Tumgik
#tw sh
support · 10 years
Text
Everything okay?
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone. There are many support services that are here to help. For 24/7 peer support and other resources, message KokoBot on Tumblr.
If you are in the United States, please try:
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (1-800-273-8255) The Trevor Project (LGBTQ youth, ages 13-24) National Eating Disorders Association (online chat, text) RAINN (National Sexual Assault Hotline)
If you are outside the United States, visit IASP to find resources for your country.
For more resources, please visit our Counseling & Prevention Resources page for a list of services that may be able to help.
442K notes · View notes
pienhime · 14 hours
Text
Tumblr media
24 notes · View notes
Text
tw for sh
well, i guess ill try this trend... (a few weeks later lmao-)
if this post gets 300 notes, ill try to stop self harming.
445 notes · View notes
the-nonbinary-kony · 3 months
Text
ya know what….imma try a part 2…
if this post gets let’s say 500 notes by my birthday (Jan. 9) I will burn my razor in a fire.
548 notes · View notes
Text
the farmhouse
tw!! implied s/h
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
this has been on my mind since i started planning the farmhouse arc,,, was just a little nervous to actually do anything with it
475 notes · View notes
ennuidays · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
764 notes · View notes
brbarou · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
peace after the slaughter
662 notes · View notes
abyssark · 8 months
Text
Tw sh artworks
Tumblr media
800 notes · View notes
incognitopolls · 1 month
Text
We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.
272 notes · View notes
waiting-so-long · 2 months
Text
Deserve It
Established poly 141 x GN!Reader (they/them, no physical description)
Warnings - Trigger Warnings specifically. Reference to ED/unhealthy relationship to food. Talk, and description of SH/Burning yourself. Talk of prescription medication. Nightmares. Bad self image and talk. Please tell me if I missed any ❤️
A/N - this is a pretty heavy one, so please heed the warnings. and please take care of yourself and don’t read if it will trigger you. Love you ❤️ not tagging anyone on this one, because well obviously not. This was barely edited sorry.
———
Johnny has been on high alert this past week, with your nightmares starting up again. He knows that’s the first warning sign they get before your mental health takes a rapid decline.
He knows why you seek him out first. Knows you feel like you don’t have the right to ‘bother’ John and Simon, claiming they’ve got enough on their plates. As if you aren’t one of the most important people in their lives. He also knows why you don’t go to Kyle for them, either. While Kyle always has the best intentions, he has a way of forcing others to talk about things, even if you’d rather not form them into tangible words. He doesn’t try to be pushy, but he does pry. And sometimes that does more damage than good.
So, Johnny has no problem just holding you on nights like this. The two of you curled up on the couch to not disturb the others still in bed. His shirt damp with your tears, one of his hands in your hair, the other stroking your back each time you gasp out a shaky breath.
“ S’alright, hen. You’re safe, ‘m here, love.” Johnny coos as you hold him tighter, your breathing coming in a bit smoother.
Thankfully, you eventually fall back to sleep on his chest. Warm and comforted in his arms.
Though, Johnny doesn’t sleep a wink. His mind racing, because he just wants this to stop. He just wants you to feel better, to not have to deal with this shit. Wishes you didn’t have your traumas and your struggles. He wishes he could bear it as his own, he could handle it, he thinks, if he could just see a genuine smile on your face again.
He might be the only one you’ve reached out to as of yet, but he’s not the only one who notices you’re struggling.
No. Kyle feels your absence each morning and night. The two of you usually share the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your faces together, his arms wrapped around your waist as you fix your hair. That’s his time alone with you, sacred time where he gets to see you wash away the stresses of the day, or prepare for them anew. His heart aches knowing you aren’t taking care of yourself.
Similarly, John aches each time he clears your plate, more food left untouched each day. “Made your favorite,” he tells you again and again, hoping that maybe if it was something you loved it would make it easier to go down. He’s had no such luck.
You’re not taking your pills, either. Simon knows. He’s been keeping track, only because you usually take yours before him. But it’s been days since he’s had to move your bottles to reach his own in the cabinet. He’s even gone as far as laying them on top of one of his shirts he left on your dresser, hoping you’ll take them with the offering. His heart swelled when he saw you wearing the shirt, but quickly deflated when he found the yellow bottle abandoned on the floor, just as full as before. (He knows. He counted.)
But they all know that you’ll come to them when you need them. This isn’t any different than any time before. Right?
When you announce that you’re going for a walk one evening, they all glance at each other. That’s a good sign, isn’t it? Fresh air, and all that.
“You want company?” Kyle tries to hide how eager he is for you to say yes, desperate to spend some quality time with you, to hold you.
The disappointment is heavy, weighing each of them down, when you respond with a quick “No, thanks,” and rush out the door.
“What do we do?” Johnny looks to Price, blinking away the stinging in his eyes.
John sighs, his hand coming to caress Soap’s cheek. “I don’t know, love. I wish I did.”
They wait for you to return. They wait, and they wait. Kyle tries to distract himself by tracing patterns into Johnny’s palm. Price just sits across from them at the table, knee bouncing, as he strokes his beard. After two whole hours, Ghost had enough- his pacing, and the others’ attempts at comfort doing nothing to calm the anxiety he feels.
“If they don’t walk back through that door in two minutes, ’m hunting ‘em down and draggin’ their ass home.” A stranger may have thought that was a threat, the Ghost leaking out, but not his partners. They hear the concern, the sadness, and the fear in his tone.
“Si, I’m sure they’re fine…” Kyle squeezes Soap’s hand and tries to sound reassuring, though he knows he’d leave right beside him to search for you.
John comes to stand beside Simon, a comforting hand gripping the back of his neck. “They’ll come home.” He whispers, pulling Simon closer, foreheads pressing together. “I know it.”
As if on cue, your key turns the lock, and Simon is in front of the door before you even have a chance to open it. When you do, you startle at his proximity, taking an instinctual step back, but he grabs your arm and pulls you into his chest.
“Don’t ever do that again. We were worri-“ Simon stops when he smells your hair. He pulls you back quickly, hands on your shoulders, and you avoid his gaze, shameful, red-rimmed eyes falling to the floor. He guides you inside, and as soon as the door closes he puts his hand out. “Give them to me.” He doesn’t mean to snap at you, and his gut wrenches when you flinch at his tone. He softens, tires again. “Please, lovey.”
You sigh, chin bunching under your frown, reaching into your his hoodie pocket and placing the cigarette pack in his palm. He opens it, quickly counting that there were four missing before huffing and pinching the bridge of his nose.
Gaz makes his way over, sensing Simon’s stress rising. “C’mon, sweet thing. Let’s get you changed, yeah?” He grabs your wrist to pull you towards the bedroom, but quickly lets go when you yelp at his grip. Price and Johnny quickly look at each other, before rushing to complete the concerned huddle around you. Kyle cocks his head to the side. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” You pull your arm to your chest, deflecting his question.
“Like hell it’s nothin’.” Johnny snatches your hand, shoving your sleeve up to your elbow despite you trying to pull away.
None of them can breathe, the room falls eerily quiet. Or at least it would, if your blood wasn’t rushing in your head, humiliation heating your body from your chest out. Four sets of eyes tracing over the fresh burns dotting your arm - several rows of circles, remnants of ash between each one- while your eyes stay focused on your shoes.
Johnny drops your hand, only so he can force you into a crushing hug; you try to ignore the way his exhale stutters against your hair. A pair of lips presses to your temple, facial hair poking your skin. John.
He whispers your name against your skin, “Why didn’t you tell us it was this bad?” You wish he sounded disappointed, angry even. You deserve that much, don’t you? You deserve them to be mad, you deserve to be reprimanded. So why does the heartbreak in his voice feel like the cruelest punishment he could inflict? You let him down. You let them all down.
That thought breaks whatever semblance of strength you had left, and your knees buckle as a sob escapes your throat. Johnny braces your weight, easily scooping you up and walking you to the couch, Kyle and John following behind.
Simon can’t bring himself to move, heavy feet glued in place by the gravity of the situation. He should have done more for you. He shouldn’t have let you go off alone. Shouldn’t have let you go so long with your medication. He would have shoved the pills down your goddamn throat if it meant you wouldn’t have done this. Tells himself he wouldn’t care if you were mad at him, hated him for it. Not if it means he could have saved you this pain. He could have done more. He should have done more. He let you down. He let all of you down.
“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t plan to, I promise! I just- I just wanted to breathe. But I c-couldn’t,” you cry into Kyle’s neck now. Johnny rubbing your back, as John cleans the burns, placing cream and bandages over them.
“What do you mean, honey?” He asks, voice rough with emotion but soothing.
You shrug, but still try to explain. “Just feel like I can’t do anything right. I can’t even eat, or sleep, I’ve got this weight on my chest all the time, so I feel like I can’t even breathe.” You sniffle, snuggling closer to Kyle’s warmth, his thumb rubbing your cheek. “The cigarettes… just missed ‘em. Thought they’d help. And they did, for a bit...”
They let your words hang in the air, waiting for you to continue. Price pulls your sleeve back down over the now cared-for wounds. They wait for one beat. Two… Three…
Until, finally, Simon finds his voice again, coming to squat in front of you. “Then what?” You look up when you feel him nudge your shoulder, encouraging you to shift. He tilts his head, forcing you to meet his warm eyes. He prompts you again. “‘S okay. Tell us what happened.”
“After the first one, I went to put it out. On the ground, y’know like a normal fucking person.” You spit and roll your eyes in disgust.
“Hey.” Johnny warns at your tone, and Simon shakes his head. They won’t tolerate you talking down to yourself. Even if you deserve it.
You nod, continuing. “I didn’t mean to. But after the first one touched me, I just felt better. Lighter. My head felt more clear than it has in so long.” Your voice cracks, and so do your partners’ hearts. “I just couldn’t stop after that. I could finally breathe, think. I needed it.” You deserved it. “I know I don’t make any fucking sense. I know I shouldn’t have done it. It was so stupid, I know it was.” You can’t help your words from turning bitter once more. You start to retreat inward again, thoughts swarming in your brain, your eyes focused on nothing, your hand rubbing harshly against the new bandages sending sharp jolts of pain and clarity to your head.
“Stop it.” John grabs both of your hands, holding them firm to your legs. “It’s not stupid. Just tell us what you need. We’re here.”
“I guess just… hold me? All of you?”
“You think you’ll let me help you wash off first?” Kyle’s quick to explain when the others all give him a shocked look. “No funny stuff! Just so that the bed doesn’t smell like smoke.” He looks back to you, “I could wash your hair, if you want?” He smiles kindly, and the tears build in your eyes again as you nod.
True to his word, he helps you bathe, only focusing on cleaning and soothing you. Once you’re dried and dressed (in one of Johnny’s sweaters and John’s sweatpants this time), Kyle wraps his arms around your waist, pressing sweet kisses to your shoulders as your brush your teeth. When you climb in bed, Simon shifts and pulls your head in his lap, starting to gently brush out the mattes that have been forming in your hair.
You promise to take your pills in the morning, and you know they’ll hold you to it. They know you’re no where near okay, might not be for a long time. But you’re loved no matter what.
They’ll make sure you know that. They’ll make sure you know you deserve it.
———
A/N - If you’re still here, ty for reading. I needed to get these thoughts put somewhere other than my head. Love y’all, please stay safe and take care of yourselves ❤️
343 notes · View notes
Text
Warning. The following contains references to SH in Arc3. Please be carefull if this might be triggereing to you!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Okay here the update on my personal au now containing Arc3 i hope this will be readable its all gotten a bit small! I am just making a whole new post for this updated version so its all in one place
Sorry if its hard to read id recommend reading the light and dark parts top to bottom on Arc3
345 notes · View notes
doma3681 · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
Cry of Fear
427 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
This is something that happened to me a while ago and I remembered it and like. oh. oh that's them.
COMMISSION INFO || PATREON
768 notes · View notes
greenieart · 4 days
Text
Tumblr media
I was inspired.
Tumblr media
175 notes · View notes
cuttingboardqueen · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
184 notes · View notes
pienhime · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
186 notes · View notes