#WHO DESERVES SO MUCH BETTER

[starcrossedrose]

@solembum22

favorite character from any media BUT it has to be a woman. in the tags now go (pls talk to me about your favorite fictional women pls pls pls pls)

[lotus-pear]

two mimir.. 🤲🏼🤲🏼

[trans-axolotl]

last year i started trying to write an article where i documented every reported instance of psych abuse that happened in 2023 that i could find and had to stop halfway through because it was so fucking horrific. and that was only the shit that had been reported, that i could find in databases and in local news articles. the numbers and stories of psych abuse were staggering and what was worse is that i knew it was only a fraction of the actual abuse that happened that year, and that the actual number was so much worse. And even in just that fraction of news articles, in the half the states I searched for: there were dozens of deaths. Over a hundred different reported instances of rape. Over 300 different reported instances of illegal use of restraint and seclusion.

And i just keep thinking, over and over again, about how that is just a fraction of the reality. It is almost impossible to report psych abuse as it's happening when you're locked up in a psych facility where you don't have independent access to a phone, you can get cut off from your friends and family, and your access to a "grievance and reporting process" depends entirely on the same people who are abusing you. Even after you get out, there are so many barriers. It is very, very difficult to get anyone to believe you as a credible witness once you get certain things written in your chart. Psych staff can point to your diagnoses, their documentation, and say a million fucking things to get away with abuse.

and sometimes it feels like no one gives a shit besides other psych survivors, other mad/mentally ill/neurodivergent/disabled people. this is the same shit that happened in asylums, that happened in the "reformed" institutions of the 50s, that happened in group homes, that happens in psych wards, that happens in residential treatment. it hasn't fucked changed--it's just gotten new names, hiding behind the labels of "evidence based care" and "least restrictive alternative." when i really start to think about it, i get so fucking angry and full of grief for everyone i love who is still fucking locked up in these places. it just cements my determination to never shut up about this because we need to look out for each other and take care of each other, and i do not take my freedom to even be out here and advocating for granted.

[robiniswriting]

martha jones is stronger than the us marines because i think i would have killed anyone that treated me the way the doctor treated her in cold blood. he starts off their time together by kissing her passionately in a hospital hallway and when she’s like “who are you omg?” he starts waxing poetic to her about this random girl she’s never met. and then he ends their time together by having homoerotic tension with and then sobbing over the body of a man who just made her have the worst year of her life. its a wonder she didn’t go apeshit

[infinityinakiss]

are you saying that the tardis has been screaming all this time and no one cared?

[sentientsky]

“She never begs. She never gives any ground. She knows that she's right.”

(this is still a wip, but i’m not sure if i’ll actually get around to properly finishing it—i’m posting this here just in case)

[happypeachsludgeflower]

So, in PIDW, there was obviously wife plots that could bring back the dead (mushroom body being one of them), and since we know Airplane is a hack that reuses concepts over and over, there’s probably multiple wife plots that could work, so like, where’s the PIDW fics where Liu Qingge somehow comes back to life, memories of Shen Jiu trying to save him intact, and goes to hunt the asshole down so he can repay his life debt, and along the way accidentally clears Shen Jiu’s name of all his crimes and now everyone is convinced Shen Qingqiu is a saint.

[inkskinned]

you were raised in comparison.

it wasn't always obvious (well. except for the times that it was), but you internalized it young. you had to eat what you didn't like, other people are going hungry, and you should be grateful. you had to suck it up and walk on the twisted ankle, it wasn't broken, you were just being a baby. you were never actually suffering, people obviously had it worse than you did.

you had a roof over your head - imagine! with the way you behaved, with how you talked back to your parents? you're lucky they didn't kick you out on your ass. they had friends who had to deal with that. hell, you have friends who had to deal with that. and how dare you imply your father isn't there for you - just because he doesn't ever actually talk to you and just because he's completely emotionally checked out of your life doesn't mean you're not fucking lucky. think about your cousins, who don't even get to speak to their dad. so what if yours has a mean streak; is aggressive and rude. at least you have a father to be rude to you.

you really think you're hurting? you were raised in a home! you had access to clean water! you never so much as came close to experiencing a real problem. sure, okay. you have this "mental illness" thing, but teenagers are always depressed, right. it's a phase, you'll move on with your life.

what do you mean you feel burnt out at work. what do you mean you mean you never "formed healthy coping mechanisms?" we raised you better than that. you were supposed to just shoulder through things. to hold yourself to high expectations. "burning out" is for people with real jobs and real stress. burnout is for people who have sick kids and people who have high-paying jobs and people who are actually experiencing something difficult. recently you almost cried because you couldn't find your fucking car keys. you just have lost your sense of gratitude, and honestly, we're kind of hurt. we tell you we love you, isn't that enough? if you want us to stick around, you need to be better about proving it. you need to shut up about how your mental health is ruined.

it could be worse! what if you were actually experiencing executive dysfunction. if you were really actually sick, would you even be able to look at things on the internet about it? you just spend too much time on webMD. you just like to freak yourself out and feel like you belong to something. you just like playing the victim. this is always how you have been - you've always been so fucking dramatic. you have no idea how good you have it - you're too fucking sensitive.

you were like, maybe too good of a kid. unwilling to make a real fuss. and the whole time - the little points, the little validations - they went unnoticed. it isn't that you were looking for love, specifically - more like you'd just wanted any one person to actually listen. that was all you'd really need. you just needed to be witnessed. it wasn't that you couldn't withstand the burden, but you did want to know that anyone was watching. these days, you are so accustomed to the idea of comparison - you don't even think you belong in your own communities. someone always fits better than you do. you're always the outlier. they made these places safe, and then you go in, and you are just not... quite the same way that would actually-fit.

you watch the little white ocean of your numbness lap at your ankles. the tide has been coming in for a while, you need to do something about it. what you want to do is take a nap. what you want to do is develop some kind of time machine - it's not like you want your life to stop, not completely, but it would really nice if you could just get everything to freeze, just for a little while, just until you're finished resting. but at least you're not the worst you've been. at least you have anything. you're so fucking lucky. do you have any concept of the amount of global suffering?

a little ant dies at the side of your kitchen sink. you look at its strange chitinous body and think - if you could just somehow convince yourself it is enough, it will finally be enough and you can be happy. no changes will have to be made. you just need to remember what you could lose. what is still precious to you.

you can't stop staring at the ant. you could be an ant instead of a person, that is how lucky you are. it's just - you didn't know the name of the ant, did you. it's just - ants spend their whole life working, and never complain. never pull the car over to weep.

it's just - when it died, it curled up into a tight little ball.

something kind of uncomfortable: you do that when you sleep.

[mydarlinglaszlo]

never gonna stop losing my mind over this scene i fear

[sebille]

Oh the little change in his expression

[cherry-pop-elf]

Night terrors

Anya x Reader

Can be read as platonic because we all want to take care of her like we wish someone would for us

AN: As a victim of sexual assault I feel it is important to have a realistic fluff story about the aftermath of it. How it affects the person after it’s been done and how the trauma lingers. How it’s so very important for the person to have a support network. YOU will be her support network. Thank you

Also not to get political but god women in the USA are experiencing a massive increase of assaults so call this projection, or call this training for the inevitable

SUM: Despite surviving that Tulpar adventure, despite all the good karma thrown back at you all, there are just too many many scars to truly recover from

Warnings: Past sexual assault, nightmares, PTSD, whump, abortion, paranoia, it’s gonna be a stressful read, there will be fluff don’t worry, paranoia, inspired/based on my own experiences

“STOP-!”

Anya was screaming in her sleep again.

Woke you up pretty quickly, as you were sharing a bed with her. She was rather scared to sleep alone. Afraid that someone will just break in and take advantage of her. That somehow Jimmy, who long since was dead, will break in again.

“Anya-! Anya wake up! It’s me! Anya-!” You would shake her and try to get her to wake up. To get her out of that terrifying cloud of memories. Her poor face was pale and full of sweat, and she was scared awake by you shaking her. For a fleeting moment she thought it was Jimmy.

As she gave another cry, you reached over and turned on the bedside tables lamp.

She saw your face, and finally took a breathe.

You two weren’t on the Tulpar anymore. Jimmy wasn’t going to hurt either of you ever again. Swansea was home with his wife. Daisuke was home with his mother and father. And she was here with you.

She was alive.

“I….Im sorry-“ Anya sniffled, as you just pulled her into your arms. Gentle with combing your fingers through her hair. Just gentle reminders to not be sorry. To not be sorry for being justified with her fear.

“He won’t ever get you again. I promise.” You would remind her, but she would still tremble.

“Can we check the locks again?” She would ask you, and you would nod. Often times this was the case. No matter how many times she would ask you that question you never got annoyed. It’s good to check the locks anyway. Gotta stay safe after all.

You would both climb out of bed, put on your robes, and go walking around the home. One of your hands was left to be held by Anya’s, as the other would be used to check the locks on everything. From the multiple at front door, from each window, to that of the back door. Each one checked, as Anya would hug at you close.

Was a very nice home, you had to admit. After having rescue finally called, and being saved, the media went nuts. Especially on the fact Curly was still alive. Gave Anya the much needed support to show she was very worthy of a position as a proper doctor. That also meant she got herself quite the hefty salary. Also helps that she now had partial royalties to the book she helped write about the adventure on the ship.

“Every lock is secure.” You explained, as she gave still an anxious look.

“Let’s check each room, and closet. Yeah?” That made her quickly nod.

Now you two were roaming the entire house now. Checking under furniture, in closets, all the nine yards. No stone was left un-turned. You would do it a million times for her. She deserved to have some kind of relief from it all.

“There we go. No Jimmy.” You would give her a hug, and she hugged you back. Still shaken, but at least she was breathing more steady.

The two of you would return to the bedroom, where she did her routine. Checking under her pillow for her sheathed knife, the bedside for her baseball bat, the drawer for her gun, and to take an extra pill to help with the anxiety burst she was having. Her routine.

She would try and lay down, only to dart her head towards the bedroom door. Eyes wide with raw and pure fear.

“I swear I heard him at the door. I swear I did. He said my name he said my name-“ She whimpered, as you would get up. You opened the door, looked around the hallway, and returned.

“Don’t worry Anya. I didn’t hear a single thing.” You reassured, as you would lock the bedroom door for her. Along with putting a chair under the door handle. Even went as far as to double check the bedroom windows, and closed the curtains.

“I’m so sorry-“ She would begin again, as her eyes watered. She felt like such a burden. To have all this fear and paranoia. To the point she couldn’t feel safe when left alone. You couldn’t blame her though. The wounds were still so horribly fresh. Not to mention sometimes PTSD can kick in so many years later. You’ll take the morbid comfort in having it kick in now where you all can handle it now and prepare for the future than suddenly out of nowhere in God knows how long.

It is what it is.

She wasn’t the only one traumatized after all, and she shouldn’t need to apologize for justified fear.

You would pull her back into your arms, and you both laid down. You would turn on the white noise machine for her, to help block the paranoid sounds of voices and scratches from the doors, and would just talk with her. Talk until her medication kicked in to help her sleep.

Didn’t matter what it was. It was just noise to keep her mind distracted.

You wondered how the rest of the crew was doing. How they were dealing with it.

They all had family, so maybe they were doing well. Really should meet up again soon. Can’t be blamed life is so busy.

Curly was back living with his parents and siblings, which they welcomed with open arms. Even his friends before the crew were willing to all share a space to help.

Swansea had his wife and even his kids. Sure he says he’s too old to be traumatized but he keeps checking on his kids way more often now. That’s for sure.

God knows when poor Daisuke’s PTSD will kick in. He may be acting fine now but it’s gonna be a ticking time bomb. It’ll come at him sooner or later. For now his parents were feeling like monsters for pressuring him into that intern ship. He never blamed them, of course. He is even still working under a mentorship with Swansea even. Guess not everything was negative.

Then there was you and Anya. She was the most traumatized of all. There was even the trauma of an abortion. There’s still so many emotions with that as well, but you held her hand through it. Even as far as to move in with her to help. You two had always been very close. Even before joining the crew. You two were always tagged together. Even nicked named her assistant to a point.

You’ll stick with her through the ends of the earth.

“Wanna go visit Curly in the morning? It’ll be Saturday. Maybe we can even invite Swansea and Daisuke.” You offered. Just something positive to look forward to. Something worth waiting for.

“That would be nice.” She muttered, as her own paranoias exhaustion was kicking in. Too tired to even be afraid. Often times how it ends. She gets herself so worked up it ends up being the very same thing that makes her fall back asleep.

“Yeah. We can check out his new prosthetics. Daisuke said he even bought stickers specifically for them.” That had Anya smile. That sweet smile that was hard to come by right now. One that was filled with comfort. Comfort of such an innocent and sweet thought.

“Swansea says he’s also going to attach his own upgrades to it. Not sure how that will work, or what the hell he’s planning, but not gonna lie I need to see if he gives him rocket boosters.”

That got a little laugh from her. The both of you imagining poor Captain Curly flying around in the sky, as Daisuke runs around with some trampoline to try and catch him on.

Just something silly to cut through it all.

Seemed to work, as you could feel her breathing easier now. Her breath not so intense. Was far more steady, and you could tell she fell back asleep. You were thankful for it. Not because she was annoying you. No. Never. But because she needed her rest. She deserves it. She already is working long hours at the hospital, which you bet is because she is trying to avoid being isolated and alone at all cost maybe even reduce sleeping to, so she needed proper sleep more than ever.

And you’ll do your best for her. To help her with it all. You were her little assistant. You’ll do what an assistant does best. Make sure your boss is able to tackle projects easier.

And this project was healing. A project that won’t ever end, will have ups and downs, and be taxing. Over time out the ass and no vacations.

And you know what you say to that?

Bring it.

Thank you so much for reading. This was a more vulnerable piece because Anya really reminded me so much of myself. How I’m suppose to take care of everyone else, while my traumatic abuse is just swept under the rug.

Since you read all the way to the end, maybe take a look at this

National Sexual Assault Hotline:

1-800-656-4673

National Domestic Violence Hotline:

800-799-7233

RAINN (Rape Abuse Incest National Network)

1-800-656-4673

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

1-800-273-8255

You deserve love and support. What happened wasn’t your fault in the slightest. Not even for a single second. You deserve happiness, hope, and to live a long and healthy life. Everything will be ok again. Doesn’t seem like it now, but it will. I promise

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Yue Qingyuan and Tianlang Jun having tea together ☕

[Commission for @absolmon!]

[chyarui]

WE WERE ROBBED OF SCENES WITH THESE TWO

It could have been SO good

I just feel like their dynamic could hold just as much if not more mutual understanding than even that between aizawa and shinsou

anyways dadmic and shinson forever 💜💛

[scumsketches]

Thinking about my big brother ghost Yuan au again, specifically the relationship between Shen Yuan and Yue Qi, because you know there's no way Shen Jiu doesn't tell his Qi-Ge about his tag along.

At first, Yue Qi was probably somehow MORE suspicious of Shen Yuan than Shen Jiu was, because who's this freeloader in his Xiao Jiu's head!!! What does he want with poor Xiao Jiu? You can't have him, evil ghost!!!

Eventually, he and Shen Jiu get used to Shen Yuan though, and Yue Qi starts to actually really appreciate Shen Yuan's presence. There have been multiple times where Shen Yuan has convinced Shen Jiu to seek out Yue Qi for help with things he otherwise would have hidden, and clearly SY is keeping SJ safe with his interference, as SJ has been getting caught less, getting hurt less, and getting into less fights than usual.

What really ends up solidifying the bond between Yue Qi and Shen Yuan, though, is when their Si-Jie was sold. Wu-ge had died the winter before, and Liu-Jie had run away, so after Si-Jie, Yue Qi was the oldest, and therefore it was his job to protect the younger slaves like Wu-Jie had. Xiao Jiu was inconsolable, having retreated into his mind and leaving Shen Yuan most of the control, and Yue Qi didn't have time to mourn or anyone to hide behind.

He was only ten years old.

Yue Qi was limping back to the building and surrounding alleyways the slave masters had claimed as their own, carrying the Bao he had run on his twisted ankle to get for the other slave children. They needed to eat in order to stay healthy, to stay healthy in order to survive.

It was getting dark, but if he hurried now he would be able to slip out and go beg in the red light district. He knew some ladies who had taken a liking to Xiao Jiu and himself, they wouldn't chase him away, and then he could make up the money from Shiba missing today because of her sickness, and from Shiwu who was too busy mourning Si-Jie, and-

"Xiao Qi?" It was the familiar too-soft version of his Xiao Jiu's voice. Shen Yuan, then. He paused, turning towards him. "Yes?"

"You've been gone since before morning, Xiao Qi. And what happened to your leg?"

"it's alright, Shen-Xiangsheng. I've just been getting food for the others, and I'm going to go to the red light district-" he heard Shen Yuan tisk, before stepping forwards and putting a hand on Yue Qi's shoulder.

"Not on that leg you aren't. Come sit down, I'll bring the Bao to the others and help you with that leg."

Yue Qi felt his face scrunch up, his brow furrowing as he looked down at the man in the body of his closest friend. "If I don't, then Shiba and Shiwu are going to get beaten! And maybe even you too! And then Shiba won't recover from her sickness!" Yue Qi shouted, balling up his fists.

"Is that what you really want? To ruin the lives of some slave children while acting nice? Cause if that's true, you're a really pathetic ghost!"

Yue Qi froze. He just yelled at an adult. Sure, maybe that adult was in Xiao Jiu's body, and so he was little, but Xiao Jiu could be really strong when he wanted to, and Xiao Jiu had been so sad when Si-Jie went away, would he even notice that his tag along was beating up his Qi-Ge? Or maybe even if he did he wouldn't intervene, because Yue Qi was an awful little brat who raised his voice and barked like a dog at someone who was better than him, and-

And Shen Yuan's face didn't twist in anger like the slavers or the men in the markets might have. Instead, his face was filled with pity. No, not pity. Sympathy.

Maybe Shen Yuan was an adult, but he was also a ghost. A ghost that was stuck in the body of a little street kid like Yue Qi. So maybe he wouldn't beat him. Maybe Shen Yuan would just be sad for him, because he knew how bad it was out here, and maybe he wouldn't make it worse. Maybe he would just leave Yue Qi alone.

So caught up in his thoughts, Yue Qi didn't notice Shen Yuan had moved until he felt the warm arms around him. He froze.

Shen Yuan's hugs didn't feel like Si-Jie's. They weren't as warm and gentle, his hand didn't run over Yue Qi's back gently with shushing sounds coming from his mouth. They didn't feel like Xiao Jiu's either. Xiao Jiu was all sharp knees and elbows, chipped nails digging into his skin as if at any second Yue Qi would disappear if he didn't hold on.

Shen Yuan's hug was tight, and though he was shorter, he used a hand on the back of Yue Qi's head to tuck his face into his shoulder. The other hand rubbed gentle circles on his back, slowly pulling Yue Qi's mind back into his body.

Distantly, he heard Shen Yuan speaking. "That's right, breathe in, and out. You're doing so well, Xiao Qi. It's okay, I have you, you'll be alright."

His hands tightened into little fists in Shen Yuan's clothes and he felt himself lean against him, letting out a sudden sob he hadn't even realized had been caught in his chest. Before he knew it, he was sitting down, laying on Shen Yuan's chest and sobbing into his shoulder, holding on for dear life and shaking like a leaf in the wind. Shen Yuan was speaking, and it sounded soothing, but Yue Qi couldn't tell what he was saying through his sobs.

"Yuan-ge-" he whimpered, his voice cracking as he tried to burrow further into Shen Yuan.

"Shh, It's okay, it's okay, your Yuan-ge is here."

Yue Qi cried for a long time, until the sun had set and he had fully exhausted himself. Yuan-ge pulled him onto his back, somehow managing to carry him despite his small stature, and carried him into the alleyway where he and Xiao Jiu slept. He placed Yue Qi down, before pulling out the bricks that they hid their straw mat behind, pulling it out and laying it on the ground.

He watched as Yuan-ge placed one of the bricks at the end of the mat, before pulling Yue Qi onto it and pushing his sprained ankle up, placing the foot onto the brick.

"Keep your foot elevated, like this, okay? I'm going to go to the red light district. I'll get the money that Shiba and Shiwu need. You just rest, alright? He said. Yue Qi opened his mouth to protest, and suddenly found a warm Bao bun pushed into his mouth. At the taste, he couldn't help but grab it and begin to chew, but as he ate, he looked up and complained, "These were supposed to be for the others!"

Yuan-Ge sighed. "You're a growing boy, eat it. I'll get another Bao to make up for this one, okay?" Yue Qi could only glumly nod, and continue eating his bun.

Soon after Shen Yuan left, he felt himself slip into sleep, exhausted.

-

"Qi-ge, Qi-ge wake up!" He heard a familiar voice whisper shout in his ear. "Xiao Jiu?" He murmured, still hazy with sleep.

"Yuan got us some stuff, but he told me I should be the one out here to give it to you. Here." He blinked, as half a stick of tanghulu was shoved in his face. Squinting in the dark, he could make out a few bits of crystalized sugar stuck to Xiao Jiu's cheeks.

"Hmmmkay." He murmured, taking the stick and going to have a bite, when he felt a sudden rush of cold on his ankle. He yelped in surprise, but strangely, his ankle felt much better. Looking down, he saw Xiao Jiu using cloth scraps with a strange blueish paste on them to bind his ankle.

"Wha-"

"Yuan says it's called the winter's night lily of ice pack. Or something"

"Everwinters night lily! It's just basically an ice pack." Chimed Shen Yuan, making little sense as usual, before he faded away once more."

"Okay, that. The colds sposed' to help with your leg. Somehow. And also keep it elevated or something."

"It does feel better than it did before." Yue Qi agrees.

"Good. Keep it that way. Oh, also Yuan made a deal with some courtesans. Made a whole bunch of posters for some brothel called the Autumns Iris. They gave us some coins, so he said not to worry. Oh, and he got the Bao."

Yue Qi let out a long breath, as Xiao Jiu climbed onto the mat, flopping halfway on top of Yue Qi and accidentally elbowing him in the ribs. "I'm going to sleep now." He said, before curling up like a hissy cat.

Yue Qi stayed awake for a while longer. Yuan-ge did it. He did exactly what Yue Qi needed, maybe even better than Yue Qi could have. He didn't get mad when Yue Qi yelled at him. He helped him fix his ankle, even though it really wasn't that bad.

He cared. He wanted to protect him. And he was older, and smarter, and stronger than any of the other slaves had ever been.

Maybe, even though Si-Jie was gone, with Yuan-ge here, he and Xiao Jiu would be okay.

[iennoganan-aha]

Sigma PLEASE he’s not funny girl. GO‼️

[peachsayshi]

okay but like why did I hurt my own feelings thinking about baby daddy!sukuna telling his daughter that she needs to find a better man than him, a prince really, after she makes an innocent remark that she wants to marry someone just as sweet as her dad 😔