Update

update 🖤

I’m so sorry for not posting part 2 of moonlight, but I got sick and then I didn’t use my laptop for this whole week because my father took it away, so I think I’m just going to type it on my phone. I’ll try to get it up by the end of this week. thank you for bearing with me 🥰

When will you be making part 2 for moonlight KOH Tom :,) Cuz I'm all fucked up now thank you very much

lmao 🖤 I’ll try to work on it tonight bc I’m in my best writing headspace at like 12 am to 3 or 4 am. thank you for reading my work tho 🥺🥰

how’s your day going? i opened up tumblr to see that i has over 100 notifications 🖤 thank you guys so much for the support 🥰

insecure

warnings: angst, super slight fluff, slight mention of suicidal thoughts, mentions of depression, cursing, reader gets slightly injured

a/n: i know i’ve written a lot of depressing shit, so i apologize and i’ll try to make happier imagines that are fluffy. just feeling down a lot now and i feel like the dent in a perfect new car and everybody is judging me. it’s whatever. enjoy!

masterlist

I stared into the mirror, judging my reflection. You’re fat and ugly. No one will ever like you. You don’t fit in. 

It’s true, I don’t fit in. I always feel out of place with my supposed friends, and even in my family. I couldn’t believe that I was dating Tom Holland, Spider-Man. He chose me over Zendaya and all the other beautiful women, but why? You’re just a charity case. He doesn’t really care for you. He’s using you.

I quickly shifted my eyes away from the reflecting glass, sniffing away the tears, wiping any stowaway ones. Tom would be coming home at any moment, and I can’t show any signs of weakness.

Not many moments later, I heard the familiar click of the door.

“Y/N, darling? I’m home,” he placed his keys on the golden-coloured wall rack. I rushed down the stairs, keeping my composure, “Tommy!” I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, “How was work today? Did you have a good time?”

“Work was great and tiring. Of course, I had a good time, love, but I missed you,” Tom frowned. I giggled at his adorable gesture, kissing him once again.

“Well, I’ll go make you some tea, and you can go wash up and rest. Love you,” our noses touched.

“Mhm,” he sighed in satisfaction. “Love ya too, darling.”

I unwrap my arms from his neck and walk to the kitchen to make his tea, as promised.

I set the tea kettle onto the stove, setting the heat to a medium. The steam slowly started to flow out of the spout, and the whistling started to increase. I turned down the heat, making sure the tea wouldn’t splash out.

After waiting for another 5 minutes, I grabbed the kettle off the stove, forgetting to turn off the fire, causing me to burn myself.

“Ah, shit,” I let go of the kettle and run over to the sink, running my hand under cold water. You finally got what you deserved, you bitch.

As I stood at the sink, still keeping my hand cool, I heard footsteps coming from the staircase. I quickly pulled my hand out of the water, hissing in pain. I hid my hand behind my back, turning off the fire with my good hand. My right, and burnt, hand was throbbing. The pain was spreading through my arm.

“Is the tea ready?” Tom asked excitedly. I smiled and gave him a fake giggle, “Yeah, it’s just cooling. Go sit down, I get you a cup.” He walked out of the kitchen, his bareback muscles clenching.

“Fuck!” I whispered, silently slamming my left hand on the counter. I walked to the fridge, grabbing an ice pack to put on my red, swollen hand.

“Love? You doing alright in there?” Tom asked from the couch. I hurriedly grabbed a cup and attempted to pour the tea into it, but failed miserably, “Ah, dammit!” The hot tea spilt all over my legs and feet, burning them too.

Tom rushed into the room to see me crying and covered in hot tea, “Oh my god, baby, are you okay? Please stay calm,” I sobbed in pain and idiocy. You’re a fucking idiot. Failure as well. You should just die. You deserve to kill yourself most painfully ever. Everybody would be happier without you.

“Darling? I’m going to call the ambulance, stay still,” I heard him dial and number on his phone, hearing the loud ringing. I felt numb from the pain. Maybe everyone would be happier without me. Maybe I wasn’t important. Maybe I do deserve to die. Maybe I shou-

“Y/N, love, the ambulance is on their way. Stay with me,” Tom held me closer, pushing me against his hard muscles, “I feel tired,” my eyes fluttering from opened to closed.

“Darling, just try and stay awake, please,” Tom spoke, attempting to give me energy. “Look at the pretty forest! Sparkles, Tommy, there’s sparkles!” Then, darkness.

stay with me, please

warnings: SELF-HARM, ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, mention of death, depression, language

a/n: please do NOT read this if you are sensitive on the topics in listed above. I do not support the topics. if you feel alone, call the suicide prevention hotline: 1-800-273-8255. please remember that you are loved, and when times get tough, it’s just a rough patch in your life, but it’ll be over with soon. look on the bright side of things. treat yourself with love and care. i love you all ♡

*i personally have never had an experience on this topic, but a very close friend of mine has, she took therapy and is better than ever now. feel free to talk to me by clicking ‘ask me anything.’ i myself have suffered from depression. i tried to cut myself and was only able to cut my fingertip. i have a habit of not eating a lot of food and trying to stay quiet, not to attract attention to myself. nobody knows about it, not even my family or close friends. i know it’ll get better. i will make a post just on this because i’ve typed too much of this on my lil’ fic here, which have more parts to come, so enjoy!*

masterlist

pt.1 | pt. 2

Tears fell from your eyes as you looked at your wrist. The razor blade was lodged into your arm, causing the red, warm, liquid rapidly spill out. You kept going until it was 8 cuts.

The bathroom floor had patches of blood covering it, but most of the blood made it into the sink. You used a hand cloth to wipe up all the red stains and washed the cloth in the sink. You made sure there weren’t any red spots left in the sink, and continued on to prepare a bath.

You slowly sank into the warm water, the blood from your arms colouring the water red. As you sat there, the tears flowing down your cheeks slowly started to come to a halt.

Then, you heard the familiar sound of your front door opening, “Darling? Are you home?”

In a rush, you stood up and out of the bathtub, and drained it. You washed it over twice to make sure there was no more opaque, red, liquid floating in the tub.

He must’ve heard the water run because the next thing you knew, he was opening the bathroom door.

Luckily, you already had slipped on his hoodie, covering your somewhat bloody scars.

“H-Hey, Tommy. You’re back early.” You stuttered, still uneasy from earlier.

“Y/N, darling, I’ve missed you! I came back to surprise you!” Tom shone, the smile on his face widens.

“What’re you doing in the bathroom?” He questioned, looking confused.

“I was just, um, taking a bath.” You excused.

“In the middle of the day?” Tom connected eyes with you, trying to break through your protective shield. You noticed his motives, and quickly look away.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with taking a nice, warm, bath in the middle of the day?” You falsely giggled.

“But, you said that taking baths in the afternoon was dumb?” Tom tried to remember.

You bite the inside of your mouth, silently cursing yourself out because you did tell him that before.

“Just was tired, let it go?” You sighed. He could feel the tension, so he let it go.

For the following weeks, you continued to cut, while Tom started to notice the loss of energy you’d have when he came back. He also started to notice the small things, like you had had a hard time falling asleep, or you would always wear his hoodies or your long-sleeved clothing items.

One day, Tom woke up to the great smell of eggs and toast coming from the first floor.

“Love?” He walked down the stairs. To his surprise, he saw you making his favourite breakfast meal. “What’re you doing?” A smile flashed across his fatigued face.

“What d’you think, you doofus?” Your giggle was fake. If only he knew that this was his last breakfast with you.

You placed the toast and eggs onto the white plate, handing it to him. Then, you poured him a cup of coffee to enjoy with his “extravagant” breakfast. You ate the leftover eggs and drank some coffee.

“I gotta go, love, but I’ll be back later,” He kissed your forehead. You took in his affection while you could.

“Tom,” You called out before he could leave the flat, “I love you,” You quickly, or tried to, walk over to him and give him the most passionate kiss you could.

“I love you, too, darling,” He chuckled.

“Bye,” You smiled and waved.

“Bye, love,” He rolled his beautiful, brown eyes.

Tom found your actions weird since you hadn’t been this affectionate ever, especially for the past few weeks, but he ignored his suspicions, and happily drove to work.

Once he was out of your sight, you ran, the fastest you’ve ever been, up the stairs, and into the bathroom. You pulled out the large blade and started cutting large, deep, cuts into yourself. Every place you could possibly cut, you cut. You were so numb from the pain, you didn’t feel the impact when you fell to the cold, tiled, floor.

“Y/N? Darling? Where are you? I forgot my phone here. Could you grab it from the room?” Tom’s voice rang through your ears.

No! He can’t be back. No! Go away, Tom! Please.

“Babe? Where are you?” You could hear his heavy footsteps rushing up the staircase.

Please don’t come in here, please don’t come in here, please don’t come in here.

Tom pushed the door open, practically running to my side.

“Y/N? Love? Are you there? Please respond!” He shouted, tears rapidly falling from his eyes.

I caused him pain.

“Stay with me! I love you, Y/N.” His voice cracked.

“Hello? Yes, I need an ambulance! M-My girlfriend. She’s dying. She cut herself and the blood won’t stop coming out. She’s becoming pale! Please hurry!” He sobs into the phone.

“Stay with me, please. I love you,” He kissed your forehead. Then, darkness.

The faint sounds of the ambulance sirens vibrated through your head. Then, you heard Tom’s voice.

“Don’t go, baby, please don’t,” His voice was quivering.

“I love you, so many people love you. Please stay.” Tom’s hand tightens around yours.

Lies. Nobody loves me. No one will. No one has. I’m alone.

do yall like fluffy shit or ??? angst seems to be the only thing I write so I want to expand my kind of “genre...” requests are open