Every time I want to 3nd it, I think about how ugly I am and how nobody would pity me if they found my d3@d body. So I keep living until I'm pretty enough to d!3.
me remembering my first deep cxt where i cxt so deep i sliced my flesh n it reach the beans + worst part is it's on my knee
it trickled down my leg and bled so fcking much my mom panicked
then she saw my old cuts on my thighs and called me dumbo dumbo for cxtting mys3lf
the cxt [more like sewerslide attempt] was sewed at the hospital
fagh its been 4 months it heals so fucking slow grgrgrrgr
To everyone who thought that making me "practise" by forcing me to go in front of people (presentations) in primary school would make me "get used to it", I want you to know that it has gotten so bad to the point where I attempted suicide over a presentation and am currently failing a subject due to refusing to do a presentation.
I hope youre happy for contributing to ruin my life, fuck all of you.
or read below the cut BUT MIND THE TAGS AND TRIGGERS
trigger warning: suicide attempt
There’s a small tattoo on the inside of Ilya’s left ankle, that Shane hasn’t seen before. It’s done in white ink, which makes it almost invisible against Ilya’s equally pale skin; which makes it no surprise that it has gone unnoticed all this time.
It’s simple. Four numbers— 4530– that hold no significance Shane can think of.
It’s not a birthday. It’s not an anniversary. If it’s a code, Shane’s not sure what it’s for… definitely nothing that they own. Unless Ilya has something, which requires a code, that he’s kept secret from Shane… and was important enough to have said secret code tattooed on the inside of his left ankle.
But Shane doubts that.
Across the room, Svetlana laughs. It’s hollow and worn— neither of them have much energy after such a stressful 24 hours. “Do you always look this intense when you are thinking, Hollander?”
“I don’t know,” he replies. “Maybe.”
She offers him an equally hollow and worn smile. “And what is it you are so intensely thinking about?”
Shane opens his mouth, but then closes it back. He absentmindedly fidgets with Ilya’s necklace. With the crucifix… and the ring. Now is not the time…
“Nothing,” Shane lies, and Svetlana (graciously) doesn’t call him out on it.
**
Shane sits in the passenger seat of his own car, and watches his dad flap a trash bag open. He takes it into Ilya’s house and returns sometime later after scouring every corner and crevice for pill bottles. Then he deposits the bag into the trash can and rolls the trashcan to the curb.
Why he came along for this, he’s not sure…
Being back at Ilya’s house makes him feel sick to his stomach. The memory of parking in almost the same spot, walking up the steps to the front door. Using his Snoopy and Woodstock key Ilya had made for him. Calling out into the dark, quiet house… and getting no response.
The growing sense of dread the closer he got to the bathroom.
Cradling Ilya’s body— his cold and limp… but not quite lifeless body— to his chest as he tried to make sense of what was going on. To himself, as well as the dispatcher on the phone.
It was there, in the bright fluorescent light of the bathroom, Shane saw it. The tattoo.
He pushes the images of Ilya away and thinks instead about 4530. He pulls out his phone and googles the number. Falls down a rabbit hole of penalty codes, and publication numbers.
All of which Shane is certain have nothing to do with the small tattoo on the inside of Ilya’s ankle.
**
“There is that look again,” Svetlana says, and her voice is more teasing this time; less hollow, still worn… maybe more so, now. “Care to finally share what it is for?”
Shane swallows. In his hands are discharge papers. The last week has been a living hell. For himself, and he’s sure it’s been for Svetlana, too. He can only imagine what it’s been for Ilya. They are waiting for him to speak with the psychiatrist one final time. Then Shane can take him home.
Now is probably still not the time… but he asks anyway. “The tattoo on his ankle,” Shane says; Svetlana stills. “Why 4530? What does it mean?”
She sighs, and looks at Shane. “It is for his mother. The number of days he had with her before she—” her voice trails off. Shane (graciously) doesn’t press, happy to at least know what the numbers mean… Saddened by how small the number seems now that he’s been given context.
The double doors finally open, and Ilya walks out.
He walks right into Shane’s arms, apologies flowing from his lips faster than Shane can negate them. He holds him tight until Ilya calms, then lets Svetlana have a turn— even if it kills him a little to release him.
“Let’s get you home,” Shane says, once Svetlana lets Ilya go. He slides his arm around Ilya’s back, and leads him out to the car.
**
There’s a small tattoo on the inside of Ilya’s left ankle, that Shane hadn’t seen before… He saw it for the first time the evening that Ilya tried to take his own life.
He doesn’t share this with Ilya until a month later. When the media has died down, the rumors quiet.
The season is far from over, but they are at the cottage. They needed to get away from the world… so they did.
Shane holds Ilya in his arms a little tighter these days, and this day is no exception. They are laying in the hammock out by the lake, and Shane isn’t entirely sure that Ilya hasn’t fallen asleep. He twists his body so he can press a kiss to Ilya’s forehead and sees his eyes open, staring blankly out at the water.
“There’s something I want to show you…” Shane says, and Ilya turns his attention— now clearly piqued— to Shane.
“What is it?”
Shane wiggles his body free of Ilya’s, and sits up— Ilya does the same.
He doesn’t know how he managed to hide it for this long, but he has. So he brings his left leg up to rest on his right knee, Ilya stares at Shane’s ankle for a moment, and then his eyes go wide.
There’s a small tattoo on the inside of Shane’s left ankle… that Ilya hadn’t seen before.
Done in white ink, and just barely healed.
It’s simple. Just four numbers— 4530– followed by a semicolon.
Synopsis: Juhoon and Lia struggle to place a title on what they are (although they do everything a couple does and most definitely are in love with each other). Juhoon's roommates and friends help him ask her to date him, while Juhoon takes this information- he immediately backs out, causing a bigger shift in their relationship than there was. He ultimately "breaks up" with her over text, then commits a almost irreversible mistake. Will they end up together? Will Juhoon stop wandering and will Lia ever be able to stop wondering?
warning: jealously, avoidance, friendly bulling, cursing, rare use of punctuation/casual speaking, spelling errors? (will add more if I can remember)
pairing: Juhoon x fem oc!
tropes: wondering x wandering, avoidant x eager - This is based in AU! They are in high school (the story doesn't focus on that too much though), and the guys all live together. (You can check my pinned post for more info on characters before or after reading!)
content: nothing smut, fluff, crack, cursing, kms jokes, touchy, mental issues, s3lf h4rm, attempt (I can't think of anything else)
author's note: try not to cry. Plzz feel free to give me advice!! Enjoyyy!😁
•▪︎•▪︎•
Prepare for angst to the max... I warned you.
•▪︎•▪︎•
James waits 5 minutes before Seonghyeon came through the front door.
"Where were you anyway?"James asks him.
"Don't ask obvious questions, hyung-" He replied with a roll of his eyes, then added on.
"Let's get this door open."
James nods and they begin taking the door down carefully. They were sure he was just asleep or wanting alone time, but it had been too long. He would usually just tell them that anyways.
They get it down after 10 minutes just to see a heart dropping sight.
"Juhoon hyung!" Seonghyeon almost screams out as he moves off of his knees from being on the floor, and runs into his hyungs room; up to his bed.
Juhoon was laying there, seemingly lifeless as blood dripped from his arms. A pill bottle lied beside his unmoving body. You could hear faint breaths coming from his mouth.
James took no time to jolt after Seonghyeon once he saw Juhoon.
"Guys! Call 119!" He shouted out to the others as he gently moved Seonghyeon out of the way and carefully helped Juhoon sit up.
Seonghyeon was now crying as he stood behind James. He was shaking, freaking out as he looked down at his now bloody hands. He couldn't be there any longer, he then ran out of the room and only made it halfway down the hall before falling to the floor- hands shaking.
Martin runs into Juhoon's room as Seonghyeon zoomed pass him, wondering what was going on. As he entered the room, he was stopped in his tracks at the sight of his best friend being pulled to sit up, bleeding out. Martin's mouth hung open, unable to fully realize what was happening. Still in shock; he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called 119, telling them what he was seeing and the address.
Keonho was on his way to Juhoon's room after hear all the yelling, right after Martin. Instead on going straight to Juhoon's room, he stopped as he saw Seonghyeon drop to the ground. He immediately dropped to the floor beside him, grabbing him by his shoulders.
"Seonghyeon? What happened...?" His voice was already shaky. He felt it was something horrible but just wanted to know for sure.
Seonghyeon couldn't say a word as his eyes met Keonho's.
Keonho saw this, then glanced down at Seonghyeon's pants, now seeing the blood on them and it stained on Seonghyeon's hands. He let go of Seonghyeon, standing up and baking away.
"No... No! This isn't funny Hyeon." Seonghyeon looked up at him with tears in his eyes as he tried to stand up. He couldn't find the strength after seeing that.
"Juhoon?!" Keonho called out. After no reply he ran off to Juhoon's room where James and Martin was.
He pushed pass Martin and almost shoved James away from Juhoon.
"Juhoon! What the hell?! Why?!" Keonho's words come out in a flurry as he grabbed his hyungs face with both hands.
"Juhoon... Why aren't you awake? Wake up!" Keonho was barely able to yell those words out. His breathing was uneven, he felt lightheaded.
James had been fighting his tears, just trying to make Juhoon wake up. He used his shirt sleeve to wipe a tear that almost feel.
"Keonho... Please move. I uhm, I need to help him. Can you get me towels?" James was fighting to stay as strong as he could; voice shaky.
Keonho then replied quickly. "Uhm- Okay!"
Keonho then ran into Juhoon's bathroom to grab towels as James gently but firmly slapped Juhoon's face.
He came back quickly with the towels for James.
James then wrapped Juhoon's arms tightly with the towels. It only helped so much. It was seeping through.
James then yelled out at Martin, "Where is help?!" His voice cracked.
Martin stuttered a reply, crying, "10 minutes away... What should I do?"
"I don't... I don't know."James was truly lost. He just kept applying pressure to the wounds on Juhoon's arms.
Juhoon was still breathing faintly.
》》》》》
Meanwhile, Seonghyeon had finally stood up. He was hunched over against Juhoon's doorframe crying.
"James...?" He spat out shakily. "Is he okay?"
James cleared his throat, wiping his eyes again. "He will be fine. He just needs a little help... I uhm- There's a lot of-"
James got choked up on his tears that threatened to fall.
"Blood. It won't stop..." James spoke to everyone but it sounded like he was speaking to himself as he stared down at Juhoon.
"They can't come any faster?" Keonho spoke up.
"I don't know?! I already asked!" Martin yelled out at Keonho.
Keonho yells back, "Well ask again!"
"Leave me alone!" Martin quickly replies, crying harder now.
"Guys stop!" James finally breaks down, crying.
"Why are you arguing while I am trying to keep him alive?! This isn't about you! I don't know if he'll wake up, and you don't either! I don't know what to do!"
They both go silent, only sounds of sniffling breaking through that silence.
The 10 minutes they had to wait, turned into 15. They were getting sick of waiting.
"Martin... You just got your license, right?" James asked as he forced himself to stop crying.
"Yes..." Martin replied.
"Go get my car keys and start the car. I'll sit in the back to be with Juhoon."
Martin nodded and quickly made his way to the living room to grab the keys. He slid his shoes on and rushed out the door.
James then let go of Juhoon, just to grab a blanket for him. He wrapped it around his cold frame, before lifting him up into his arms.
"Go get in the car..." James let out shakily as he moved pass Keonho and Seonghyeon with Juhoon in his arms.
•▪︎•
Keonho walked over to Seonghyeon, bending down to where he sat.
"Let's go..."
Keonho helped Seonghyeon up and they both made their way out of the door, and to James' car.
Soft, orange sheets smother the frail box turtle, anchoring him to his comfortable coffin. His resting place was meant to be 6 feet below, but his untimely end was inconsiderately interrupted by a certain red snapper. God who is he kidding, he loves his brothers, he's so guilty ridden at the emotional turmoil he is putting his brothers through, yet, he can't seem to muster up enough energy to do anything about that guilt. What horrific that this is the same turtle who used to give his brothers seminars on their mental health.
But back to his current situation, the youngest brother had not left the confines of his bedroom in almost 2 days, and he chooses to not think about the length of time that he's been rotting away in his orange bed.
The incident that cause this to occur is hazy and patchy but he does remember the months leading up to it, following the invasion, Mikey chose to feign ignorance in order to care for Donnie's shell, Raph's eye and Leo's - well - Leo's everything. This amalgamation of compartmentalisation cause the boy to seek some sort of release, a small speck of light in this dark desolate ocean, he happened to scroll onto vent tiktoks, and being the impressionable young turtle he is, adopted the ways of cutting himself with a sharpener blade as his silent coping mechanism.
Yet, as all things tend to go, he went too far and he remembers he attempted to take his own life, tried to stop his pulse with something but it's too hazy to tell what, yet his biggest brother had sensed a problematic dilemma using his protective older brother senses and had discovered him on the bathroom floor. A traumatic thing currently dubbed 'the sitch'. Leo named it, obviously.
Laying in the bed reminiscing on his mistakes are fun and all but not stimulating enough for the usually hyperactive turtle, rolling over, he reaches for his headphones, phone and book. As of grabbing the three objects he puts on a playlist - the first song being 'diet coke' by Leanna Firestone - he opens his book, surprisingly his Raphael hasn't figured out the contents of the book - diary of an oxygen thief- Michaelangelo is convinced that if he had been made aware of it's themes he would have prohibited it from being in the lair, let alone his suicidal baby brothers clutches.
After a few hours of reading said big brother came cautiously wondering into his train cart, no longer being given the luxury of privacy.
"Mikey?" The snapper softly calls to the lump in the sheets.
"Yeah Raphy?" Michelangelo croaks out, painfully aware of how little use his voice has been getting lately, the following conversation was a regular one, reminding Mikey to go to the bathroom, reminding Mikey to talk to people, reminding Mikey to be normal, reminding Mikey to be Mikey.
If Mikey could go back in time, he wouldn't know what exactly to do; but what he does know, is that he would not let this torment occur again.
