go through a lot to get to know M/N. He had to learn and study M/N deeply, taking notes of his liking and dislikes, his little pet peeves, etc. When M/N confessed to Bang Chan, there was no doubt that Bang Chan felt something, Bang Chan could feel the sincerity of M/N’s heart. Bang Chan had to do something to reconcile with M/N, or at least, get M/N to just look at him even for a minute and so the gifts came in. Bang Chan had left gifts with notes on M/N’s study table.

‘M/N, I bought you the cake you liked from the bakery nearby.’

‘M/N, I bought the puff you craved for before.’

‘M/N, i got this flowers cause it reminded me of you.’

‘M/N, look at this grumpy cat plush. It looks just like you.’

‘M/N, this was cute so i got it for you.’

‘M/N, the novel was going for sale at the bookstore so i thought of you.’

Bang Chan felt the ache in his heart looking at the untouched gifts on M/N’s table. It didn’t seem like M/N even care to look at them. This had been even worse than when Bang Chan had know him for the first time. The walls that Bang Chan had torn down previously was rebuilt with even more concrete security and to be frank, Bang Chan was losing hope.

Bang Chan dramatically plops onto the lunch table across ChangBin and whined, “he doesn’t even touch it, i doubt he even looked at it. I had to throw all the cake(s) and pastries that turned bad. Binnie, give me ideas please. I have to do something. I need to apologise to him.”

“You’re finally admitting that you don’t want to see him suffer?” ChangBin smirked. Bang Chan sighed in defeat and nodded to his words. “I mean, if the gifts aren’t working, perhaps do something more brazen? Like, just grab him and make him look at you and talk it out.”

“It could work, maybe?”

“Oh, by the way, have you heard about it?”

“About what?”

“It could be a rumour but proof has been circulating that M/N use to be a porn star. He was involved in a child pornography.” ChangBin said and Bang Chan gasped, “it’s sickening knowing that people are actually into it.”

“Please, tell me you’re joking.”

“I told you it could be a rumour. I haven’t seen it for myself.”

Bang Chan abruptly stood from his chair, taking his belongings before he rushes out of the cafeteria. Reality smacked him hard on the face. Just when he thought he knew M/N that well, there was still some untold secrets kept by him. Could this be the reason why M/N declared Bang Chan was his will to live? Could this be why M/N confessed that Bang Chan had saved him from himself? Could M/N have gone through severe depression because if the rumour had been true, it could tear down one’s soul? Now, Bang Chan felt even worse than before. The red headed find himself sprinting to his dorm room, barging into it. There, M/N sat on his bed with his phone in his hand.

“You,” Bang Chan took a deep breath, trying to calm the adrenaline from sprinting.

He locked the door to their dorm room, stomping towards M/N and he stood right in front of the latter who couldn’t care less to even look at him once.

“You…” Bang Chan breathed, “did you know that there are rumours going on that you were involve in a child pornography?” Bang Chan could see how M/N’s frail begin to tremble. “Is it true?” This time, M/N’s head dropped as if he was a child ashamed of being scolded. “M/N? Is it true that you were involved in a child pornography?”

“And so what?” Bang Chan breath hitched as soon as M/N spoke. It had been awhile since he last heard the latter talk and his voice still never failed to give shivers down his spine.

Bang Chan honestly didn’t expect himself to feel anger arise in him at M/N’s response, “so what?! You should’ve told me! You should’ve explain to me the reason why you’ve been telling me that i saved your life! I could’ve understood you better and—,”

“AND WHAT?!” It happened in a blink of an eye. M/N stood up, pushing Bang Chan hard that he had fell onto his bed, “SO YOU CAN TELL CHANGBIN AND YOUR GROUPS OF FRIENDS THAT I AM THE CHILD IN THAT PORNOGRAPHY? SO YOU CAN CONFIRM THE RUMOURS THAT HAVE BEEN CIRCULATING AROUND?! SO YOU CAN JOIN THE SENIORS WHO ARE INTENDING TO RAPE ME?” Raged was seen across M/N as he towers over Bang Chan, spit flying from his lips. In that moment of anger he'd said everything, whatever was most hurtful, whatever would give him the opportunity to relieve himself, “IF I HAD TOLD YOU EVERYTHING THAT HAD HAPPENED IN THE PAST, WHAT COULD YOU HAVE DONE? COULD YOU SAVE ME FROM BEING ADOPTED BY CRIMINALS? COULD YOU SAVE ME FROM BEING SOLD TO PEOPLE, TO HUMANS FOR THEIR PLEASURE? WOULD YOU UNDERSTAND THE TRAUMA AND SUFFOCATION I FELT? WOULD YOU UNDERSTAND ME IF I SAID THAT I HAD TO KILL PEOPLE BECAUSE ALL OF THEM RAPED ME AT ONCE? COULD YOU BE HYUNJIN HYUNG TO ME? COULD YOU BRING BACK HYUNJIN HYUNG TO ME? COULD YOU STOP ME FROM TRYING TO KILL MYSELF EVERY. SINGLE. FUCKING. NIGHT?”

Bang Chan felt his heart throbbed immensely at M/N’s words. The pain and despair he had made M/N felt was nothing compared to what M/N had been through.

“I LOVED YOU! I LOVED YOU CHRISTOPHER BANG! YOU CAME INTO MY LIFE LIKE A FUCKING ANGEL IN DISGUISE. FINALLY, I COULD BREATHE! I FOUND A WILL TO LIVE! I WAS ECSTATIC GENUINELY HAPPY TO BE WITH YOU. I WAS HOPING THAT ONE DAY WHEN WE GRADUATE, GET A JOB, GET A HOUSE TOGETHER, I WOULD MARRY YOU. I WOULD MAKE YOU THE HAPPIEST MAN ALIVE IN THIS WORLD! BUT NO! EVERYTHING WAS A FUCKING BET! EVERYTHING CAME CRUSHING DOWN ONCE AGAIN AND I WANTED TO DIE IF IT WASN’T FOR HYUNJIN HYUNG’S LAST WISH! I WANTED TO JUST JUMP OFF THE BRIDGE THE NIGHT I—,”

M/N stopped himself abruptly, his breath ragged from his outburst, tears streaming down his cheeks. He took a second to breathe, rethinking about that words he had retorted. M/N felt guilty. He shouldn’t have burst out to Bang Chan out of anger. He should’ve just ignored him like he had been for the past few weeks. He shouldn’t have made the impression that Bang Chan had made M/N think about suicide. No one was at fault but, him. M/N was at fault to even exist in the first place.

“M/N,” Bang Chan’s chest heaved with each sob, breath catching in irregular gasps. Tears streamed down his cheeks, unchecked and hot against his skin. His throat tightened, a lump forming that made it difficult to speak. In that moment, M/N felt his heart shatter into pieces. In all his years of living, someone was crying for him. No one should need to cry for him, especially Bang Chan. He didn’t know what he should do and so, M/N left the dorm room, leaving the sobbing one.

“Here, I got you water.” ChangBin sat on the Bang Chan’s bed as the latter hide himself under the covers. Bang Chan finally crawled out and took the water.

“Why are you here?” His voice was hoarse as if he had been crying for days but, in actually fact, it had only been a couple of hours since M/N left him.

“M/N came running to find me. He said that I should come here and take care of you.”

“He did?”

ChangBin nodded, handing over a warm towel to Bang Chan, “i assume you guys had a fight? None of your faces look any better. You look like a puffer fish and so did M/N just now. I’m surprise you guys can see the world with those swollen eyes.”

“I fucked up ChangBin. I fucked up so bad that i just wanna go back to the time i met M/N for the first time.” Bang Chan sniffled.

“That bad huh?”

“I love M/N, i really do. Even if it wasn’t a bet, I would’ve still fallen for M/N.”

“Finally.” ChangBin smiled, “took you so long to admit it. I apologise to M/N earlier on and explain to him the real reason behind the bet. If isn’t for our seniors who threaten us to make our college life miserable on the bet, we wouldn’t have done it. Surprisingly, M/N asked for the seniors names and when i told him, he was silent.”

“What do you mean?”

“He said those seniors had been after him for a while now. He mentioned something about them knowing the truth from their government parents. I didn’t understand him though, do you?”

“Wait, did you said government parents?”

“Yes.” ChangBin affirmed, “Tae-il sunbaenim’s parents are apart of the government ministers.”

“If they are government minister, it means they technically can know each and every person’s background don’t they?”

“Technically yes,”

“Oh no.”

“Woah, where are you going?” ChangBin was taken aback when Bang Chan practically fly out of his bed, grabbing his phone and putting on his shoes. “Can you at least explain something to me?”

“I need to find M/N. I need to talk to him. I need to apologise. I need,” Bang Chan took a deep breath, “I need M/N.”

“Oh, good luck.”

Bang Chan wasn’t gonna waste anytime because if his institution was right, he needs to find M/N fast. Upon knowing another truth, Bang Chan assume that Tae-il and his gang of friends knew about M/N’s past thus they might have been the ones with the intention to rape M/N all this while. This time, Bang Chan was determine to be save M/N. He needs to. He spammed M/N’s phone with calls and messages but to no avail, there was no response. He searched through the campus asking around if anyone had seen M/N but everyone looked at him in disgust instead. That was until Bang Chan came across a group of seniors in the hallway, he didn’t approach them but, he overheard their conversation that put him sick to the stomach.

“Damn was M/N good.”

“I would do him again.”

“Tae-il is making a fortune.”

“Fucking him was definitely better than a woman.”

“Though the location could be better. The gym storeroom smelled horrible.”

BINGO.

Bang Chan sprinted as fast as a wind to the gym storeroom. He was met with groups of people hanging outside the storeroom. Bang Chan ignored the calls from the people that had deemed to be his ‘friends’ as he stomped into the storeroom. His blood turns cold the moment he was met with what was happening. M/N was tied up in ropes and Bang Chan could see the friction burns underneath it. He was naked, blindfolded, body covered in bruises and blood. As if M/N was a doll, three people were doing the deed, raping him simultaneously on the front and back. Tae-il sat by them, on the chair, cigarettes in his hand smirking proudly as if he had done the best thing in the world.

“FUCK OFF!”

Rage was all he saw. He couldn’t think ahead as he lounge towards them. RED. That was all Bang Chan could see. He didn’t know how or what had happened but he felt someone pulling him away from Tae-il and he came into realisation. Tae-il lay on the floor a couple of feet away from M/N, beaten almost to death. He could hear ChangBin telling him that everything was okay now. No, it wasn’t. M/N was still blindfolded, unaware of what was happening, trembling and curling up on the ground. Bang Chan realised he couldn’t save M/N. He failed to save him.

“M/N?” Bang Chan’s hand trembled as he reached out to M/N. He released the ropes, covering M/N’s fragile frail with the blanket Lee Know had handed over. “M/N, its me. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Bang Chan removed the blindfold and M/N’s e/c orbs looked at him but, his heart shattered. M/N wasn’t crying neither did he show the intention to cry. His eyes wasn’t even watery to begin with. All M/N did was stare into Bang Chan’s teary eyes, lifelessly and Bang Chan broke down as he embraced M/N tightly.

What had he done?

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Author’s Note: Apologies for the late update but, here it is! I might just add one last part to this! A happy ending? Or shall I wreck my own heart with a sad ending?

words suck

What are words?

What could she say?

Everything she wanted to say was stuck in her throat, all the ‘I care about you’s and the ‘I’m not mad at you, I just care about you so much that I can’t bear it when you don’t care about yourself’ and all the ‘I don’t know’s.

Because really, she didn’t know.

She didn’t know a lot of things.

She didn’t know what to say to the self-deprecating comments on the side or the casual mentions of not eating as much and being to unhealthy or the anything.

Did she talk about it seriously? Did she sit him down and tell him that he was perfectly fine just the way he is? No. That would make him uncomfortable.

Did she just dismiss or negate the self-deprecating comments and hope he took it seriously? Maybe, but there’s a chance it won’t work.

What are words?

Her parents had always told her that she took things too seriously. In truth, she just didn’t see the point in things not taken or said literally. What was the point in saying something if it isn’t true and you can’t help anyone by saying it?

Sometimes, she wished everyone else took things as seriously as she did. If they did, she wouldn’t have to worry about miscommunication and honesty.

If they did, maybe they’d listen to her.

She had so much to say, but finding a strategy to say it and coming across in the right way so they would pay attention was stressful.

She really wished she could find a way to talk to him in the right way.

What are words?

Taken literally, words are a form of communication, verbal and nonverbal. Words come in many languages and interpretations, so there’s a million ways to say anything that comes to mind.

Words are also a way to shape and share thoughts, going above and beyond the basic need for survival most animals prioritize.

But, as humans are the apex predators, they have a lot of freedom to just think.

And think they do.

What is the meaning of everything? Is there a purpose to life? Is there a reason we’re here? Should we even be here?

Should I even be here?

Why?

And she doesn’t have an answer. She doesn’t know what to say. She never does.

She’s been given a thousand answers to her million questions, and although that’s a lot of answers, it’s not enough in the context.

Will she ever know enough?

Will she ever have enough?

…

Will she ever be enough?

And she doesn’t know.

So she keeps asking questions and hoping for a single answer per every hundred or thousand, and hopes she’ll be enough to help him.

Hopes she’ll be enough to help anybody.

Maybe everyone else sees that she helps one person, and that she must be good at it, and they don’t see the dozen before that she couldn’t help.

Is it enough?

...

Words suck.

it went to voicemail

“I want you to understand that I’ll never be sorry for doing this,” he choked out. He couldn’t cry now, not now, when he was already so close. “Remember when I said that there’s probably only one thing in my life that I’ll never be upset about messing up?” His eyes were shifting now, across the moonlit skyline that showcased about five percent of the stars in the sky and the skyscrapers edging higher and higher in a desperate attempt to reach them. His phone, clutched tightly in his white-knuckled grasp, was shaking from where he held it.

“This is the one thing.”

He closed his eyes, staring at the backs of his eyelids flashing a billion fireworks.

“I want you to know that this isn’t your fault. It will never be.” There were tears falling now, falling to the near-empty pavement below and not even leaving a dot on the concrete to remember. He was a fool to think he could keep them in. His free hand clings to the railings and he leans back. His feet are almost dangling off the edge.

“I always loved you, you know? I was so stupid,” and now he was laughing and soaking in his own saltwater tears, as if he came straight from the ocean. “I was so stupid.”

The neon billboards were just as bright as the backs of his eyelids, and now he couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed. “I know you will probably delete this voicemail. I know how you hated to listen to them. I know, I know, I know,” and he was near hysterical now.

It had been three weeks of drinking straight vodka and not even recoiling, two weeks of experimenting with drugs he’d never heard of just in case he could finally learn what it was like to forget, one week of crumpled up paper balls because he couldn’t write his own suicide note correctly, how pathetic is that?

Every minute since the Words has been the worst minute of his life. They weren’t gone yet, not even close, and he didn’t know what to do to get rid of them, so he did the next best thing.

“I’m in love with somebody else,” had never been words he would expect from his lover’s mouth, never ever ever. Not a single nightmare had brought up this terror, not a single time had he woken up in a cold sweat thinking of the possibility.

And maybe that’s why he was so affected.

“I still love you, and I hate that. I don’t know how to hate you. I don’t think I have the ability to.” He was talking so fast, so brokenly and so close to a sobbing mess that he could taste the salt lingering on his tongue.

“I… The thing is, I don’t know how to be without you. I never have. And that’s not your fault.”

He can’t blame him for anything, no matter how much he wanted to be able to shout what he’d done wrong and shriek to the high heavens that he had been wronged, no matter how much he wanted to scream at anyone who walked by that he wasn’t okay, no matter how damp his pillow was and how parched his mouth always was nowadays.

“This is the best for me. This is the best for you. This is the best for us, for everyone!” He was smiling too now, and he had to remind himself to hang on for a little longer because his grip was getting loose.

“So, sayonara. I don’t know if we’ll meet again in another life. I don’t know if either of us will want to.” Only a little while longer. “Just… Know that I love you. It’s not your fault-“

And the voicemail crackles and muffles the last words. His last words.

No one knows what he said. What his final goodbye truly was. Nobody could hear him, from twenty-five floors above the ground and wind howling like a banshee. And so nobody will know what his last tears sounded like when the hit the ground, whether or not the left a mark, or whether or not he was still smiling or laughing through the tears, or what he even had to say.

“I still love you. I’m sorry.”

His last words echo across the starless skyline, around the neon signs, through the desperate skyscrapers, away from the roaring sirens and boisterous lights, and never reach anyone’s ears except his own.

He was still smiling.

he would break the world down piece by piece for you, darling

Trigger Warnings: Overdose, cheating, alcohol

“He would do anything for you,” his friend says to him one day. The coffee in front of her had already gone cold, but she still stirs it with an idle hand. “He would hang the moon for you if you asked. I have no doubt.” He laughs, and doesn’t understand. She looks at him through dirty lenses, and her eyes speak a thousand words, a whole galaxy of thoughts swirling in brown eyes and gold rimmed glasses.

“He would.”

And he still doesn’t understand.

He doesn’t understand when his boyfriend follows him like a lost puppy, or when he hugs him tighter than anyone else he knows. He doesn’t understand when the lights go out and he feels a hand trying to grab his own under the covers, or when he sees him cry in the corner sometimes.

He could write a song about the silent, slow, rare tears he saw on those nights. It was the kind that travelled down your face and dripped down your neck, and you didn’t care enough to wipe it away. The kind that you didn’t sob out, but rather let go.

It didn’t really matter to him, though. Saltwater was saltwater, and he didn’t care why it came into existence.

“You should go home,” she tells him one night. “Your boyfriend is probably worried, and it’s late.” The club is pounding, pounding, pounding, the bass creeping into his veins and making his breathing and heart stutter just a little bit. Her glasses are reflecting the neon bar sign, and the glare someone’s camera flashing is caught in her purple hair. He couldn’t care less.

“Another Blue Sunset!” He calls out, with a wild grin on his face. There was no way he was leaving before three.

She glances at him from the side, eyebrows scrunched and eyes unsure. “How are you gonna get home?”

“I’ll call my boyfriend,” he waves it off and grabs his full drink. It was fine. He was fine. Everything was fine.

And that’s what he tells himself.

That’s what he says when he starts to leave with strangers and promises that it won’t happen again. (He doesn’t know if he’s trying to convince his boyfriend or himself.) That’s what he says when he starts to bring a toothbrush and a comb when he goes to the club. (It’s so he can fix his hair and brush his teeth after having a few.) That’s what he says when his boyfriend’s crying became more frequent and more and more resigned.

(He doesn’t know when this became their normal.)

His boyfriend doesn’t really look at him anymore. He sort of looks at him with his eyes to the floor. And he starts to forget which stairs creak in their house and he stops leaving his socks everywhere because he sleeps in a new house every other night. He doesn’t have the time.

(He doesn’t know when his house stopped being his home.)

The sky looks sad today. He looks up and it’s bright and sunny and clouds are few and far apart. He squints. The beams of light make dots in his eyelashes and he stares at them until his neck aches and his eyes burn. It’s a good day.

(He doesn’t know what that is anymore.)

He never understood why his boyfriend cried more often. He never understood why he wanted more. He never understood why his heart was broken. He never understood that maybe he was like this because his heart was never there in the first place, like it was just ripped out, like there was a hole in his chest and every second of every minute it was straining to get it back, straining to exist a little longer, like he was as empty and hollow as a skeleton in a secondary school biology classroom, like he would never understand how to understand.

(And when he was lying on the floor, his actual heart slowing and his boyfriend screaming a terrible broken sound that made his voice shudder and shake like it couldn’t contain whatever it was feeling and kneeling on the floor next to a bottle of pills that no longer rattled, he still didn’t understand.)

Some of my story

When I was 8 years old the seeds were planted for my mental issues. By the age of 10 they were truly making themselves known in behavioural difficulties. At 12 I was given counselling for communicational management. When I was 13 that turned into visits to an NHS psychiatrist and psychologist to sort out my depression, anxiety, disordered eating, body image issues and suicidal thoughts.

It took a while but I made it back to feeling good. My anxiety persisted somewhat, but the depression was pretty much gone.

But then, last month, with me being now 17, the anxiety came back in full force worse than it’s ever been before. My doctor even wanted to prescribe me medication. I lost half a stone (7 pounds) in 10 days, lost so much sleep and woke up in cold sweats every night, and I even had to have a blood test to confirm that nothing was wrong.

But the reason for this would have shocked 13 year old me.

It was because I developed a debilitating fear of death and dying. I realised how much I love being alive and how much I haven’t been able to do yet.

I may be afraid, and I may have been miserable for weeks at a time, wondering if I should just quicken up the process (since you can’t be afraid of something that’s already happened, especially not something like that), but it has also inspired me. 

I’ve taken up walking (WALKING), both alone and with friends. I even now have a couple of friends I’m going to go walking with every weekend. And, hopefully, soon I should be able to begin enjoying my ballet lessons again.

I’ve also made huge progress with my body image. This month has made me more comfortable with what I’ve been given. Soon, I’ll hopefully be happy again.

Times may be hard, but if you stay with yourself long enough to see the other side of it, you may just surprise yourself.

Recovery is hard, recovery can be slow, but recovery is worth it. It may not be the only time you have to recover but that’s just going to be another chapter.

And this post may be the most ramble-y mess I’ve ever written, but I feel like some people need to hear that they deserve to tell the world their entire story, not just a couple of chapters.