#tw: suicide

[nowimjustastranger]

Did Stcmo!Ford regrets confronting his Stan at home, since Filbrick heard the hole thing and decided to kick Stan out? Since in canon it was Ford's accusation of Stan deliberately sabotaging him that gave Filbrick the excuse he needed to kick Stan out.

Yes.

Ford beats himself up for picking a fight with Stan in their living room, for throwing such a bold accusation at his brother without stopping to think about what he was saying. If he had just taken a few moments to cool off instead of going straight home, he would have used his allegedly genius brain and considered scenarios other than sabotage. Ford might've been distancing himself from his brother once they hit highschool, but he still knew Stan.

And, while Stan had been incredibly nonchalant about accidentally breaking his project and ruining his chances of attending his dream school, that didn't mean that he deserved to be dragged out of his house and thrown to the sidewalk with a pre-packed duffle bag. And it was entirely Ford's choice to turn away from his brother without even bothering to get his side of the story, without considering how he felt about being left behind while Ford chased his bullshit destiny. They had both been selfish in different ways, but they were children on the cusp of becoming adults in a house that had given them no room to grow.

Regardless, Ford had clung to that useless anger and betrayal, had held it close to his aching heart so he wouldn't feel the real pain of losing his brother that lurked beneath it. He wanted to be right about Stan's intentions just as much as he wanted to be wrong. Because if he was wrong then he turned his back on his brother for an accident, had abandoned his little brother to the streets. Ultimately, Ford decided that he would reach out to Stan and ask if they could talk after graduating from Backupsmore.

It didn't matter in the end though.

He discovered a message from his dying brother on his answering machine after he and Fiddleford got back to their dorm, the two having spent a few hours studying at the library for separate upcoming exams. And it would be just his fucking luck that the one time he didn't pick up the phone for his mystery caller, Stan decided to talk. His brother left what amounted to a suicide note considering he was bleeding heavily from his slit wrists, barely managing to hang up the phone when he began to fade because he didn't want Ford to hear him die.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

no more runnin'

demon!joel miller x f!reader

words: 468

summary: joel comes to collect what you owe him.

warnings: dead dove do not read, major character death (reader), implied suicide, christian concepts of life and death, description of a self-inflicted wound, I wrote this because I needed a good cry and I was processing some feelings that I needed to feel even though they were painful.

PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU READ THE WARNINGS.

viewer discretion is advised. you are responsible for the media you consume.

If you or someone you know is in crisis Call or text the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988 (para ayuda en español, llame al 988). The Lifeline provides 24-hour, confidential support to anyone in suicidal crisis or emotional distress.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

He found you there. He had a habit of being places he shouldn’t, seeing things he wasn’t supposed to see. Of finding people who didn’t want to be found. 

That was why he was there, after all. He had come calling for what he was owed. And you were finally ready to pay up. 

“No more runnin’, huh?” Joel asked, crouching down. He reached out, brushing your cheek with the back of his knuckles. 

“No more runnin’,” you rasp. 

“Coulda just told me,” he said, picking up your limp hand and inspecting the weeping wound below it. “I never said it hadta be painful. Coulda gone in your sleep.”

You manage a half shrug. “Maybe I wanted to say goodbye.”

He sighs, looking down at the damp concrete. “I would have given ya that, too,” he says. 

You close your eyes, not wanting him to see the tears, but they slip free anyway. He brushes them away with a swipe of his thumb. 

“Ah, shit,” he mutters. “It’s alright. I got ya. You���re not alone.”

He sits down beside you against the brick wall and pulls you into his arms. “This is why I don’t give extra time,” he murmurs into your hair. “It’s always harder, sweetheart.”

“My own damn fault,” you say, a shaky laugh through tears. “Goin’ and fallin’ for the fuckin’ demon I sold my soul to.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly discourage ya, did I? But you know I can’t… I don’t…”

“I know,” you whisper. “No heart. Part of the whole arrangement. I don’t believe it for a second.”

“You’re a foolish girl,” he says, but there’s no heat behind it. “I was gonna give you a pass. Gonna risk my fuckin’ neck to send you off to someplace better. But you’ve gone and condemned yourself, darlin.’ Why would you do this?”

“You’ll be there,” you admit. 

“Ah, darlin’,” he said, voice strained. “You ain’t gonna remember me. I’m sorry.”

“Will you remember me?” You ask, voice cracking. Your breathing is shallow, unsteady. 

He knows it’s almost time. He tilts your chin up, pressing his lips to yours. It’s slow and tender, nothing like the rushed and frantic clash of flesh and teeth that you’re used to.

“I could never forget you,” he assures. It’s true, but you can’t be sure. Like he’d say anything else right now, give you anything other than what you need to hear in this moment. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, cradling your head to his chest. “You can close your eyes. I’ll stay with ya.”

“Okay,” you whisper. Your lids are heavy, burdened by tear-laden lashes and too many years, too many losses. You relax against him, feeling the press of his lips on the top of your head once, twice, thrice, until you feel no more. 

[elitehanitje]

If your first instinct when watching/reading/seeing something about bullying, body shaming, and suicide is to laugh and boast, then there's nothing I can do or say will change your deranged mindset. The best I can do is to block and hope others won't have the same mindset. I got this type of reply on Twitter most of the time but on Tumblr? It looks like a Twitter rejection or something:

```

```

When I wrote that post based on the news article, I mostly focused on the danger of bullying. Hana Kimura is a well-known wrestler who killed herself after she was bullied by her so-called fans and also body-shamed. I also wrote about other wrestlers, and not just from AEW but from other companies.

I thought that by doing so, people would know how a bit obtuse what a certain wrestler said about body shaming. It's one thing to say that he doesn't care that people shaming him, it's another thing that he said that he supports it and how it affects others.

If your first instinct is to laugh and say that AEW is losing to WWE and we made up stuff to "win", then maybe you are not a fan of wrestling or decency in general. You're the one who glazed over the topic and made it into something else. If you think that when suicide matter is not important enough compared to your favorite company and wrestler, then please, on everything holy, refrain yourself commenting on other people's blogs/posts. I don't care what you write on your own blog, because chances are I won't see it. After all, you're blocked.

So please, block me if you think that bullying is acceptable and suicide is okay - because I always feel that Tumblr at least has some leftover safe space for everyone who has a heart. Even in a wrestling world, be a decent fan and human.

[awfullybigwardrobe44]

Came on here to add another thought. I know someone—distantly, he was in a support group I attended for a few sessions—who committed suicide. I do not know the details but I’m 90% sure it was because of his OCD.

OCD is not cute and quirky. It is not a personality trait. It takes lives.

It is fricking 2023, it’s really time for us to stop using OCD as an adjective or making the acronyms stand for cutesy little things like “obsessive cat disorder”

This disorder turns lives into living hell but sure, let’s use it to make jokes

[fuck-customers]

[mournfulroses]

Marina Tsvetaeva, addressing her son, Mur, in her suicide note, featured in Earthly Signs Moscow Diaries

[cordeliawhohung]

Real Talk.

Hi. I wish I had good news, but I don't. This is going to get very venty and probably triggering, so I apologize in advance, but I don't want to just vanish.

I've made the decision to private pretty much everything on my account here on tumblr, and I am heavily fighting the urge to delete everything off of my AO3. I realize that I'm sort of self destructing, in a way, and I'm trying very hard not to just toss everything into the void lest I come to regret it later, but here we are.

Things in my IRL have not been great, and they haven't been good for a long while. I started up this blog a little over a year ago at the crux of my depression, fighting off extreme suicidal ideation and untreated PTSD. On top of that, I had to support my mother through marrying her abuser and watching her slowly lose herself while I helped assisted in taking care of my kid brother, and helped my other brothers through their battles with addiction. Like everyone else in the world, I've had a lot on my plate. So much so to the point that my anxiety and stress is making me sick.

For the first time in a very long time, I had picked up writing again and found it to be a wonderful outlet to really get my feelings out in a safe way. It was so freeing being able to be in control of everything, and explore the very real and scary emotions that people have otherwise wanted me to snuff out. I wish I could snuff it out. I have had no choice but to feel everything I wish I could run away from, but at least this way I was the one dictating everything. Even through the pain and the last few months of pure disassociation, this was mine.

Now, I hate it. I hate it all. I can hardly stand looking at these stories or anything I write.

I am not going to share names; and please do not go looking for this person or harass them as I'd quite frankly rather kill myself than have another glimimp situation and would probably just actually delete all my works; but something that really kicked this up was someone plagiarizing one of my works. While not exactly copy and pasted, I could compare pretty much every line they wrote to my own work. I do not mind people taking inspiration from my works, but the fact someone took it upon themselves to essentially create a "fix-it-fic" of my work was honestly the last straw for me, I think. And to just regurgitate half of what I had written like some high schooler summarizing a story?

"Kore, did you try talking to them?" The idea of confrontation actually makes me want to throw up and considering the actual issues I have going on in my real life, I don't see how it's worth getting up in arms over fanfiction. Believe it or not, I'm not really good with words, and I end up making a fool of myself and coming off way different than I intend to half the time (blame the autism I guess). And I know for a fact that it won't change the fact that I still hate it. My works. Everything I write. I want it gone. I want to purge it.

I hate The Prowl and TMTIV. I can't see myself writing for them anymore. I've tried. I had to force out the last chapter of The Prowl only to just not even be able to edit it. (Yeah when that anon sent me that ask about The Prowl? "When are you updating it next?" I literally had the rough draft finished when they sent that and was trying to edit it, and now I don't even want to look at it anymore).

And this sucks because I really do enjoy sharing my stories with you guys, but it's just not fun anymore. And if it's not fun, then why do I keep doing it? And I feel bad, especially to my patreon supporters because I definitely didn't deserve the support when I started that up, and I certainly don't deserve it anymore, but I really need to step away. For a good, long while.

I don't like dealing in certainties, which is why I'm privating everything on here rather than deleting my blog, because maybe one day I'll come back and continue. But right now it's really not healthy for me. This place has grown to become so toxic. I think I'll start focusing on original works instead. Ones I may or may not post to Patreon just... depending, I guess. Writing is still so lovely and I don't want to lose it, but I certainly can't keep it here for now.

I want to apologize to my followers, and my mutals. I cherish every kind message you all have sent to me. I appreciate how considerate you all are, and I'm sorry I don't have the energy to respond half the time. I've deleted tumblr off of my phone, so to the mutuals who want to keep in contact with me, feel free to ask for my discord or something. I'll try to get on to check tumblr every now and then for that.

In the end, I really hope this is just me having some stupid mental breakdown, and that this isn't a forever goodbye, but we'll see.

I'll hopefully be back someday (: if not, I'm sorry and I still love you.

[rezwrites]

hi! could u do a rio x f!reader enemies to lovers? maybe a detective au? and maybe smut if ur comfortable with it

Of course!

Warnings: 18+MDNI TW: very minor mention of murder/suicide cases, cursing, office sex, risky sex, mutual fingering

Eyes flickering between the case file and your computer you typed fervently shrill rings of the office phones outside your door and the clacking of your keyboard filled the silence of your mind as you worked away. This case was pretty simple this time around, thankfully.

“Knock knock,” her silvery voice invaded your senses. Immediate irritation painted your face as you looked up to see Rio leaning against your doorframe, a small box in her hands.

You’ve dealt with years of her atrocious arrogance. You wanted to knock her down a few pegs whenever she oversaw your cases and barked orders at you, as if you didn’t know how to do your own job. Most interactions the two of you always ended in an argument. It has simmered down recently, but she still gets under your skin.

“Oh no.“ you stood up, rounding your desk, “This case isn’t anywhere near FBI jurisdiction what are you doing here?”

“Your chief asked me personally to work this case with you. Something about you do better when I’m around.” Rio’s lips ticked up.

Clenching your jaw you narrowed your eyes at her, “The case is over. I just finished the crime scene report and sent it over to the lawyer for the trial.”

“I’m only kidding.” She pushed herself off of the doorframe, “I just came by to see you and to give you these.” She held out the box of cookies, subconsciously fiddling with the side of the ribbon wrapped around the box.

This was the fourth time this month she came by with food. You turned her away every time, despite how good the desserts looked. You had to acknowledge her dedication, the tiredness in her features showing you that she did indeed put effort into these treats. Guilt started to gnaw at you now that you think about it but you steeled yourself before she saw you waver.

You glanced down at the cookies then at her, “definitely poisoned.” Taking the box and tossing it on your desk, you crossed your arms turning back to Rio, leaning back on your desk.

“They aren’t. I stayed up late to make them.” She frowned, picking up the box shoving it into your arms, “Just eat one.”

“Why do you want me to eat your food so insistently?” You gripped the side of the box slightly denting it.

“Because I want to know what you like.” Rio stared intensely into your eyes, it was a little unnerving. It was like her sepia orbs were searching for something. You could see the dark circles under her eyes from the lack of sleep.

Reigning yourself in, you straightened yourself out , “I like… telling you to get the fuck out my office.”

There’s small twinge of pain in your chest when she sighs defeatedly, shoulders slumped as she walked out your office without so much as a witty comeback. Some part of you hoped she’d come back, guilt building the longer she didn’t. The rest of the day passed unusually quiet, the cookies left on the edge of your desk taunting you.

Stepping into your home quite late you were greeted by, Jupiter, weaving himself through your legs, meowing shrilly as he leads you to his bowl to fill. Putting his food up after filling his bowl, exhaustion hit you like a truck. Deciding to skip dinner you grabbed the box of cookies you had haphazardly tossed on the kitchen table, making your way to your bedroom.

The shower made your body heavy with tiredness, finally ready to stop fighting it you slipped into bed. Jupiter jumped up snuggling his small, orange body into your side. Flipping open the box lid, you hesitate picking up a cookie. Eventually, you took a bite savoring the way it was soft and chewy as it melted in your mouth.

After a few cookies your fingers slid over a slip of paper at the bottom of the box. Picking up and flipping over the bright pink note, the words in large black ink.

Delicious, right? ;)

Your face heated up, crumping the note in your fist tossing it back in the box. Shoving the box to the edge of the bed, you turned everything off and went to sleep.

Looking at the evidence board you're wracking your brain. It seems to be a simple murder-suicide but something in your gut says otherwise and the evidence to support your hunch isn’t there.

“Ugh, great. Feds are here. Again.” Your coworker grunted out. It seems you weren’t the only one aggravated when FBI got involved. Looking over your shoulder you see your chief escorting Rio into the meeting room. Chief explaining that the case now falls to the FBI due to the victims being part of an international theft ring.

That same coworker started going on a rant, shocking everyone including Rio. Fussing about getting cases taken away. He even had the nerve to insinuate that Rio had connections to higher-ups since she was always being the one to take cases.

For all your issues with Rio you could never deny that she knows what she’s doing and that she handles herself well on the field. You have to admit that you have learned a few skills from her throughout the years. All her decorations and medals are deserved. You’d be damned if someone that doesn’t know her at all slander her hard work.

You sat there seething until you couldn���t take it anymore. Slamming your palms on the table, everyone turning their heads to you as you stared this worm of a man down, “Enough! I completely understand the frustrations but we don’t have the resources nor manpower like they do. They are way more equipped to deal with criminals like these than we are. In the end we should be thankful the FBI is here. The only reason she gets these cases is because she’s great at doing her job. If you think your tough shit then go out there and try to do it yourself rather than sitting on your ass and complaining!”

The chiefs booming voice silences the whole room before anyone else could start mouthing off. He commanded everyone to go blow off steam, specifically instructing you to hand Rio all the files, evidence and reports.

Relief washed over you once you entered your quiet office, the soft click of the door closing behind Rio. Taking a deep sigh, you began to calm down compiling everything case-related into a Manila folder.

“You just defended me?” Rio stood there stunned, breaking the silence.

“I’m the only one who gets to be an ass to you.” You retorted quickly, a bite still evident in your tone.

“Aww, when did kitty get rid of her claws?” She teased, stepping towards you. Glancing over her shoulders you checked to make sure the blinds to your office windows were closed.

“Ugh, five minutes. Shut up for five minutes.” You exasperated.

A smirk grew in on her face, “I think I can find a way to occupy myself. Besides he did say to let off steam.” You watched as her eyes darted between your lips and eyes. Rio hovered in front of you, her warm breath fanning over your face. You leaned up initiating a gentle kiss. She cupped your face deepening the kiss, passionately. Breaths heaving as your fists twisted in her blazer, pulling her closer. Her hands fell to your side thumbs tracing patterns, sliding her thigh between your legs.

“I hate you,” you rasped out in between kisses, “I want to hate you.”

“I don’t want you to hate me. I never did.” she pulled back.

Can I?” Her fingertips stopped at the edge of the waistband of your slacks, her other hand on the small of your back keeping you upright. Eyes glossing over your face for any reaction.

“Yes.” You breathed out , “may I return the favor?”

“‘F course.”

Her hand slipped into your pants fingers ghosting over your sensitive bud, hips jerking for more pressure. Undoing her belt you’re sure she felt the same as her breaths stuttered when your fingers grazed her clit, drawing light circles.

“Already so wet from kissing?” Rio lightly mocked, running her fingers over your slick slit. As her fingers eased into you a low groan escaped you.

“Hush. You have no room to tease.” Your palm pushed against her as a digit slowly sunk into her own wetness making it easy. She could bury her face in the crook of your neck all she wants but you still feel the vibrations as she moaned when you added another finger.

Wrapping your legs around the back of her knees, you tried to keep your noises at a minimum as her fingers pumped in and out of your fluttering walls. Your movements faltered minimally before returning with fervor, both of your palms rubbing each others clits.

“I got you.” Whispering in her ear when you felt her knees quiver, curling your free arm around her. Her soft lips return to yours, nipping at your lower lip.

Curling your fingers into her warm depths, hitting the spongy spot her body started to shake. Holding onto her tighter you worked her through her orgasm, as she kissed you harder muffling herself, you swallowed her moans eagerly.

Releasing herself from your lips to breathe you bit her shoulder to fight your screams, as white hot pleasure crashed through you. Rio curled her fingers, an extra shock coursing through your body. Both of your shaky bodies stilled, coming down from your highs. Removing yourselves from each other you grabbed some tissues to clean up, your facing heating up when you turned back around to see her sucking your wetness off of her fingers.

“You ate the cookies, right?” Lifting your head to see her proudly smiling, “I may have added a love potion.”

“Stop,” you laughed, lightly pushing her shoulder, tucking her shirt back into she pants. Rio chuckled pecking your lips, smoothing your shirt.

“Let me take you on a lunch date.” Rio suggested starting to move over to grab the file. You grabbed her arm not wanting to leave your proximity yet, “Rio I-”

She looked at you quizzically as your words died out. You wanted to tell her how you felt, no doubt she felt the same after what just transpired but you still somewhat felt it wasn’t the right time.

“I love you too.” your eyes widened, a smile growing on both your faces,” Now let’s go get lunch.”

[why-i-love-comics]

DC's 'Twas the 'Mite Before Christmas #1 - "Streaks in the Sky" (2023)

written by Michael W. Conrad art by Gavin Guidry & Ryan Cody

[poppy5991]

Dabi: I’d take a bullet for you. I’m obviously the best league member.

Shigaraki: You’re suicidal. That means nothing.

[samgirl98]

DC X DP Prompt #4

It turns out that one of the things Danny inherited from Bruce was his need to make contingency plans.

Or: Danny's family finds out that he has contingency plans for all of them, including if Danny turns evil and how to permanently stop him

Bruce feels a certain way when he finds out his son has a plan to basically commit suicide.

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil,

A recent ask has prompted me to ask, given my father also hanged himself and left me with a raging case of PTSD: would you be willing to please tag any suicide-related asks with a tw: suicide? I would appreciate it. (Answer not necessary, and if you can't or don't want to, I understand.)

I'll do my best. I cannot promise I'll remember every time, or even spot it every time.

Also, for people who are triggered, episode 3 of Good Omens Season 2 has a threatened (but foiled) suicide attempt, and a mention of a long-ago suicide.

[justoneotherthing123]

Okay but like he's not working as a video essayist anymore though. He was trying to rebrand on tiktok and the "free advertising" the "Online Leftist Discourse Industrial Complex" gave him made him stop doing that. It's because people keep pointing out that he lied and scammed people that he's not currently lying and scamming people on youtube and tiktok.

On the hbomberguy subreddit there's a weekly thread talking about good youtubers that aren't as famous. It's a weekly thread that's trying to give attention to people with less clout in their community who do deserve that attention. They've been doing that for months. By contrast, they spent five months NOT talking about James Somerton until they found out that 1) he was trying to go back to tiktok, 2) also he was never sorry about plagiarism, and 3) he was absolutely manipulating people with that suicide note.

I know that some people out there consider all criticism a personal and hateful attack, but do you maybe think there's a reason why The Left™ chose to show that this specific guy had two alt accounts? Do you think they chose to show the tweets in which he goes "plagiarism and lies are no big deal, stop being angry about it," "if plagiarism and lies are a big deal then his cowriter did it," and "you people made him kill himself" for some reason? Do you think it may have something to do with him trying to rebrand on tiktok after he wrote a suicide note that made a bunch of people call the people who accused him of plagiarism and lying of being murderers?

[skxtchyghost]

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 64

There is an entire mountain range in the TARDIS. Ace once climbed a snowy mountain inside the TARDIS, and she used to hide in the mountains when she and the Seventh Doctor would argue. (Audio: The Settling)

Ace learned to fence and swordfight from one of Cleopatra's guards. (Audio: The Settling)

The Fifth Doctor is scared of spiders. He has been known to freeze when he sees them, getting Peri to move them out of his way. (Short story: Light at the End of the Tunnel)

In the aftermath of his trial and getting Grant back to his homeworld, the Sixth Doctor contemplated suicide, thinking "it would be best to surrender; just let go of the rope and allow cold water to soothe him, to take his troubled consciousness away." (Novel: Killing Ground)

UNIT files list the Seventh Doctor as the most dangerous incarnation. (Audio: Persuasion)

The Eighth Doctor has been known to make "little piggy oink-oink" noises when he feels like pigs need to be comforted. (Novel: Dominion)

While imprisoned, the Fifth Doctor was once locked in solitary confinement for sixth months - long enough that when he got out, he was shaky on his legs and not used to daylight. (Audio: Doing Time)

Fitz Kreiner tried to kill a guy named Ed Hill. When this did not work, the Eighth Doctor picked up a gun himself and shot him to death. (Novel: Revolution Man)

The Sixth Doctor's pyjamas are loose and silver in color. They have prints of many different breeds of cats on them, all of which are wearing his signature coat. Mel almost "died of shock" when she saw them. (Novel: Instruments of Darkness)

The Fifth Doctor recalled that Jo once got herself into trouble with a lot of giant tortoises during one of the Master's evil schemes and that the Third Doctor had had to lower himself down on a three mile chain to communicate with winks and blinks and negotiate her release. (Audio: The Last Fairy Tale)

Ace was aware that the Seventh Doctor was not afraid of any monster, of pain, or of dying. He was afraid of being alone. (Novel: The Left-Handed Hummingbird)

The Doctor played a female incarnation of Omega in a school play at the Academy. (Short story: He's Behind You)

The Saga of the Time Lords was a theater performance said to portray the history of the Time Lords (although it was inaccurate). Notably, Omega became "the Hand of Meg," and "Rassilon the Dashing" was "President of Time." The other named character in the play was referred to as "Brother Braxiatel." (Short story: He's Behind You)

While talking to Rose about The Saga of the Time Lords, the Tenth Doctor compared it to fanfiction. Then he said that he loves fanfiction and thinks that Rose should read some of his. (Short story: He's Behind You)

During the Time War, the Eighth Doctor built an android companion named Ria. She was designed to be the perfect companion, to tell him that what he was doing was right. (Audio: Lies in Ruins)

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[somekindofsentience]

the fact that so many of the posts tagged with us election are begging people not to kill themselves is actually breaking me