#fuck i need a hug

[depressedwebweaver]

One day, I will be old

One day, when I am old, I will look back on my life and shake my head. How foolish I had been to worry over things that meant nothing in the larger scheme of things. My constant panicking worry and desperation to achieve something that I didn’t care about at all.

One day, when I am old, I will look down at my hands and see my mothers hands, see my grandmother’s hands. I was born with their dainty hands, long fingers and slender palms. In my age they will become more slender, with no meat to pad them, boney and riddled with Arthritis. My joints will hurt and I’m sure that holding things will be difficult. It already is, at my age of 27, to grip something for too long. I will need help.

One day, when I am old, I will look at the sorrow of my life and wish that I had not been so cautious. That I had found someone to love me and hold me the way that I always hoped someone would, the way I had dreamed of being found, and someone deciding that I was worth the effort. That the touch of another person didn’t spark fear in me that was unwanted.

I used to hug people. I just did. I never asked because I loved them. I loved the people in my life, and I wanted to show them. Until I was told that wasn’t okay. So I stopped.

It’s not their fault. It’s not my fault.

I cannot ask to be held.

I cannot see beyond this ever widening gap between us to the other side and ask to hold your hand. Comfort in fleeting Hugs of people I care about when we part ways and nothing more. The affectionate punch of a fist in my shoulder.

I do not know what is okay. I wonder if I ever will. I miss the days when I’d be greeted with a Hug, without need to ask or be asked. I miss knowing when I was allowed to occupy the same space as someone else, I miss conversations being interrupted because friends saw me and wanted to physically hold me.

One day, when I am old, I will reflect on the chill in my aging bones, the softness of worn skin, and remember what it was like to hold my mother, to hug her, and cuddle, and lay my head on her shoulder. I’ll remember her scent, the comforting smell of my mother. And I’ll cry.

One day, when I am old, I will forget. My brain will go and I will forget my life. I will forget that I am old and believe that I am younger, I will forget friends, I will forget family, until I have nothing left.

One day, I will be old.

[keferon]

THIS FUCKING MOMENT

[tesspool]

momma might

[jaypentaghast]

please look at this for a second

wee john is holding him

[st4r-t3ars]

Freedom Burns

[amelia-yap]

it's april and they are bloody fools

[dr-spectre]

The way my fucking jaw hit the floor seeing CALLIE PULL OUT THE AIR GUITAR AGAIN AFTER SO MANY YEARS!!!!

AND THE LITTLE TWIST TOO!!! AHHHHH!!!!! HER JOYFUL BIG ASS SMILE AND WAVE TO THE AUDIENCE I CAN'T TAKE IT!!! I'M MELTING INTO A PUDDLE!!!! MY HEART IS LITERALLY GOING "BBBBTTTZZZZ!!!!!!!"

I feel so warm and fuzzy.... so energised.... I can't fucking go to sleep because all I'm gonna be thinking about is Callie Cuttlefish and when I think about Callie Cuttlefish I GET EXCITED AND SO HAPPY!!!!!!

She's both my serotonin AND dopamine pill. And I am ADDICTED!! I NEED MORE OF HER!!!!

WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?!?!?!

[coelii]

my shoulders might be really wide but that just means I’m well equipped for giving hugs

[medusas-graveyard]

War knows

Earth, now in danger after the infinite realms waged war against them, is on a time limit to reverse it. The shadows speak of a person; the only person who can change the fate of the whole planet. So the Justice League scramble to find this person, only for it to be revealed as Daniel Fenton-Wayne, the newest adoptee of Bruce Wayne.

The same person who made headlines in Gotham media for his mid-western charm, looked at them blankly and told them good luck.

[emo-batboy]

Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University

Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D

Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model

Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.

Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it

Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-

Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)

Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything

Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did

“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway

Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work

Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.

Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY

Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*

Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him

Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)

Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew

Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.

Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once

Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving

Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam

Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.

Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone

Makes a murder wall

Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people

Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*

Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time

Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad

Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*

Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM

Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)

Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*

Wears a suit to one of his finals

Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has

Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion

Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom

Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct

Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons

Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*

Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those

Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that

Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which

Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?

Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times

Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)

Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*

Okay that's all love you BYE

[untitledgoosegay]

re last reblog I do see fanfic culture pushing/replicating a certain model of "what trauma looks like," "how trauma works"

this is a problem across all areas of society obviously, but transformative works are, well, transformative. they're about crafting and modifying narratives where the fan-creator sees a flaw or a lack -- often for the better! don't get me wrong, I've done my fair share of "I take a hammer and I fix the canon," it's the main thing that gets my creative gears spinning -- but what happens when that "flaw" is simply a narrative not conforming to popular expectations?

some people just don't get PTSD from events that sound obviously traumatic. they're not masking, and they're not coping; they just straight-up didn't get the permanently-locked stress-response that defines PTSD. they walk away from a horrible experience going "well, that sucked, but it's over now." some people do get PTSD from events most people wouldn't find traumatic. we don't really know why some people get PTSD and others don't. but fandom has an idea of events that must be traumatizing, of a "correct" way to portray trauma. you see the problems with this lack of understanding in e.g. fans pressuring the devs of Baldur's Gate 3 to add dialogue where the player character badgers Halsin about his own feelings on his abuse -- because he must be traumatized, and his trauma must fit a certain mold and presentation of sexual trauma, under the mistaken impression that anything outside that narrow window is somehow "wrong" and disrespectful or even harmful to survivors.

take, for another example, the very common trope of a traumatized character who hates touch or sex "learning" to like touch or sex as a part of their healing process. certainly that can be healing for some people; other people will never like, or want, touch or sex, because of trauma or because they just don't. the assumption that someone who doesn't want sex or doesn't like to be touched must be traumatized, must be suffering from this perceived lack, is seriously harmful -- to asexual people, to people with sensory issues around touch, and to people for whom healing from trauma means freedom to refuse sex or touch.

and there's a secondary trope, one that's slightly more thoughtful but ultimately repeats the problem -- that once someone has learned that their boundaries will be respected, they'll feel it's safe to soften those boundaries. once they feel safe refusing touch or sex, they'll feel comfortable allowing it on their own terms. but many people don't, and many people won't! many people will simply never want to be touched, and never want sex, and they are not suffering or broken or lacking because of it. the idea that proving you'll respect someone's boundaries entitles you to test those boundaries -- the paradox is obvious, and yet this is something i've seen hurt (re-traumatize) people i care for.

people are imperfect victims. people don't heal in the ways you expect. many people have positive memories of their abuse, of their abusers. many people hurt others in the course of their trauma, in ways that can't easily be unpacked in a 5k oneshot. very few narratives of trauma and recovery actually fit the ones put forward by popular children's media and romance novels -- which are the ones I most see replicated in fandom spaces, because they provide the clearest narrative and easiest catharsis, and so they're easy and soothing to reach for.

that's not necessarily a bad thing! i am not immune to goopy romance tropes. i am not immune to teary catharsis. not every fic has to grapple with ugly realities. but there's a problem when these narratives become predominant, when people think they're accurate and realistic depictions of trauma, when the truth of trauma is unpleasant and uncomfortable, and doesn't fit any single narrative, let alone one of comforting catharsis

[chitinleg]

got him off-balance!

[chotachica]

Favorite part of The Dead Boy Detectives for sure is Edwin pulling literally every single age appropriate male character he interacted with. The absolute cunt ever

[clockwayswrites]

Under Window and Wing

Part 1

Nightwing shook his head, purposefully scattering his thoughts. They wouldn’t do him any good, even here.

He ran his fingers over the petals of flowers and green of leaves as he walked, wishing he could feel them. But as much as the roof was part of Danny’s sanctuary, it was still a roof and exposed to the elements and dangers.

“Are you going to stay out here molesting my plants, or actually come inside?”

Nightwing looked up from the frilly pink flower he had been running his fingertips over. Back lit by the light of the small roof access stood Danny. His hands were tucked casually in the pockets of the loose lounge pants that he always seemed to be wearing. Nightwing doubted Danny owned a single pair of jeans, but he supposed there would be no need, not with Danny never leaving the building.

“I don’t know. I think the flower is really into it. It might be rude to stop now.”

“Leave my peony alone, bird boy, and get in here,” Danny said, an amused laugh underlying his words.

He leaned back against the door, making room for Nightwing to enter, but only if he brushed against Danny to do so. Not that Nightwing had any issue with that, being close to Danny was the whole point of being there on the roof.

His fingers lingered on the flower (peony, apparently) as he started towards Danny.

Moth to a flame.

[voiddaisy]

every time i consume new nightwing media a year is taken off of my life. why is he so tragic? has he sought out a psychiatrist? therapy? maybe some ketamine? does he need a dog? i can bark.

[brokendoor16]

Okay. So I think people have talked a LOT (rightfully) about Charles being the only one to keep it together after Niko’s death and now it’s clearly a trauma response. BUT I would just like to mention the AWFUL impact that scene probably had on him. I mean, Charles ‘I’m nothing like my dad, I’d die before I hurt my friends’ Rowland having to PHYSICALLY drag his best friend/love of his afterlife off of Niko’s body as Edwin is LITERALLY sobbing and shaking his head frantically. Like. That could NOT have been good for his already-permanent terror of being a bad person. Anyways. Someone needs to give Charles a hug. That’s all.