#my therapist’s take is that this has been a small trauma and that I’m basically deprogramming from a cult

[charbies]

the past several months but especially this week have felt like escaping the freaking mafia

I talked about it in therapy; the closest way I could describe my work culture is that when I’m there, I feel like the anxious “straight man” human actor in a muppet movie and not in a fun way

[chaosduckies]

Friends In Small Places (Chapter 5)

It’s a short one this time, (At least I think it’s short-) but this is *technically* my contribution to Hug a Giant Day! (MADE IT WITH TWO HOURS TO SPARE HAHA) I hope you guys enjoy! No edits we post it like there’s no tomorrow >:3

Word Count: 2.5k

CW: Slight trauma (Barely mentioned)

It’s been about a week now. I had moved back into my dorm, I haven’t had any contact with Cas at all, which made me extremely worried. Then again, I don’t think he’d really like to see me like this. I mean, he was the one to break my leg. It wasn’t as bad as it has seemed though. I just had to stay in a cast. For a couple months. 

To be honest that wasn’t really the worst part about it. Everyone had heard the big news. “Shifter Attacks Company, Placed in Custody” And that was not at all what happened. No one was hurt except for me. And I was glad it stayed that way. But that never would have happened in the first place if they hadn’t lied to Cas about being able to see his family. He hadn’t attacked, he was just upset that he had been lied to. I was just happy they didn’t… do what they do to shifters who don’t listen. 

I sighed, sitting in my dorm room with my laptop out in front of me and my leg elevated on a plastic chair. They said it would help with the healing process, and I really wanted it to heal already. I had tried to make a visiting appointment with Cas, but they had refused to let me in. The doctors there had told me he isn’t allowed to see anyone until the company concludes that he’s harmless. I knew they still wouldn’t let him go, but I don’t find it fair at all. The one thing that did stay in my mind was that they would text or call me if I’m able to go see him. So now I waited anxiously almost everyday for the past week waiting for a phone call. 

Ryan and Chelsey had checked up on me almost everyday. They had asked what really happened and I told them, and apparently they were on my side. Ryan had told me the girl that he was paired up with, Haylee I think, was afraid of going to the company alone so Ryan always goes with her. Chelsey was a little confused at first but believed me. So now we’re basically questioning what the company really does to shifters. We’re they not allowed to say anything to their therapists about it? Or are they in on it too? We had no idea, only that something was desperately wrong with the system. 

My phone had started ringing, an unknown caller. I had thought it was just one of those scam calls, but then I remembered I was expecting a call from the hospital that had Cas in custody. I answered, keeping a calm composure. 

“Hello?” 

“Is this Liam Rover?” A woman’s voice was on the other hand. She sounded sweet, but there was just something else I couldn’t hint at. 

“Yes ma’am.” My heart nearly skipped a beat, stumbling around my room and grabbing a few things, shoving them into a small bag. 

“Casper is ready to see you now. You may come by for a visit.” It took my brain a while to think of a calm response. I have no idea why I was so excited to see Cas, but I just needed to make sure he was okay. The guilt was eating at me already. I should’ve tried harder. But I didn’t. 

“Th-thank you. I’ll be there in a little… if you wouldn’t mind telling Cas that?” My hand hesitated on the door handle, standing in an awkward position because of my crutches. I would at least like him to know I was coming beforehand. What if he didn’t want to see me? I did just let them take him over there without so much as a complaint. Wouldn’t he want to see his family before me anyways? Or were they still not letting him see them? The thing about his little brother stuck to me like glue. I have no idea what happened before I met Cas, but it was just… sad. 

I waited a while for a response, I guess she left to go tell him? I sighed quietly, the anxiety eating away at my chest. What if he didn’t want to see me? What would that mean for me? Would the company do something bad to Cas? No, they wouldn’t do anything. Not without an actual reason anyways. Cas hasn’t done anything wrong as far as I was concerned. 

“Cas wishes to tell you that he can’t wait.” She made her voice sound a little sweeter, and I could only hope I wouldn’t find him in a worse situation than a week ago. Maybe I could convince the people there to let him see his family? Or at least his little brother. They seemed attached to each other. 

“Oh well thank you.” I smiled in relief, opening my door and slowly making my way down the empty hall. I shoved my phone in my pocket when I stepped into the elevator, already excited to see Cas. We had lived together for a while, of course I wouldn’t want anything to happen to him. 

——————

When I had arrived at the hospital, it seemed as if all eyes were on me, painfully stabbing me in the back. I still continued to the front desk though, where a woman wearing reading glasses was reading out some kind of appointment to the person in front of me. When it was my turn, she looked shocked for a second, her eyes darting to the crutches and then back to the paper in front of her with a list of dates and times. 

“Liam?” She eyed me, giving an unsure face as she looked at the crutches. I nodded my head, biting my bottom lip. Why were they so focused on the crutches? I just broke my leg. Heck, it barely even hurt thanks to the adrenaline and going into shock. Except that I would be stuck like this for however long. 

“If you would follow me please?” She stepped out of the little office, opening up a door that led to a huge hallway that I was guessing led to all of the patients’ rooms. The further we had walked, the larger the hallways stretched upward, to where I couldn’t even being to dream of touching the ceiling. That made me wonder how it felt to be that tall. To see everything so small and microscopic. How does that make Cas feel? 

“If you wouldn’t mind me asking, why do you want to see someone who’s… partially handicapped you?” She put it the most respectful way she could, but it still hurt. I shrugged my shoulders, “Cause I know he didn’t mean it. Cas is actually really nice once you get over the fear, so um, I’d just like to see how he’s doing.” She looked at me, a little shocked, but otherwise opened the door where Cas was supposedly held in. From what I’ve heard they aren’t allowed to talk to the other patients in this hospital. I had no idea why, but it must’ve been lonely for him all this time. 

I slowly walked in, finding him slouched up against the wall, sitting on a pillow and reading a book. The door behind me silently closed as I stood in place, my heart falling. Cas looks physically fine. There weren’t any scars or marks on him, but I could tell something was wrong. The slight bags under his eyes, the way he didn’t have the same small smile he had always tried to keep on while he was with me. 

His eyes darted to the door, eyes setting on me for a while before he sucked in a shaky breath, “H-hi.” His voice slightly cracked, like he wanted to do something but stopped himself. Cas placed the book down slowly and lightly, studying my tiny figure, and cringing away when he saw my leg. I smiled up at him, “I’m fine. It’ll heal.” I kicked it out slowly to make sure that I don’t mess up the healing process or the cast around it. 

“Lo siento. No sé lo que estaba haciendo o-o pensando-“(*Translation: I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was doing or-or thinking*) He began mumbling on, taking a few short deep breaths afterward. He’s sorry about what? I really should have paid attention to those classes in high school… 

“I-I don’t know spanish, but you don’t have to be sorry about anything. This would’ve never happen if they’d just let your family in.” I sighed, slowly getting closer as he backed away. My heart fell. Back to square one huh? I wasn’t afraid of Cas. I knew he didn’t mean anything that had happened that day. As much as I had feared him before we had met, I don’t anymore. At least not as much. I can see why his parents really wanted to see him. I wondered how the shifting even became a problem in the first place. 

“S-sorry. I-I don’t think it’s a good idea to… get closer.” He pressed his back further in the wall, getting as far away from me as possible without making such a huge move. I stopped for a second before stumbling over again. I’m still entirely used to getting around with crutches. 

As soon as I reached his hand, he had stopped moving entirely, hand clenched in a fist. I couldn’t exactly climb up his arm. I had a broken leg and he wasn’t wearing a long-sleeve like he’s usually was. I sighed, “Cas, I-I’m not mad at you. I’m not even scared right now. I came because I wanted to see you. So could you help me out down here?” I laughed at the end, watching him think about this decision before carefully opening up his hand and helping me on without jostling my leg. I was able to fit easily in the dip of his palm without being anywhere near the edge to see the devastating fall under me, but he still used his other hand to offer some sort of extra protection. I found it sweet, but also sad since he doesn’t trust himself anymore. I didn’t how he felt about it, nor how he looks like he’s basically given up on everything. 

“How are things?” I asked, getting into a comfortable sitting position. Kind of hard when a quarter of your body was covered in plexiglass. It’s not exactly a comfortable thing to be covered with. Especially since I’m not allowed to take it off until I was told so. 

“Lonely. Quiet. They had recently told me that I was allowed to see certain people for now. Doctors, the nurse that helps me out with some things, you.” He smiled slightly, but not for long. 

“Did… Did you want to see me?” I sadly asked. His eyes widened, “Of course! You have no idea how lonely it gets over here, and I kind of missed having someone around.” Something behind his voice tells me that there was something else, but I don’t want to over-step my boundaries right now. Just take things slow. I struggled once again to find a comfortable position, groaning when I was just making it even worse by moving the splint attached to it. 

Cas pointed to his shoulder, taking a guess at what was going on. I nodded my head, being slowly brought to his shoulder, seeing him lean his head against the wall behind him and side-eyeing me as soon as I had finally figured out a comfortable position where the stupid glass wasn’t irritating my skin. 

“How’d you know?” I asked, completely caught off guard by the answer. 

“Um, when My brother and I were younger I would have these growth spurts at night… and since we slept in the same room, you can imagine how many times I messed up-“ He bit the side of his cheek, staring blankly at the ceiling above him, “He still liked being with me though, and he figured it out himself.” He pointed back to his shoulder, a sad look on his face. 

So he would accidentally hurt his younger brother? That wasn’t on him at all. 

“Sorry for asking.” I grabbed a fistful of the cloth under me. I might have brought up a sensitive subject, but for some reason it seemed like Cas enjoyed talking about it. 

“It’s fine. There were some good times too. I think Sam is… nine now? Maybe eight? When he was younger he always wanted to be with me. He really likes climbing, so I pretty much gave him the perfect practice. Sometimes he’d even sleep on me when he was exhausted. We had fun.” He smiled, immediately changing into a sad frown as he stared at his hands. I scooted closer to his neck, not knowing whether I’d regret this later, or learn to love it. For some reason I think Cas just needed a hug, which I was happy to give. 

I wrapped my arms around his neck as much as I could, not covering much as I felt him tense up. He tried to see me, but couldn’t. “Sounds like you two are great siblings.” I laughed, about to pull away before he pressed his finger gently against my back, offering a hug back. 

“S-sorry, is this okay?” He pulled away a little before I told him yes. Yeah. He needed this. 

“Y-yeah. We never argued and our parents were always there for us when they could be. Even after they had found out I was a shifter they never saw me as…” He stared at the ground, moving his finger away to let me get back in my spot. They never saw him as a threat. I mean they were his parents. Why would they? They probably did everything they could to help Cas out. 

I patted his shoulder, but I he didn’t feel it. Not surprising If I were being honest. I decided to change the subject since Cas seemed on edge talking about all this, but at the same time… relieved?

“Have you eaten anything?” I asked. He side-eyed me, biting the side of his cheek again while shaking his head slowly, “Not today, no. It’s fine though. I’m not really hungry right now.” 

I tried reading his expressions, seeing that he really wasn’t lying to me. But still, it would be a good idea to at least eat something. I don’t think it’s healthy to just not eat at all. Not like Cas would change his mind though. It’s almost like he was worried about something else. 

“You mentioned not knowing spanish?” Cas forced out a small laugh in hopes of enlightening the mood. It actually kind of did as I laughed with him, “Yeah, I never really paid attention in class.” Cas gave the best smile he could manage. 

“I can help with that if you want. I kind of grew up knowing it.” 

“If you really want to.” We both laughed like we did before all of this happened. It’s good to know I can repair things with him. Now I’d just have to see if I can convince the nurses to let him at least see his brother. It would be a nice present for him. 

——————

Thank you for reading! I know this chapter was a bit short but today has been chaotic for me (personal reasons-) but I hope you enjoy either way!

Taglist: @da3dm @smolboiremy (If you would like to be added leave a note or dm me! :D)

[konigsblog]

small question! hope this doesn’t come off as offensive! but, i have a hard time understanding non-con/dub-con. for some reason, this has been on my mind for a few days and for some reason it isn’t going away 😭

so, basically what i’m saying is: “why do people get mad when you write apparently “horrible things” when it’s fan fiction?” aswell as: “what’s the difference between reality and fiction?” because i have a hard time with that too :’)!

cw; RANT

thank you for asking politely, my love !! i may not be the best person to ask, as my opinion isn't that non-con is horrible, but here's my take on it. 🫂💗

fiction and reality :

when i say the difference between reality and fiction, i mean that my work isn't hurting any real human being, as i put appropriate triggers on my work. there's no real person actually getting raped when i write non-con. in reality, there are real people getting raped everyday, people who are actually hurt. they need to focus on the real life SA victims rather than what people headcannon a fictional character to be. i think the issue is, is that the COD fandom has become sensitive. they don't like when someone's headcannon doesn't align with theirs, but that's the whole point about headcannons; they're not all going to be the same. no real person is getting hurt by my work, as the characters are fictional people, and it's not real, it's not actually happening.

fiction is fake, reality is real. there are no real people getting raped or raping others, we put warnings so people don't get triggered at the sound of it though. some people refuse to listen to the triggers, reading it anyways and getting annoyed because they've triggered themselves purposely. it's not my responsibility to cater to everyone's needs, i can't tell you what to read or write, that's not my responsibility. it's your responsibility to be in charge of the media you consume, if you're unable to do so, then get off the internet.

why people get offended :

people get offended that i write about rape because they don't like it, really. i understand, completely, 100%, rape is a triggering and a sensitive topic to talk about, it will make someone uncomfortable. but that's the whole reason we have trigger warnings on our posts; no one is forced to read something they don't want to read, we're giving them warning prior so they don't get triggered or offended. other times, people complain it's harmful to SA victims, but again, they're not forced to read non-con posts, it's 100% the reader's choice to read it.

and i do want to point out, that the people claiming this harms SA victims, don't actually care about ALL SA victims. i mean, these are the same people who claim to support all SA victims, but the second someone uses non-con as a coping mechanism, they think they're ‘disgusting’, or ‘horrible’. the second someone's coping mechanism involves reading non-con, they go badshit crazy. and they don't think about the impact and how HURTFUL what THEY'RE saying is. me writing non-con isn't harming SA victims as i'm not forcing any victim to read it, but telling a SA victim they're ‘disgusting’ for their coping mechanism IS HURTFUL. reading non-con is a coping mechanism THERAPISTS have recommend and said it's a healthy way to deal with trauma (as they would have control over the situation, unlike before), it's ridiculous to see people whining over people having different coping mechanisms, all while claiming they support all SA victims.

you can't say you support all SA victims while claiming some are disgusting for having a different coping mechanism. you either care for all, or you don't at all.

[lemonmaid]

Yea “I’m not okay” felt like a punch to the gut let mama suguru have his miracle baby please he has enough trauma 🙏😭😪☝🏼

I was NOT in a good headspace for that, I almost ended with Suguru getting a lobotomy. Honestly, I wouldn't mind written a small wip for the non-canon ending for "I am Not okay."

It will be okay

Warnings: male pregnancy, omegaverse, angst, family law/divorce court

A year ago today, Suguru had his breakdown.

A year ago today Suguru and Satoru had a fight, which led them where they are today. Separated but coparenting.

Suguru learned a lot in a year.

Like how it wasn't his fault for the accident, therapy helped him with that.

And it wasn't his fault that he couldn't have a baby. It was Satoru's. Four months after separating, Suguru finally found the courage to go to an OBGYN. He learned that he was fertile, so when he spoke to Satoru while at pick-up. He learned that Satoru had a vasectomy and had been lying to him for y e a r s.

Suguru filed for divorce/bond breaking, but Satoru refused to sign the papers, which led to a long court case of Satoru saying that "Suguru is mentally unwell blah blah blah". Suguru pledged to never ever forgive Satoru for the gaslighting, even if Satoru swears he never had ill intention. The damage is done. His omega literally can not stand the scent Satoru leaves on the kids.

'This is bullshit' .

Suguru was waiting for Satoru at their agreed pick-up spot; trying to keep four pups busy while they wait for their sire to come get them.

"Mom, I don't wanna go" Nanako mumbled.

Suguru had Megumi laying on his chest, scentinh the pup before he leaves, "I know sweatie, it's just for the weekend remember? Then you'll be home Monday. Why don't you go play on the playground?"

Mimiko picked at her fingers, "Dammy, why can't you come home with us?".

Suguru took a deep breath, "Because that's Daddy's home, mommas home is over here now".

Megumi whined, pushing his face deeper into Suguru’s scent gland.

"Hey pups!".

All three pups whined and groaned before latching to Suguru’s side.

"Where's Tsumiki?" Satoru asked.

"She wanted to sleepover at her friends this weekend".

Satoru hummed, "wow already breaking custody agreement-".

Suguru felt his heart dropped, "you know damn well-".

Satoru "hey hey now, not in front of the pups. Anyways, let's go everyone!".

Satoru tried to pull Megumi away from Suguru’s hold. Megumi refused to budge, holding a tight grip on Suguru.

"No!".

Suguru tried to pull Megumi away, "now megs-".

"No! No! No!". Megumi was crying, his grip was locked on Suguru.

"Megs you have to go to your sires-".

"No!".

Satoru huffed, "wow thanks Suguru, I wonder where he learned this now".

Suguru looked at Satoru with wide eyes, "Satoru stop it right now".

☆

"I feel awful".

The sound of the clock ticking and Suguru panicked mumbling was in the room.

"Do you understand why you feel awful?".

Court mandated therapist.

Suguru's lawyer said it would look good on his side to show "improvement" to his mental health and that he was "fit to raise children".

"Gosh, Uraume, you should've seen the way he looked at me when Satoru finally grabbed him. Betrayed... how can he... Jesus... he was already abandoned by his original dam and sire and for Satoru to take him away from my arms... I makes me sick".

Uraume hummed, "you do care about them".

Suguru scoffed, "why wouldn't I? I'm their mother or dam.... they're mine..".

Uraume shuffled to their desk, "I ment to grab this last session". Slipping a paper to Suguru’s chair.

"A flyer to a speed mating? Uraume I'm not-".

"I know. But there will be a lot of single parents.... a lot of them just go for a basic support group aspect, not the dating or mating part".

☆

'This is ridiculous'

Suguru standard in front of a run-down jazz club, or what remains of said structure.

"I think it would be good for you to make connections to those who have been in your shoes, family law is.... a bitch if you'd say".

Suguru rolled his eyes, recounting Uraume's "words of thought". Sighing, Suguru made the decision to walk inside.

Surprisingly, there were a lot of people, soft jazz music was playing in the background, the lights were dimmed. In the front of the door was a table with a name tags, a scent patch and an option red or green wrist bracelet.

A sign that red, 'Red for not looking for a relationship. Green for looking for a relationship'. Suguru could almost smile at the courteous display.

Suguru walked around the small club, grabbing a champagne glass before sitting at a table and watching everyone mingle.

"Do you come here often?".

Suguru's eye widen, the last person he expected to see at speeding mating night, "Nice to see you Sukuna, how's Yuuji?".

Sukuna rolled his eyes, "the little shit can not stop talking about megumi and the sleepover he had the other night".

Suguru smiled, "Well I hope he had a great time".

"You were there?" Sukuna adjusted himself in his seat and pulled out the menu from the corner of the table.

"No. Me and- well, I am trying to separate from Gojo".

Sukuna huffed, "If I knew that I wouldn't have sent Yuuji over there, kinda don't trust pups without a dam or an omega in the house." Snaping his hand a waiter, bringing attention towards the table.

"Do you want anything?"

Suguru hummed, "nothing sweet".

Sukuna smirked, "gotcha babe".

Suguru smiled, taking a sip from his champagne glass, "I would have never thought you'd be the type for a speed mating."

Sukuna smirked before lifting up his wrist, showing the red bracelet, "I come for the support group of it babe".

Suguru smiled, lifting up his wrist, "I guess we had the same idea".

"I guess we did."

The night was going smoothly. Nothing too outrageous that stood out, just two adults enjoying a night of drinking. After the event was done, Sukuna decided to walk Suguru home

Sukuna laughed, "Wow, it sounds like the girls were hard work".

"No kidding, when they first started talking, I swear their first word was 'mine'. Trying to get those two to share made it seem like mission impossible".

Sukuna hummed, "it sounds like you really love those kids".

Suguru smiled at Sukuna before letting out a relaxed sigh, "Yeah.. they are mine".

There was a good quiet pause, not awkward, but quiet, before Sukuna would interrupt the moment, "Can I ask why you and Gojo-".

Suguru rolled his eyes before taking a sip of his drink, "fucker made me believe I couldn't have kids, when in reality, he got a vasectomy without telling anyone".

Sukuna stopped his tracks, mouth agaped, "You're kidding."

"Nope, wish I was".

Now, there was an awkward pause, but instead, it was with a small tone of aggression or disbelief in a way.

"I would offer to be a sperm donor-" Sukuna joked to lighten up the mood.

Suguru laughed before shoving the male.

"But! At least I'm masculine enough to admit that I got my knot tied as soon as possible." Sukuna stopped, "I'm sorry, you didn't deserve that."

"I know, now if that fucker could sign the papers to legally break the bond I could finally feel... free.. in a way. Not in a way to say Gojo was abusive-".

Sukuna stopped the both of them before resting his hands on Suguru’s shoulders, "No, it's fine, I understand."

Suguru raised an eyebrow, "Sukuna, you may be intoxicated, but why are you... being..".

"You remind me a lot of my dam." He quickly stated.

Maybe that's all Suguru needed to hear.

When they arrived at Suguru’s place, Suguru made the decision to let a tipsy Sukuna stay over until the morning.

Sukuna watched as Suguru pulled out the mattress from the couch, grabbing a clean liner and blankets for the alpha.

"Do you have a lawyer?".

"Yeah-"

"A good one? What's the deal?"

Suguru stopped and looked at Sukuna before rubbing his forehead as a stress response, "The only way Gojo is going to break the bond, which he knows I won't understand the circumstances given, I break the bond but that means no custody of any of the pups, no contact. Intensionally, his side is trying to paint me as a "bad dam" for a miscommunication."

Sukauna thought for a moment before pulling out his phone.

"What are you doing".

"Calling my sire's family lawyer. Sounds like classic defamation. "

"Sukuna you don't have to-".

"I can, and I will."

"Why?".

Sukuna took a deep breath, "You really remind me a lot of my Dam."

A/N

04/03 fuck it we making it a series.

Probably one last part which I will continue when I get back from vacation, I have so many drafts.

I can't decide if I want this to include a reader or not, whether it be child reader! Or Suguru just ends up with reader. But also accidentally leaned on Suguru x Sukuna. Accidental, ran out of people.

Ending was kinda rushed that's my bad. Let me know what yall think.

[disillusioneddanny]

Eloped in Space Part 6

Read part 5 here 

The days after Danny had moved into the manor had been strange to say the least. Dick couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that the man who had become like a father to him had turned into some love drunk dork. 

They were still slightly in their puppy love stage but Danny had managed to keep Bruce’s hands off of him long enough for Danny to decide that he was going to bond with each one of Bruce’s kids. He had apparently decided that the first one to do this was with Dick. Danny and Bruce had been back on Earth for about a month now as Danny settled into living in the manor and getting used to how everything ran. According to Damian, Duke, and Tim it was an interesting adjustment but they all seemed to enjoy having the man there.

“So,” Danny said, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them. They were currently at some random diner in Bludhaven, Danny insisting that he could come to Dick to see him. Something about making a point to make an effort in this familial relationship. He rested his elbows on the table and stared at Dick with those blue eyes that looked as though they had seen their fair share of trauma in the world and refused to let it get him down. “Tell me about your relationship with Bruce. Is he good to you? He’s not shitty or anything? You get plenty of love and affection from him?”

“Uh…no?” Dick said slowly, furrowing his brows. “Bruce is the most emotionally constipated person I know. I think you’re the only person I’ve ever seen him act like that with anyone before.”

Danny made a face and nodded. “I see. Well, just so you know, Bruce will be starting therapy next week. He will be going three times a week until his therapist decides he can go less. He’s also going to be starting some medicine to help with his depression,” Danny said with a small smile, tiredness shone in his eyes. 

“H-how did you get him to agree to that?” Dick asked, eyes wide in shock. Bruce? In therapy? What the actual fuck? What had Danny done to the man?

The Ghost King simply shrugged his shoulders. “My sister was a psychiatrist and took mental health very seriously. I myself see a therapist twice a month. It’s nice to have someone to talk to about all of the craziness that can happen in the world and in our existences. I told Bruce that if he wanted this relationship between the two of us to work he would need to be in some form of therapy. Then last week he met my sister and Jazz basically made him agree to meeting with her three times a week.”

“Wait, your sister? I thought you were like some immortal being, I didn’t realize you had a living family?” Dick asked, looking at the man who had declared himself his stepfather in confusion.

Danny grinned. “Yeah, Jazz died like two hundred years ago or something like that. She’s a ghost in my realm. Our parents both moved on, as did my friends that I grew up with. But Jazz decided that she had to be a pain in my life for eternity. Like I said, when she was alive she was a psychiatrist. And she’s insisting that she works with Bruce to make sure she’s okay.”

“Isn’t it like a breach of trust or something since she’s your sister?” Dick questioned, taking a sip of his soda. 

At this his stepfather’s face fell in annoyance. “Trust me, Jazz is a pain in the ass. She would never break Bruce’s trust and if anything she’ll just tell him anything he wants to know about my childhood or something. But, he’s going to be getting therapy and Jazz is going to start working on that emotional constipation ASAP.”

Dick smiled at the man. “Danny, you’re an amazing step dad. I can’t believe you got Bruce into therapy. Alfred has been trying to convince him since the guy was eight and nothing worked.”

Danny gave him a rueful smile and took a bite of his burger. “I love Bruce a lot, Dick. I’m going to make sure he’s taken care of, whether he likes it or not. I have been around for a very long time, Bruce is the first person I’ve ever loved like this. And because of that, I’m going to make sure he’s okay and isn’t hurting. Under that emotional constipation is a man who loves his family more than anything in this world. The entire time we were on that mission together, all he could talk about was how proud of you guys he was and how much he loved you all. It was very sweet.”

“How’d you do it? How’d you get past it?” Dick asked, looking at the man like he was his own personal hero. At this point he pretty much was. 

Danny just gave him a secretive smile, eyes shining. “I have my ways to get under people’s skin. I can also read people pretty well and knew just which buttons to push. It also didn’t help that from the moment I met Bruce he just looked at me like he either wanted to fuck me or whisk me away to protect me forever. He also had this look like he wanted to learn all of my secrets which was pretty fun. But we just got to know each other on that mission and the more I opened up about my life and after life the more he was willing to do the same.”

Dick took a bite of his own burger and smiled as he mulled over it. If Danny was able to successfully get Bruce in therapy to work on his problems and get the man to open up more, Dick would probably lose his ever loving mind. He couldn’t believe the changes he was seeing in Bruce but he was excited to see how it would go. 

“I think you’re going to be really good for him, Danny,” Dick said with a small smile. 

Danny beamed at him. “I think he’s going to be really good for me too,” he said quietly.

Read part seven here

@mynameisnotlaura @neverlandingbird @angelheartgamer @connorsbonez @quietlyscared  @kgne-k @namichanth @magificence12  @alinmenttreasure  @phantomskeep @themirrorghost @dragonmoon2995 @numbuh-7-knd @blacksea21090 @blankliferain @avenInfear @rentatsunagi @bytheoldwillowtree @michikoy-yuki @aro-acedumbass @legowerewolf @justwannaseesomebrozawa @starscreamlover @undead-essence @skulld3mort-1fan @random-shit-writing @yinari-uchiha @dragongoblet @lesling123 @ascetic-orange @pastalavistamf @illusionwolfwriter24r8 @drowningroane @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair @daemonlogical @jogjosmowwdkfs @markus209 @fox-sama97 @that-one-goblin @immakittybear @the-legal-shipper @blackstar-gazer @spoopyspoony @mj-arts-n-stuff @cloudminder @ serasvictoria02 @thegatorsgoose @ mnemovoid

[atlanticcanada]

Researchers investigating head trauma in the Canadian military want veterans to 'pledge their brain'

Canadian Forces veteran Dennis Manuge has been thinking a lot about his brain health lately, and the impact of repeated concussive incidents from his time in the military and beyond.

“I had multiple concussions, probably double-digit between military service and athletics,” says Manuge.

He recalls one incident while in forces training, in which we went down on his head hard.

“I didn’t know who anybody was around me, for almost an hour,” he says. “And then I was back to work.”

Best known for leading a successful legal class action against Veterans Affairs over disability payments, Manuge is now in a battle to recover from his military injuries and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

He says it was NHL star Sidney Crosby’s openness about his concussions on the ice that led him to think about the hard knocks he suffered in his own lifetime.

So, when the 53-year-old heard about Project Enlist Canada, which is recruiting veterans to donate their brain tissue to science after death, he signed up.

“The first thing I did was let my wife know, because you never know. When your time's up, your time's up,” he says.

Project Enlist Canada is an awareness initiative working in partnership with concussion and brain researchers to create a better understanding of chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE) - a degeneration of the brain due to repeated head traumas, like those suffered by professional athletes such as football players.

Right now, CTE can only be accurately diagnosed by autopsy, but its symptoms are very similar to PTSD.

“We've got a lot of veterans who are misdiagnosed with PTSD, when in fact, they have a brain injury or also have a brain injury,” says Michael Terry, a Nova Scotia veteran living in Ontario and the project’s outreach coordinator.

“CTE is basically an accumulation of small hits over time, of micro-concussive events, [and] when you look at our service… firing the 84mm recoilless rifle, which is a shoulder-fired heavy weapon, firing the 81mm mortar, you’re right there next to it,” says the infantry veteran. “Even Navy, Air Force, we all take these ‘knocks in the head’ over our career."

“You need to start asking these questions, have you had these head impacts in your life,” says Ryan Carey, Project Enlist Canada’s director of military engagement.

The former CFL player and 14-year CAF veteran is passionate about the effort to create a bank of post-mortem brain tissue from Canadian men and women who served in the military.

“Doctors, therapists, they may not be looking for head injury, [they say] 'Well, you were in Afghanistan so you must have trauma from that,'” he says. “Absolutely, that’s all valid. But understand the amount of head injury that veterans face during their careers, not only in combat, on ranges, in ships, in planes, there’s a lot of these things that happen in training as well.”

For Carey, it’s about helping veterans now, but also about helping with CTE prevention for everyone.

“These things are very serious, there’s a movement across all sports… to limit head impacts with young kids, and my emotional response to that is, ‘It’s not happening fast enough.’”

Project Enlist is working in conjunction with the Concussion Legacy Foundation to support researchers at the Boston University CTE Center and the CAMH Brain Health Imaging Centre to investigate the causes and effects of repetitive brain trauma.

At CAMH, Chief Radiochemist Neil Vasdev is leading the effort to enable the diagnosis of CTE in a living patient via brain scan.

“Researching veterans’ brains will give us insights on how to stop the injuries in their tracks and treat them,” says Vasdev.

“I'm hopeful that we will be doing this in the next three to five years. We already have new imaging agents that we plan to advance to human studies this year,” he adds.

If successful, it would be a scientific first.

It would also offer hope, says Terry, to anyone living with the often devastating effects of repeated brain trauma.

“Treatment protocols are going to come from that, reporting protocols are going to come from that, and prevention is going to come from that,” he says. “We’re really trying to hit it from all angles.”

Veterans who want to donate their brain tissue after their passing can fill out of a form on Project Enlist Canada's website.

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/105LSei

[beautifulbuckys]

Can’t Stay Away (3)

PART 2

George Weasley x Reader

George shoved a mouthful of egg into his mouth. “Looks like we’ll be seeing more of each other, Potter.” The small red crest sitting on the breast of George’s robes complimented the ginger hair that sat on his head. People liked to tease the Weasleys. Many joked they didn’t make it into Gryffindor for their bravery. Rather, their genetic carrot tops.

I pressed my lips together tightly. “I guess so.”

Warnings: Angry/protective brother Harry, some swearing, cheeky George!!!

The week before school began was nothing but stressful. Molly and Arthur found themselves running around the Burrow, Hogsmede, and Diagon Ally almost daily. Charlie and Bill visited for a few days to wish everyone a successful school year. I’d found myself quite on edge. Every year, without fail, something terrible happened to Harry. I’d chosen to speak to him about it 2 days after we all went school shopping.

“Harry,” I sighed. Both of us were early risers. Ginny always joked we rose with the sun, usually complaining about it with her pillow over her face. Harry had noted Ron complained too, but he never took Ron seriously due to the dry drool that crusted on the corner of his mouth. “Listen. We’ve been through a lot. You’ve been through a lot. I know lately, things have been hectic. The Burrow is basically our home, the Weasleys are the closest we have to family. Something horrible happens to you every school year. I just want to let you know I’m here for you. I really want to provide the support you need,” I shared over the dining table. We sat and drank tea together once we woke up. We considered it our ‘sibling bonding’ time. 

Harry rubbed his sleep-ridden eyes. “Oh, um, yeah. I know you’re here for me. I also know you’re trying really hard. I notice how late you stay up with Ron and I so I can get high marks. You stay outside in the grueling sun to make sure you can help Molly put food on the table. I hope you know I notice all the work you put in to making me feel normal,” 

I smiled. It felt good to be recognized. 

“I really appreciate that, Harry. While we’re on the topic,” I spent a solid 10 minutes pitching therapy towards Harry. There was some initial resistance on this end. He feared trying to mask his problems to a muggle therapist. However, I had done some research and discovered wizard councilors Harry could speak to. Once I disclosed that to my brother, he has on board. I promised I’d iron out the details with Dumbledore when we returned back to Hogwarts. 

The conversation covered Harry’s traumas, triggers, and fears in the future. He smiled as we discussed his future, and how I want to set him up for success physically as well as emotionally. The smile quickly faded from his pale face when he watched me lift my mug to take a sip of the tea I had prepared. 

“What’s that?”

I furrowed my brow. “What’s what?” Harry pointed to the small purple and brown ring that wrapped around my wrist. “Oh, that? Nothing. Doesn’t even hurt!” I exclaimed. To further prove my point, I pushed my finger into it with my other hand. Okay, maybe that was a lie, as I winced slightly when the pressure found its placement. Harry didn’t see George and I exchange in the store like Ron did. George and I pretended nothing happened. We silently agreed to just move on. 

“Who did that?” Harry’s face was completely serious. 

“Who did what?” A small red-headed figure found themselves in the kitchen. It was Ron. Oddly enough, Ron was a morning person. He was usually the first to wake up after Harry and me. He claimed he loved listening to the birds' chirp from the woods in the morning. Ron called it his natural alarm clock. 

“That.” Harry’s thin finger pointed at my wrist. Well, if Ron told the truth I’d be deep in shit trying to explain why George was rough with me. And not in the fun way. 

Ron walked up closer to the table to examine. He paused, glancing at my wrist for a moment. Before speaking, “Oh. That was George. She and I were talking and George got kinda mad. Bugger dragged her out of the book store by her wrist. I could tell he had a strong grip, her skin was turning a yellowy-wite because of it,” Harry whipped his head back towards me, as he was looking at Ron while he recalled the happenings of the other day. 

“That bloody fucke-” Harry started. 

Thus, for the past week, my brother has been giving George Weasley the side eye and everyone was confused. Everyone except for Ron and I. However, I wanted to shake it off. Besides, George and I had that mutual…silent agreement to move on. That’s all I wanted to do. Move on. Sure. 

The first two days of school at Hogwarts were chaotic. A whopping 126 new kids were sorted into Gryffindor. All the Weasleys’ lost their minds, siting it as a new record since my class. However this new influx of prepubecent wizards caused for a lot of drama. People were already dating, fueding, friending, and many other verbs ending in -ing that I didn’t want to know about. The large class sizes reflected in the busyness of the Great Hall. Hundreds of first years were running around in their new house robes mingling. If I didn’t know any better, I’d be rolling my eyes. Yet, I remember what it was like. I pictured myself in their places. It felt like yesterday when I met Fred and George during the sorting ceremony. Look at us now!

The third morning was filled with lots of complaining. Ginny’s new dormmates were whiney and in love with Harry. Harry can’t seem to find a moment of peace (per usual). Ron and George insisted that the common room was filled with shoulder-to-shoulder traffic. Fred can’t stand Dionne Hawkins, a Ravenclaw who’d be in his astronomy class. 

Classes. I’d forgotten about classes. The schedules had been passed around the Great Hall during this dining period. Pieces of yellowed parchment were flying through the air. Or students got their schedules the lamer way, handed to them by their head of house. I peered uo above me, to notice the large piece of paper headed straight for my plate of biscuts and bacon. 

“Anythin’ good? I know they been addin’ classmate names to the list,” Ron peeked at Harry’s parchment, speaking while chewing. If we were back at the burrow, Molly would’ve chastized him. Harry and Ron sat shoulder to shoulder, studying the long schedule Harry had received. 

I took the time to eye my classes schedule. Ron was right, classmate names were also listed. That was a bonus, I could see my friends in my classes and coordinate with them. I’d heard this organization tactic was much like what muggle university students do. Arthur had shared that tidbit of information with me last summer. 

Looking closer, you noticed a reoccuring name under the class titles.

Caring for Mythical Beasts? George Weasley was at the bottom of the class member list. Astronomy? Both Fred and George were listen. Defense Against the Dark Arts? Guess who! The younger of the twins was listed there too. Under every single class title sat George’s name. Except for one. Herbology. My favorite class. My personal oasis. 

George shoved a mouthful of egg into his mouth. “Looks like we’ll be seeing more of each other, Potter.” The small red crest sitting on the breast of George’s robes complimented the ginger hair that sat on his head. People liked to tease the Weasleys. Many joked they didn’t make it into Gryffindor for their bravery. Rather, their genetic carrot tops. 

I pressed my lips together tightly. “I guess so.”

It had been hell. Actual hell. If Scotland got any hotter, I would’ve mistaken here for Hell. George Weasley has made my life unbearable. I’m surrounded by his mischievous antics for 7 hours a day with a single break varying through the weekdays. 

George Weasley didn’t his academia career very seriously. He cracked jokes when he was called on. He’s raise his hand when questions were asked and give the most ridiculous answer. My favorite? When he’d test random pranks Fred and him had been working on to get a reaction. A lot of our classmates found him entertaining. He added a bit of color to the black and white days of Hogwarts academics. I can admit, some days I found myself laughing at his ways. Occasionally, they’d be entertaining. Usually though, I’d crack a smile at best. To the surprise of many, I was here to learn. Sure, Hogwarts was fun. Yet it’s school; people needed to realize that. 

I found that not many of my classes housed too many of my friends. I’m lucky I got Fred in astronomy. I couldn’t forget, though, that he had his other half. They acted the same together. Always goofing off; never serious. 

That meant most of the time, I was walking to my classes by myself. Occasionally I’d cross pathes with a friend. It was rare, and only on certain days. Other days I’d see Ron, Harry and their female friend sitting on the steps by the divination classroom. I’d flash them a smile and continue heading on my way. Unfortunately, George seemed to have picked this up. Every once in a while we’d accidentlaly walk side by side when traveling. Then this instance became more frequent. Until…George was walking with me everywhere. 

“You’ve got to stop following me,” I huff one day in a rush to defense against the dark arts. It’d been a particularly shitty day. I attended breakfast late; at which all the food was cold. Then, a fairy had bitten a whole through the bottom left fabric on my robes. The last thing I needed was George Weasley trailing me like a lost kitten.

He smirked smugly. “It’s almost like we’re going to the same class.”

I sighed, shaking my head. I tried to lose him; quicken my pace and trap him in the wave of first years looking for their classes. He just widened his stride, keeping by my side. 

“I don’t understand why you don’t take the classes more seriously. You know this leads up to our future right?” George nods his head. “Good. Just checking. Because it certainly seems you’ve got your head in prank land and not on the ground like it should be.”

He laughed. “Not everything is so serious, ‘ya know.”

“Yes it is, George.”

His smirk twisted itself into a genuine smile. The more I’ve been around him, willingly or not, I’ve noticed small quirks in his appearance. Like how George has a small dimple on the right side of his mouth. That detail is particularly funny, because Fred has an identical dimple on the left. Or how George’s thinly spread freckles also shared an orangey hue. Perhaps one of my favorites is how his eyebrows are always neatly combed. I’ve never seem him actually comb them. However, his eyebrows are never messy. I’m not going to ask, either. It might be one of those fortunate Weasleu genes the family has. Ginny has perfectly white and straight teeth. Percy’s tight coils in his hair that he never needed to tame like Bill. 

“I’m happy to know you’re so concerned, Potter girl.”

“I hate when you call me that,” I mutter, tugging my book bag staps up and over my shoulder. 

George’s smile never falters. “I know you do. That’s why I do it.” He comments as we approach the door to the classroom. A large group of students stood outside, crowding the arched stone doorway. If it were any other time, I’d shove through the crowd to get away from the twin. But today? I actually weren’t hating him as much. Talk about improvement!

“By the way, George,” I turned to face the tall figure that had stopped next to me. “Harry wants to rip your guts out. You bruised my wrist. I’m not mad about it, although it hurt. But he saw. Ron told him what happened. Not the whole story, but the gist. He knows you did it and he’s bloody angry.”

George chuckled. “You Potter group are fiesty. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And for some reason. It made you bubbly to hear those words falling from George’s lips.

[nightcolorz]

Poorly describing my versions of the Gotham rogues:

Joker: “yolo” in its most dangerous form, def is writing a slow burn enemies to loves fic about him and Batman. Gay and homophobic 💯 The other rogues don’t invite him to pride celebrations anymore cause he’ll keep calling people slurs “as a joke”. Him and Edward have longterm beef, like schoolgirl levels of petty drama.

Harley Quinn: would describe herself as a “girlboss” unironically while committing heinous crimes. tweeted “clowns aren’t funny” after breaking up with Joker (ended up causing a huge scandal). The OG “I can fix him” girl. Is sort of the rogues free underground therapist (god knows they need it) cause they can’t get professional help without being sent to Arkham.

Poison Ivy: Breaking News: Cottagecore lesbian commits mass murder cause her plant wilted. She’s what republicans think environmentalists are. Would get in a fist fight with that vegan teacher cause “plants have feelings too”. Has beef with most of the male rogues, supports ‘kill all men’ without realizing it’s a joke (she prefers ‘kill all humans’ but figured she had to downgrade because the Gotham city sirens are humans technically).

Cat Woman: “OH NO! It appears I’ve gotten stuck backwards in the bank vault step-Bat 😏😏😏😏😏😏, looks like I’m not stealing any more diamonds today 😰😩”. Mad respect for Selina, she just wants diamonds and bat dick, no tragic backstory or complex motivations needed. I personally like to headcanon her as wearing a straight up cat costume (ears and a tail like a true furry) cause it’s way funnier to imagine a sophisticated rich woman dressing up as a cat to steal shit than whatever bullshit DCs up to these days. Trans catgirl supremacy 💎👍

Scarecrow: That one guy who gets angry at people because “Halloween costumes are meant to be scary 🤬😡😑😒”. Doesn’t even attempt to express emotions, is the human embodiement of this emoji: 😐. His presence is more jarring than threatening, his intimidation levels are somehow underwhelming and overwhelming at the same time. The other rogues have collectively decided that he’s asexual under no assumption other than that they don’t want to imagine Jonathan having sex. Overtime Jonathan has become basically fearless (he smokes his own fear gas like vape just to feel something). Jonathan and Harley became good friends when they both worked in Arkham, their dynamic is surprisingly wholesome.

The Riddler: Didn’t get hugged enough as a child and is now making it everyone’s problem. Would hold a bank hostage to show Batman his third grade spelling bee medal. Is the only autistic rogue that gets accommodations in Arkham because he won’t stop bugging the guards. FTM trans ofc (his names Edward Nygma for Christ's sake). He ran away from home at seventeen and faked his own death (his deadname is legally dead lmao). Uses the terms “alpha, beta, and omega male” unironically.

Two Face: “Yeah, I mean, I didn’t wanna blow up the orphanage either, but Y’know the coin said-” The other rogues talk to Harvey as if he’s constantly at his breaking point, which is half true. Harv is a stone cold mf, he’s the rock that’s holding Two Face together tbh. Edward calls Harvey and Harv Jekyll and Hyde cause he’s that original. All the rogues have at least a sneaking suspicion that Bruce Wayne is batman and use Harvey as their little primary source (being ex besties and everything), until they find out Selina and Bruce are a thing of course. No matter how much evidence he’s faced with Harvey will never accept Bruce Wayne is batmam, he’s not ready to consider that one of the only positive people in his life has been duking it out with him this whole time.

Penguin: He’s the rest of the rogues chill gay gangster uncle I don’t make the rules. The iceberg lounge is like the Batman villain equivalent of The Central Perk from friends (aka: its their default place to hangout). Oswald always makes a fuss about them not making reservations ahead of them but at this point it’s just performative. Everyone’s 99% sure Oswald and Edward fucked at some point (Edward always makes a show of flustering Oswald when he needs a loan). Ossie always takes care of the others belongings when they’re in Arkham (he has a special place in his heart for Jonathan‘s crows).

The Mad Hatter: I love Jervis lmao he just really likes Alice in Wonderland and that’s a valid ass villain motivation 👍. One of the smartest rogues but doesn’t get enough credit because of how childish he is. He dresses in kids clothes, not just because he wants to but because he’s small af and can’t fit in shit. In public while the rogues are undercover Jervis usually wears a beanie or a baseball cap (he’d get spotted instantly if he wore his usual, but on bad days Jervis can’t bear to be without a hat). Jonathan and Jervis play chess a lot together in Arkham, and frequently engage in intellectual discussion, Edward tends to be a piss baby when Jon encourages him to do the same, he’s not ready to accept the reality that Jervis can match his intelligence.

Killer Croc: Waylon has a surprising amount in common with Jonathan, they share southern solidarity. He doesn’t travel out of the sewer often so the rogues will occasionally come to visit Waylon there (Edward always makes sure to complain loudly about the smell). Will show immense affection and loyalty to anyone who treats him as human (poor guy just needs a friend ☹️).

Mr Freeze: Literally just dead inside, someone give this poor bastard a hug. Victor stands as the most awkward rogue, he‘s sorta like the odd one out. The other rogues don’t interact with him that often because he’s sort of a party pooper. He’s the straight friend on thin ice, haha get it. Mr Freeze is my sisters favorite Batman villain because she thought the ice puns were funny in Batman in Robin, little does she know I’m embarrassing myself on tumblr in her glory.

Music Meister: So many of the Gotham rogues have horrible childhood trauma and Music Meister is just like “people bullied me for being a theater kid 😩😭💔😔”. In all honesty he’s iconic, in my au universe thingy I have him join the dork squad latter on and he sticks out like a sore thumb for a bit. I feel like him and Jervis would really hit it off though (mind control buddies, ha), although Jervis would always get him to sing Alice in Wonderland songs. In Arkham they have him wear a dog collar thingy and zap him when he sings, he gets bullied for that lol. anyways I’m sure I could make more of these, but it’s 2:20 am and my mind went blank. If y’all liked this I could always put more au headcanons out (I have A LOT)

[sandlessdesert]

mxy recovery in yiling au

resident mo xuanyu liker here to give yall more mxy and his found family in yiling.

please check out the other parts first!

PART 1 | PART 2 | ADD. INFO (you are here!)

im not super concrete on the timeline/how things play out, as this is more just driven by the whims of me wanting to see mo xuanyu happy :D. i’d love to hear your ideas on how this comes to be.

as previously stated, wei wuxian and the wens manage to live in relative peace in the burial mounds.

five years after wwx dies in canonverse, a sixteen year old mo xuanyu is removed from the lanling jin sect, and escapes mo manor a few months after his mothers death.

wei wuxian begins teaching mxy safe practices for demonic cultivation given the few times hes tried to demonstrate it for him gave wwx a heart attack and nearly sent both of them to wen qing.

wwx would have preferred to NOT teach him demonic cultivation, but mxy at this point isn’t really used to relationships where he isn’t explicitly being used for something and therefore is trying to be “useful” so he doesn’t get discarded. wwx would prefer to let him have a choice over what that use is than force him to do something.

over time mxy realizes what wwx is doing and that he really just wanted for him to have a means to protect himself. this takes a long time though.

shortly after, a 9 year old wen yuan is a bit jealous that mxy is stealing his xian-gege’s time and being allowed into the demon slaughtering cave when no one else is really allowed to. wwx explains mxy is allowed in because he’s his disciple. a-yuan declares himself wwx’s new disciple on the spot!

 wwx, unable to say no to his a-yuan, wwx takes him in as a “student” aka just letting him run small errands that are safe. (although eventually, wwx does begin teaching him basics of cultivation when he’s old enough)

two years later, (i’m a bit unclear on the canon timeline here so correct me if this doesn’t make sense) xue yang defects from the jin sect through boredom or inconvenience, before he actually kills anyone, eventually seeking out the infamous yiling patriarch. his ability for demonic cultivation is much lower than the canonverse given that no one has been able to raid and sieze wwx’s research post-mortem because he isn’t... well, dead.

some character relationship things under the cut! this got longer than i thought it would fhsdjhf.

as wwx has three students and TECHNICALLY xue yang joined last, actual child wen yuan calls adult xue yang “mei-xiao shidi” and xue yang nearly threw hands with the kid in response. wwx and mxy bribe xy with candy or something to call him “yuan-shixiong” he is 100% doing this to be a little shit because he’s being raised by wwx, not lwj here.

similarly, mxy is “da shixiong” but more often just “yu-ge/yu-gege” according to wen yuan.

the three disciples have been trying to get wwx and lwj together after watching them somehow not get together for literal years and its EXHAUSTING. 

everyone thought maybe a-yuan’s innocent teases of calling lwj nd wwx father and mother would have done something?? to hint at it? but it doesnt work? 

xue yang tries being direct with wwx but wwx clearly doesnt take it to heart. obviously he’s just being rude or playing a prank or something.

mxy is in pain seeing someone as pretty as lwj throw himself at wwx where wwx doesnt even notice meanwhile his own love life is absolutely awful, not really being able to shake the reputation of his past life in the jin sect or his current life where he lives in the burial mounds with the wen remnants.

mxy and wwx work together to create spiritual devices and sell/distribute the safer and more practical inventions to the locals of yiling to make money.

xy and mxy are fiercely loyal to wwx, but do not hesitate to chew him out to wen qing. xue yang will also physically fight him if he’s spouting bullshit and mxy isn’t in the vicinity (both for mxy’s sake and because he would try stopping xy.)

i wanna be clear, while this is a recovery au, wwx and everyone else in the burial mounds are not perfect nor are they therapists. all of them are dealing with their own trauma, wwx in particular can be unstable and explosive from time to time. being in the burial mounds is HARD and they will occasionally unfairly lash out at each other or do the wrong thing. they can never “fix” mxy or his trauma or erase his past abuse. but the point of this au is that despite their issues, despite them sometimes unintentionally hurting their loved ones they are found family and they care about each other deeply. through mutual love and respect and patience he didn’t get before, mxy does get to recover :)

random other things (mostly just wen yuan stuff because he’s my favourite character)

wen yuan is learning the basics of normal cultivation as well as demonic cultivation and is developing a golden core. wei wuxian gifted him suibian since it’s sort of useless to him.

lan wangji visits from time to time to check in and play cleansing for them all. one day he teaches wen yuan how to play it on the xiao when he’s not around (lmao you think they have the ability to maintain a guqin given the circumstance?). everyone in the burial mounds loves when lwj comes around to play since it usually ends up with a small concert of three echoing out of the cave.

[i-lovethatforme]

I would love more dad Peter. Maybe a one shot of Peter struggling a little with taking care of Benji (because he wasn't there when Benji was born and doesn't know much about him yet) and MJ helping him through.

day thirty one take three: it takes two baby, just me and you

“Night, Papa,” Benji whispers, his face slack against Peter's chest. 

"Night, chicken."

Peter lays in his bed with him, though he knows he’s not supposed to, just until he falls asleep. It’s been a year since he came home, basically a full year that MJ let him move back in with them. And it’s been perfect if not one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do.

Because he loves MJ and Benji more than he thought possible, but he missed so much. So it hurts when he doesn't know things. When he can't figure out how to get Benji down from the ceiling and it ends in a screaming match between the two of them until MJ comes home.

And when he picks fights with MJ because he can’t deal with the guilt that he left her to figure out a way to get him down herself, that he wasn’t there to laugh with her about it. Or share in her fears about it. She forgives him most of the time, because she’s the best person he knows and he’s trying. But it seeps into his mind anyway.

And he’s really trying not to let it get to him that he doesn’t know everything - that there are things he can never get back. He can re watch their first Christmas together where MJ is clearly barely keeping it together, but Benji’s smiling the whole time anyway. And he can dream about going back in time to be there for her but he’s already asked Strange three times and he thinks he might be blocked soon. 

But he’s dealing with it better. He had to go through the trauma of the last three years with his therapist and he told MJ as much as she wanted to know which was very little - she just wanted him to tell her if it got too much.

He drapes Benji’s cover over him, smiling about the fact he was here to build his big boy bed and he’ll be here to watch him to go his first day of school and that’s enough. He didn’t get the early days, but it’s enough to have the rest of his life. 

The lights are down and there are candles everywhere when he comes back in the living room, MJ sat on the couch with a smile.

“Are you planning on seducing me?” he whispers, picking up his pace so he can touch her. “Cause let me tell you, it’s already working.”

“Mmmm, that was my master plan while in sweats,” she drawls as she opens her arms for him, pressing his lips against his temple. 

“You’re always perfect, baby,” he replies, pushing her back against the sofa.

“Peter,” she whispers as a warning, though she lets him kiss her anyway. 

“I have a gift for you,” she says, as he presses his lips to her jaw. 

“Ohhh, what is it?” he asks though he makes no move to get off her.

“I spent a really long time on it,” she gasps as he pulls at her lip.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he moves back, sitting on the couch ready for whatever halloween candy she found him at the store. 

She moves to pull a gift bag from behind the sofa. It’s matte red and feels nice under his fingertips and he thinks she’s the cutest thing alive that she went to all this effort for sweets but he’ll humour her anyway. 

But then he moves past the tissue paper, and his hand falls on something soft.

"What is it?" he asks, his voice low as he looks up at her. She's smiling and she’s beautiful and her eyes are glistening and his heart is thumping with the hope of something he's never dared to dream about.

"Em," he whispers, pulling out the small cotton package. He knows what it is now, even though it's folded in two.

"What do you say?" she laughs, as he unfolds the babygrow. It's not the same as the one they have for Benji. This one is white and it has a single Spider-Man logo in the middle. And it's perfect.

"Wanna have another baby with me?"

"Yes," he chokes out. "Yeah, I really do."

"Cool," she replies, a shrug of her shoulders all nonchalant like they're not both flooding the apartment with tears.

"Cool," he sniffs, placing the babygrow and the bag on the coffee table. Then he turns to face her and the happiness pouring out of her is so evident on her face and in the way her hands stroke along her thighs that can't do anything but throw himself at her.

"I love you, I love you so much," he says as he squeezes her too tight. She laughs as he picks her up, his hands under her thighs as she wraps her legs around his waist.

"I love you," she says, kissing him soundly. He spins them around the apartment, filling every corner of their home with the sound of her laughter. Soon they'll talk about whether they should move, whether Benji will hope for a brother or a sister, what they should name them. But for right now, it's just them. All he can see is her, and that's all he ever really needed.

"I can't wait to tell everyone with you," she whispers, her forehead against his.

"Thank you," he says as sincerely as he can.

"For everything. For Benji. For this pumpkin," he says, stroking her stomach. He knows it's going to be scary for her to want to go through pregnancy again, and it'll throw up some arguments he's sure. But God, he can't wait.

"For loving me," he says, laying her down on their bed, his hands either side of her face.

"Anytime, tiger."

[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift part 8 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Summary: It's time to do what's best for you . . . also fuck Kurt

Warnings: physical violence, emotional abuse, brief mention of trauma

W/C: 2.2k

AN: So.... I'll be honest, I was quite sick when I wrote this (and I'm still not 100% but I'm at like 75% which is good enough) but I have a mentality of not editing or revising my work otherwise I embarrass myself and convince myself I'm The Worst(tm), but I hope this makes sense and the pacing is good <3

Spotify

Part 1 Part 9

Frankie was glad to see you finally opening up. Even if that meant tears he couldn’t wipe away, or a hand he couldn’t hold. The last thing he wanted was to put you in a position where you thought the only reason he was helping was to swoop in while you were vulnerable.

You sat next to him in his truck, your eyes were puffy and red from tears that once they started seemed to come in waves of intensity, from a few sniffles to shoulders heaving, gasping for air sobs. Manny sat beside you, holding your hand, which Frankie was grateful for. He was glad to see that you had people that cared about you. When he had messaged Manny that morning, it was more to find out if his suspicions were correct about the ‘friend’ you had talked about while drunk was you.

“You don’t have-“

“We want to,” Manny interjected for the fifth time. It occurred to Frankie that you weren’t used to people wanting to help you. “I’ve been praying that you’ll let me help you.” That made you sob again. You gave another apology, chest heaving as you tried to breathe.

Truthfully, Frankie was also glad that this was an excuse for him to skip talking about his own feelings. His own mind was a muddy mess of flashbacks and night terrors and bouts of anxiety that became so crippling he forgot how to breathe. How well would that have gone down in the little group he now found himself apart of? If he had to guess, about as well as it went down with Portia – pitying looks and urges to see a proper therapist, and a new distance that neither was willing bridge.

Manny answered a call as Frankie drove back. He wasn’t driving anywhere in particular, but when it had become clear you wanted to be anywhere but that bistro, he had suggested the three of you pile into his truck and see where the road took you.

“Mateo, honey, I need to ask you a few things,” Manny said into his phone. Out of the corner of his eye, Frankie saw you lean your head back and squeeze your eyes shut. Frankie wanted to reach out and squeeze your knee, take your hand, do anything to show that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere so long as you wanted him around.

Manny’s voice faded into the background as you turned to look at Frankie. He pulled up at a small nature reserve, which was just an algae slicked pond and a few oak trees surrounded by recently mowed grass. Frankie noticed how bloodshot your eyes were.

“You okay?” he asked, realising it was a stupid question.

“I will be,” you said, your voice hoarse. You cleared your throat with a wince. “I’m not upset . . . I’m just overwhelmed. Like, I’ve been holding this all in for so long that once the lid was opened it was impossible to put back on, and now I’ve just gotta let it all out. Does that sound stupid?”

Frankie shook his head. “Not at all.” You smiled weakly at him.

“Bet this is the worst lunch you’ve ever had,” you said.

“Nah, I think it ranks pretty highly,” Frankie said. “Mainly because of the company, though.” You rolled your eyes and Frankie could see the corners of your mouth twitch in an effort to keep a smile away.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” he said softly.

“What isn’t?” You asked, but before he could answer, Manny interjected.

“I’ve found you a new place,” he said. You shot up, confusion written on your face plainly. Manny smiled the type of smile when someone knows they’ve basically saved the day. “That was my dear friend Mateo on the phone. He is taking his first steps towards being a real estate mogul and recently brought a one bedroom apartment to rent out. And because he is such a dear friend and owes me like, a billion favours, I told him the minimum of what your situation was, and he has told me that he’s willing to rent the place to you for lower than market value. A hundred and twenty a week, including water.”

You’re silent for a few moments, and Frankie watched you carefully.

“When can I move in?” you said finally, and Frankie felt an invisible weight lift off your shoulders. He could only imagine how difficult this would be for you; making decisions that would change how you lived in a matter of hours, basically upending your life.

“He can get the keys to us on Wednesday, he’s just got to replace some fixtures and finish painting some walls,” Manny said. You nodded slowly.

“So, I just need to last till Wednesday,” you said.

“You can stay at my place, if you want.” Frankie said quickly, not exactly comfortable with the idea of you staying with Kurt. You had said he was never physically violent, but Frankie also knew how quickly a man could change when they didn’t get their way.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose,” you said carefully. Frankie nodded.

“Of course, you’re my friend, and friends help each other.” Just friends. Only friends. He wasn’t going to take advantage of you in this state just because he had a stupid crush. He had once had a conversation with a pissed off Eve Miller, who was ranting about the guys she thought were her friends instantly making moves the moment she became single. That had solidified Frankie’s resolve to not make moves on women he was friends with – it wasn’t fair to them or to him.

Before you could answer, your phone was ringing loudly. Your face crumpled as you looked at the contact, and Frankie frowned.

Kurt.

You took a deep breath and hit answer. “Hey! What’s up?” Your light and airy tone was at odds with your sombre expression. “No, I have lunch with Manny on Sunday, remember? You’re home already? But –“

Frankie listened to the angry buzzing coming from your phone, his revulsion growing.

“My phone died – no I just went out with Sara last night, she wanted to go to fight night . . . it’s not that short . . . No I didn’t fuck anyone else, Jesus Christ, Kurt! No! Look, I’ll be home soon, we can talk about this then.” You hung up with a shaking hand, your mouth twisting with effort to contain the tears.

Manny met Frankie’s eye over the top of your bowed head and gave a small nod.

“We’ll come with you to get some of your clothes,” Frankie said. “And anything else you need.”

“You’re really too sweet for this,” you muttered with a hiccup. “I’m sorry for dragging the both of you into my shit.”

“I crawled willingly into it,” Manny said breezily, “which I would only do for about five people in this world.”

The trio remained silent for several minutes, interrupted only but the sound of your occasional hiccups. Frankie reached out and patted your shoulder awkwardly, cringing internally while he did. Inexplicably, you leant into his touch, your damp cheek brushing against the back of his hand.

“Can you drive me home so I can get my stuff?” you asked softly. Frankie nodded and turned on the truck.

~*~

You were a ball of anxiety as Frankie pulled into the complex’s parking lot. Kurt’s car was already in the spot reserved for your apartment, sending you to the verge of a full-blown panic attack. You squeezed your eyes shut and counted to ten, then backwards from ten. Distantly, you felt Manny take hold of one of your hands.

“You’ve got this.” Manny’s voice sounded far away. “Francisco and I are behind you one hundred percent.”

“You’re calling the shots,” Frankie said, touching your arm. His hand was warm and calloused, and you didn’t know why that observation seemed to be at the forefront of your mind, but it was. You opened your eyes and met Frankie’s warm brown ones, suddenly feeling infinitely stronger.

You told them what you wanted to do – for you to go in by yourself and for them to wait outside the door, plug their ears if necessary, only come in if they felt like you were in any actual danger. Frankie’s face darkened at this, but to your relief he didn’t protest your plan.

You felt stronger with the two of them behind you. Every single step towards your apartment door solidified your resolve that this was the right thing, that this relationship hadn’t made you happy, fulfilled, in years. The click of your key in the door felt like one of finality.

Kurt sat on the couch, glaring at you. You left the door open a crack as you walked in, hovering by the dining table. You took him in fully and came to the conclusion that you were no longer attracted to this man at all. His skin was reddened by the sun, pale patches around his light blue eyes. His thin mouth was curled into a sneer.

“Care to explain what the fuck you’ve been doing while I was gone?” he said.

“Not really, no.” You replied. “Here’s the thing, Kurtis, you don’t get to go out with your friends for the whole weekend doing who-knows-what then turn around and get angry at me for spending time with the only friend from school that I still have! That’s not fair.”

“And who’s fault is that? You’re the one who pushed them all away!” Kurt stood up and advanced towards you. Normally, you would have taken a step backwards, given him space, but this time you stood your ground, clenching your fists tightly to stop them shaking.

“I’m still allowed to have a social life,” you said, struggling to keep your tone even. Kurt rolled his eyes.

“If you wanna go out and act like a fucking whore-“

“Think what you want, Kurt,” you said, “it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m leaving. You can’t stop me.”

Kurt spluttered for a moment, turning a shade of deep red. “Like fucking HELL you’re leaving me, you bitch!”

“I am!” you shot back. He was only a few inches from you now, so close his breath was hot on your face. “I’m miserable, I don’t love you anymore, and I’m done. I’ve been done for so long I can’t remember a time I was fully invested in this relationship! I deserve better! I deserve love that doesn’t make me so sad it hurts, and I can’t have that with you.”

Kurt’s face twisted into an ugly contortion of the features you once found perfect. “No. Nobody can love you the way I do! Nobody can understand you like I do! If you leave, I won’t want to live anymore. Don’t you remember? I can’t live without you!”

“Then go to a fucking hospital!” you snapped, moving to get past him. Kurt grabbed your wrist tightly. His grip was like a vice, cutting off blood supply to your fingers.

“Let go!” you begged. Kurt tugged you closer, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth, your noses almost touching. He’s going to kill me. Oh my god, he’s actually going to kill me. You saw movement by the door out of the corner of your eye, and your heart swelled.

“You heard her,” Frankie said, “let her go.”

Kurt didn’t let go, but instead gripped harder. He’s completely lost it, you thought dimly, the expression Kurt wore sending true fear into your heart.

“And just who the fuck are you?” Kurt demanded.

“Let her go,” Frankie repeated. He didn’t raise his voice, but you could still hear the power it held. Kurt scoffed and spat at Frankie’s feet.

“This is an issue between me and my girlfriend, now get out of my apartment before I make you.”

Frankie didn’t reply, instead, he strode forward, pushed the sleeves of his flannel over shirt up as he did. Kurt didn’t wait. He pushed you hard against the kitchen bench, knocking the breath out of you and sending a shot of pain through your back, and moved to meet Frankie in the middle of the room.

It happened in an instant, blink and you miss it. Frankie swung, his fist connecting with Kurt’s jaw with a sickening crunch. Kurt went down like a lead balloon, howling as he collapsed on the floor. Frankie stood over him, breathing hard through his nose.

Manny ran forward to help you, holding you to him like the protective brother you had always wished for. It took you a few moments to realise you were shaking, out of fear or adrenaline you didn’t know.

“Come on,” he whispered soothingly, “we gotta get your stuff.” You nodded and let him help you up. You didn’t feel like you were connected with your body like you were watching the whole thing through a separate set of eyes. You saw Frankie standing over Kurt, arms crossed and boot pressing into Kurt’s chest.

Manny held your hand as you walked to your bedroom. You were distantly aware of the aching in your body, your back, and wrist especially. It was Manny who packed your bag for you, grabbing anything he thought you might need. The whole thing was done in less than ten minutes. Before you left you turned to face Kurt.

“I’ll be back sometime this week to get the rest of my stuff. Do not contact me.”

You felt your strength returning to you as you left with Frankie and Manny with you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish @punkerthanpascal @nakhudanyx @gracie7209 @quica-quica-quica @pintsizemama @phoenix-of-loki

[uwuwriting]

Todoroki, Shinsou and Iida protecting you

Request: Hello can I request todo, shinsou and iida protecting their girlfriend from cat callers or something like that? Basically her being in a really uncomfortable situation and even though she is a fearless hero in the field because of past trauma she freezes up in these situations? Thank you - anonymous

This post might trigger some people since they might have experienced something similar both in the cat calling and past trauma department. I’ve never really written anything so serious and triggering before so this might suck. I’m sorry in advance. So TW beware. Love yaa.💖💖💖

rules

warnings: trauma, PTSD, semi non-con but not explicit, cat-calling, harassment, ends in fluff

Todoroki Shouto

-Shouto is really protective of you. 

-Not an overbearing type of protective, he just wants you to be safe and sound. 

-Also he knew about your abusive past.

-When he shared his family background you shared your own trauma and history with physical abuse. 

-It hurt him to hear you saying that someone you trusted, someone who used to be in his place, betrayed you like that. 

-If he could find your ex and beat him to a plump because of how he scarred you, he would. 

-But you reassured him that you were alright now, that he showed you what being loved felt like even though he himself didn’t really know how to love and that your past is what pushed you to be a hero. 

-Your relationship lasted even after high school and now, one year into the adult world, you two lived together. 

-It had been a tough day for your boyfriend at work, having to fight three major villain attacks and a mountain of paper work to tackle. 

-Fighting along side you was the highlight of his day. 

-He was the first to arrive at your apartment and had gotten to preparing dinner for you when his phone rang. 

-You smiled back at him from the screen as he accepted the call. 

- “Hey, love. I making so-”

- “Sho someone is following me.”

-He heard the panic in your voice and immediately turned off the stove walking to the door to put on his shoes. 

- “Y/N where are you?”

-You gave him your location and he was out the door in no time. 

-He kept you on the phone, talking to you, trying to restrain your panic. 

- “H-he was outside of the pharmacy near the a-agency.” 

-You never stuttered, oh god he was going to kill the man. 

- “I walked past him and he grabbed my arm a-and pushed me on the w-wall. Shouto he tried to t-touch me.”

-He was running now, his rage making his quirk go crazy as flames rose from his left shoulder. 

- “Baby I’m almost there, go into the convenience store on the corner and wait in there.”

-Your weak okay from the other line pushed him further. 

-He knew how certain acts reminded you of your ex, even after all these years. 

-They would send you into a small panic and even though you were one of the top upcoming heroes , you were still human at the end of the day your own past haunting you. 

-He was always there to chase those fears and memories away, never letting them get to close to you. 

-And now that’s exactly what he has set out to do; chase away the man who tried to hurt you. 

-Rounding the corner he was met with a sight he wished to never ever witness again. 

-It seems that you hadn’t made it into the store when he hang up and he slapped himself for not keeping you on the call for longer. 

-He heard your sobs as the man had you pinned to the wall his hand trying to unzip your jeans. 

-Shouto was fuming. 

-Without a second thought he grabbed the man by his jacket and shoved him to the ground, grabbing your elbows to steady you before pushing you gently behind him as the man stood up. 

- “Want a taste of her too boy?”

- “Get the fuck away from her!”

-Shouto kept one of his arms behind him pressing you onto his back as the other activated his quirk frost forming from his elbow to his palm. 

-He could feel your trembling as you clutched onto his shirt, on of your hands grasping his own squeezing it. 

-The man backed away at the sight of Shouto’s ice raising his hands in the air admitting defeat. 

-Shouto however had other plans. 

-Freezing the man on the spot he growled as he fished his phone out of his pocket and called the police reporting what the man had done and his location.

- “If I ever see you again anywhere near her I’m not going to be this kind got it?”

-And with that you two left as the police sirens sounded in the distance. 

-Back in your apartment, Shouto helped you get undressed and then ran you a bath, wiping away the man’s touch and leaving small kisses were his hands used to be. 

-He helped you get dressed in one of his hoodies and a loose pair of sweatpants before setting you down on the couch and ordering your favorite food.

-He heard your small sniffles and sat down beside you, bringing you on his lap and letting you cry it out, rocking you back and forth as he kisses your hair.

-You calm down after some time but Shouto won’t let you leave his embrace.

- “I won’t let anyone else hurt you ever again. I don’t care where I am you will always call me when something happens. I love you.”

-For the next month or so Shouto was at your beck and call, never leaving your side and even going as far to take some days off to spend as much time with you as possible.

-He kept his promise as he kept you safe for the rest of your lives. 

Shinsou Hitoshi

-Hitoshi was there for you when he found out about how one of you family members had hurt you. 

-He was there when you would wake up with nightmares while sleeping in his dorm. 

-Or when you had panic attacks after someone came at you in a way that seemed all too familiar. 

-He was there every step of the way. 

-Hitoshi was really amazed at how you zoned in on your work and those thoughts never held you back. 

-PTSD was hard to battle and even harder to deal with in a work place such as yours. 

-After high school your panic attacks fell in numbers, leaving you to rest peacefully at night.

-Shinsou was sure he had chased your demons away, that you felt completely safe with him and that he would never see your trembles of fear ever again.

-But he was wrong. 

-You two were out on a date, walking along the beach on a sunny day enjoying each others company. 

-Shinsou went to buy you two ice cream leaving you to wait for him on a bench.

-You were minding your business, checking up with your agency to make sure everything is alright; after all it’s not everyday that your main two heroes are out of commission for the day. 

- “Damn girl where’d ya get all that ass!”

-It came from a group of man behind you who were staring at you like a piece of meat.

-You tried to ignore them switching to your messages ready to text Hitoshi.

- “Those shorts look so tight on you sweetheart.”

- “I bet it’s not the only thing that’s tight about her.”

-You had frozen up at the nickname.

-It brought back everything you and Shinsou had managed to scare off, pushing them down your throat making your insides twist in disgust. 

 -He isn’t here it’s just some awful cat callers, Y/N calm down. 

-You tried to calm yourself down using your common sense, separating the two situations and pointing out the differences, a  technique Shinsou had taught you while you were still in high school.

-You were so lost in thought you hadn’t noticed the three men hovering over you, one of them reaching down to grasp your thigh. 

-That’s when you started to tremble.

- “Aw look at her, she’s so excited..”

- “Let’s go have some fun pretty girl.”

- “We’ll make you feel so good you won’t be able to walk home.”

-You shoved the man’s hand away and went to get up only for an arm to snake around your waist  pulling you back down on the bench. 

- “Now now sweetheart don’t be naughty.”

-You wanted Hitoshi. 

-You wanted your Hitoshi so bad right now.

-And as if you had summoned him, purple hair could be seen above the men’s heads. 

-Shoving them off of you one more time you pushed through hitting Shinsou’s chest as he wrapped an arm around you. 

-He pushed you behind his back before scanning the three men, leveling them with a glare so sharp it could slice right through them. 

- “You better leave my girl alone before I get really angry.”

-The men scrambled to their feet before running off, terrified from Hitoshi’s structure. 

- “Kitten! Kitten are you alright? Did they hurt you? Please kitty talk to me.”

-Tears ran down your cheeks and Shisnou just pulled you gently into his chest before telling you that he was taking you home.

-This man will do everything in the house after that. 

-He undresses you and helps into the shower to clear their touch from your skin, then he dresses you in one of his large hoodies and lays you on the couch. 

-He can see you are still trembling so he comes back and takes you into his arms before going back to doing whatever he had in mind. 

-Now this is a scene to behold. 

-Two of Japan’s strongest heroes are walking around their house cosplaying a panda and its bamboo stick. 

 -He orders take out and then lays on the couch, still having you on his lap drowning your sobs in his chest as he says over and over again how sorry he is for leaving you alone and how much he loves you. 

-He knows you haven’t had an episode in what felt like ages. 

-It really shook him seeing you so helpless and terrified again. 

-He swore he would never see that petrified glint in your eyes. 

-That was his new mission. 

-And he was willing to do anything to accomplish it. 

Iida Tenya 

-Iida is well aware about how your ex had forced you to do certain things with him. 

-He also knew how you believed that what had happened had been your fault. 

-He had reassured you that nothing was your fault,that your ex was to blame and to never see yourself other than the victim in this situation. 

-It hurt him to see you suffer so much. 

-He had provided you with a shoulder to cry on and soon enough you two were together.

-When during your last year of high school, his comfort and words didn’t really cut it he encouraged you to see a therapist. 

-And that helped you a lot. 

-It untangled the parts Iida couldn’t reach on his own and coupled with his support you managed to pull yourself fully out of the whole that your ex had dug. 

-Now Iida knew that somethings still triggered you. 

-He knew what he should and shouldn’t do while you two are being intimate and what he should watch out for. 

-So when you two are taking the train to visit Deku in his agency for his birthday and he feels you squeezed his hand a little too hard he knew something was up. 

-You had buried you face in his shoulder, something he wouldn’t allow if you had asked, squeezing his hand as your breathing became uneven. 

-Iida looked around expecting to see your ex somewhere thinking that he was the reason for your small attack. 

-But he found no one he knew in the crowd. 

-Then his eyes fell back down to you and from the corner of his eye he caught movement under your dress. 

-Following the source of the movement with his eyes he was met with the lustful eyes of a grown ass man, his hand under your skirt groping and squeezing you. 

-He saw his hand trying to separate your thighs and that’s when he fully snapped. 

-Grabbing the man’s hand he shoved it in his chest before placing himself between you and him. 

- “How dare you touch her like that? You should be ashamed of yourself!!”

-The whole train was looking at the man at this point and Iida could see how the vein on his forehead popped. 

- “Being an adult, you should know better.”

-Others chimed in insulting and shaming the man while others asked you if you were alright. 

-At the next stop the person got off a chain of angry comments following him out. 

- “Y/N honey are you alright?”

-You buried your face in his chest and he let you stay there for the rest of the ride. 

-He placed on hand on your back rubbing soft circles over your sweater and talking to you not allowing your thoughts/memories to creep further into your mind. 

-He kept your hand in his for as long as you were away from your apartment. 

-You would squeeze his hand every now and then, grounding yourself. 

-Once at home late that evening he pampered you. 

-He ran you a bubble bath and cooked your favorite food. 

-He made a small pillow fort on your couch while you were in the bath and he waited for you to finish. 

-The rest of your day and night was spent in your boyfriend’s arms never letting you go once. 

-He provided his warmth and comfort. 

-Just like when you were in high  school.

TAG TEAM AY:

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[mrspanky]

I'm not really sure how long these are meant to be. "Right, I'm pretty sure that's called trauma".

Trauma Bonding, (a Jason Todd x Reader)

Warnings: Language.

Genre: Fluff/angst/comedy/romance

Authors note: This prompt is perfect, thank you @aethers-stuff ! Sorry it took me so long to write! I hope you like it. ♡(: _______________________________________________

Dick watched you two from the kitchen.

Jason was seated on one end of his livingroom couch and you on the other. You were talking loudly, gesturing with your hands so much that you looked like Italians at a family gathering. You were both exceptionally expressive and extroverted people on your own, so when you got together, the room's volume was always raised a noticeable few notches.

It was endearing, but a real headache when it went on for too long.

Dick massaged his temple. An extrovert himself, he felt the need to jump into the conversation, but he knew better. You and Jason would simply not shut up long enough for him to get a word in when you were both really on a roll, and Dick didn't feel like expelling that much energy. Plus, he was curious to see where this would end.

“...That’s ridiculous Jason”.

You crossed your arms.

“There is no way in hell you're dying your white streak black.”

He raised his hand from the couch armrest in exasperation.

“I wasn't even asking you.”

You arched an eyebrow.

“You should've been. The white streak stays. It's your trademark. If you're concerned about me being right, I dare you to ask everyone to vote.”

“Hon, I am not in the practice of asking people if I can or can't do things.”

“Luckily, you never ask me my opinion so you don't have to worry about breaking your pattern just yet.”

“...You never keep it to yourself, so why would I even bother”.

Dick shook his head. You were like an old, emotionally constipated couple and it was amusing to observe.

“Just kiss already”, he said under his breath.

You turned your head towards the kitchen, hearing him faintly, but almost unintelligibly.

“Dick, did you say something? Sorry, we're arguing here, I hope we're not too obnoxious”.

“Hey don’t throw me under the bus with you, I was just trying to have a moment of quiet meaningless thought when you started playing hair cop,” Jason quipped.

“Hush.”

“Right back at you”.

“-Both of you shut up for a minute. I didn't say anything”.

Dick rolled his eyes.

“However, we do have patrol in an hour, and Bruce sent me some weird instructions.”

“Weird how?”

You tilted your head in curiosity.

Jason glanced at you, and huffed a little. He couldn't help himself. Despite himself, he found you really endearing. Especially in moments like this when your lips were pouted in confusion and....”.

Dick snapped Jason out of his brain fog.

“Jay. Buddy. Try to pay attention.”

“Wasn't not doing that,” he grumbled.

“Then what did I just say.”

The two brothers shared a childish battle of glares.

“...fine, you made your point. I was dreaming about this whisky I saw in the manor the other day”, he lied.

“Ok. Very in character, Jason. Now, the mission is-”

“...looked decadent. It was really old and had this fancy label on it that-”

“...Guys. I can hear you from the other room”, Tim walked in looking miffed.

There was a pause as all three of the human boom-boxes stared blankly at the intruder.

“...you’re a detective, Tim”, Jason deadpanned.

“Ugh, Jason...that’s not the... just shut up.”

Tim pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“Did you all get the mission briefing?”

“Somehow, Jason didn't”, Dick fumed.

“Alright, fine. Basically, Jason, you, and Y/n are staying back tonight because you're the only ones who haven't been seen yet in the city, and Bruce wants to save you guys for an undercover mission next week”.

“What?!”

You both looked at each other in disgust.

“I'm not working for the bat anymore!”

“Yeah, and I've never even started to work for him! He can't just expect us to be at his disposal and then bench us!”

“Guys, relax. He's just doing this so you can have a better element of surprise later. You're both really valuable, ” Dick reasoned.

You and Jason paused, your egos begrudgingly satisfied.

“...fine”.

“Fine”.

“Good. Ok. So everyone suit up”, the oldest brother concluded.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jason was irritated.

He found you interesting. Really interesting. Usually, he dealt with his fear of vulnerability by acting too unbothered to care, but you intrigued him so much that he struggled to keep his mouth shut around you. He was afraid to get too close to you; he would lose you eventually like everyone else.

But, he knew so little about you, despite all of the banter. A talent you both possessed, was chattering without disclosing any actual information. You had only met each other two months ago, and usually it would take both of you longer to warm up to a new person, but there was just a feeling. You were kindred spirits. He wanted to learn more about you, despite himself.

“So what brought you here”.

“Here as in what brought me to dress up and punch criminals as a nightly routine, or as in what brought me to be in an alliance with Bruce Wayne that I'm now regretting?”

There it was. Those were the kind of responses that made Jason feel just enough on his toes to be uncharacteristically comfortable with you.

“Take your pick I guess.”

“Bruce Wayne it is then. I'm not really a fan of my life story”.

“Ttt, ” Jason laughed, taking a page from his youngest brother’s book.

“I'm kind of an accidental friend of Dick’s. We met first at the Bludhaven police station, I was there for...pfft...I was just there, ” You paused with a laugh.

“He helped me out, and we didn't see each other again until he ended up working with me anonymously for info on a case as Nightwing years later. We both just figured out each other's identities and he brought me on a mission once where I met Bruce. And Bruce is a convincing prick so now here I am, somehow under his command”.

“Sounds about right. So when do we kiss?”

Great. Now he sounded like an asshole.

Jason looked at you, gauging to see what your reaction would be. He’d half said that last part by accident, but now that he’d acted out of impulse he knew he couldn’t take it back.

“-What?”

“When do we kiss? You heard Dick”.

He was really committing to his blunder now.

“Yes, and I ignored him and smoothly got him to change the subject. Besides. You're not my type”, you lied.

Jason was in fact, exactly your type.

“What is your type?”

“Shit”, you thought.

“Hmm. I like people who I can chase that don't actually like me, and then I eventually get to give up. It makes it easier”.

You admitted this in a tongue-in-cheek manner, but you weren't really kidding. Something about Jason’s persistence made you want to open up, despite your usual habitual wall-building.

“You're like a fucking mirror; you know that?” Jason laughed.

He knew you weren’t kidding because he’d said things along those lines millions of times.

“Your point, Mr. Therapist? People hurt people. I kind of prefer to enjoy relationships from a distance at best”.

“Right, I'm pretty sure that's called trauma”.

“Call it what you will, but it's a good way of not getting even more mentally busted up than an already fucked vigilante”, you grinned.

“Nice.” he smirked.

“You sound as dumb as me”.

“That’s a little low don’t you think? I’m only half as dumb as you at most, but yeah. Fine. We share some things”.

“What’s that supposed to mean Princess,” he smiled.

He felt himself get exited a little. What you had just said made it sound like you felt you two were similar just as he did.

“That I think we’re both stupid people that have really stubborn hearts that get us into trouble”.

Your heart was beating so fast. You hadn’t meant to say that much.

“Now who’s the therapist”, he said in a low voice.

He leaned in closer to you a little, testing the waters to see if you were just being a little cautious, or if you actually weren’t comfortable. He felt like you were just being scared like he always was deep down, but he didn’t want to push you if it was only going to cause you both more pain.

He was a little scared too. You scared him. Not just because you were powerful and beautiful, but because he actually liked you. He wasn’t used to that. But he knew himself, and when Jason Todd does something, he can’t do it half way. If you were in this too, he knew he’d do anything for you, and that was terrifyingly vulnerable.

As he leaned in, your breath caught.

“Fuck”, you thought.

His eyes were stunning.

You hadn’t let yourself notice how much until now.

“Jason…”

“...Todd why are you about to taint Y/n”.

Jason spun around.

“Damian!” you yelled.

The small Wayne was standing in the doorway.

“Shortstack, you are too young to be using a fancy word like taint”, Jason recovered.

Tim and Dick emerged behind Damian in the doorway.

“What’s going on?” Tim asked.

“Todd was just about to be disgusting with Y/n in front of all of us”, Damian smirked, crossing his arms.

He knew he just set up Dick to take a fit.

The oldest brother was not pleased.

“Jason, really? Damian is right here and you didn’t think to chill?”

Jason rolled his eyes.

“We didn’t do anything Dicky. The kid here is being a drama queen. The only thing he walked in on us doing was some good old fashioned arguing”.

Jason knew he was making himself look like a major...well...dick, but he knew you wouldn’t want to commit to the family knowing about anything that might be going on between you two, however small just yet.

Dick rolled his eyes, and the three brothers walked in the doorway and into the kitchen to get water. You and Jason were always an entertaining spectacle for sure, but patrol was tiring, and they all needed to cool down.

Jason looked back to you. You were looking at your feet with your arms crossed and a barely contained smile on your face.

“The kid has good timing,” he huffed with a laugh.

“Oh fantastic”, you gazed at him, laughing back quietly.

“So, you want to talk some more about trauma?” He asked in a playful, but matter of fact tone.

“Maybe sometime, Red,” you smiled.

You turned and walked away.

“She’s gonna make me work for this”, he thought.

It had been so long since either of you had met your match, and you both were going to thoroughly enjoy this.

[anxiousgaypanicking]

Manipulation

The word manipulation has such negative connotation surrounding it. 

Whenever anyone hears the word, they automatically assume it’s somebody using somebody else as a plaything; as a means to get themselves to the top regardless of who ends up on bottom. Puppeteers have become a common representative for those who manipulate, as if they’re playing with people like dolls. 

But, it doesn’t always mean that. 

Sometimes it means over analyzing a situation and manipulating a conversation to stay away from you in order to protect yourself. Sometimes it’s joking about your trauma so that nobody else can use it against you and get the upper hand. 

Both things Janus Dolion was notorious for doing. 

He knew he had manipulative tendencies, and admittedly he has used it to bypass a few teachers and get a few things throughout his life, but he likes to believe he’s grown since then, and was expressing such, only for his therapist to tell him otherwise. 

“You’re manipulative,” was how he started it off, before he quickly clarified “not in a bad way! You just know how to lead a discussion in a way that will keep the attention off of you. You did it a lot when we first started therapy.” Mr. Picani, Janus’s therapist, laughs, as if he didn’t just lay down news that pulled Janus’s breath from him. “When we first started, you had issues opening up to me. That’s often normal, but even now, when we talk about the incident, you make jokes about it.” 

Mr. Picani clears his throat, as Janus sits there in silence, hands fidgeting with the pop-it he’s holding, fingers pushing the small orbs down, only to push them back on the other side. 

“People who joke about their trauma often do it as a quote-unquote ‘coping mechanism.’ However, they also do it so that they’re always in control of it. If you joke about it, you can control the laughter, and you can therefore control whether or not other people talk about it.” Mr. Picani taps his pen to his notepad, before adding “plus, every time I simply smiled or tried to press on something further, you’d conveniently get side tracked and unveil some new trauma or incident that we’d get fixated on instead, this thing significantly less bad than the accident.” 

Janus’s hand shoots up to his face, smooth fingers bumping across rough scars, before he lets go of the pop-it. His hands clasp together, fingers brushing against the same scarring over his hands. With the scorched hand, he can’t feel his normal one, most of the nerve endings having been severed.

He looks uncomfortable as he fidgets. 

Instinctively, he feels the urge to say something else. Something such as “you’ll never believe what the medic said to me after the incident” or “guess who asked me to Homecoming,” but he doesn’t, because this is exactly what Mr. Picani was talking about. 

He’s never cared about whether or not he’s a good or bad person, seeing as morals can be easily manipulated by religion, but now he feels a sinking feeling in his gut. Is he as bad a person as some claim he is? 

“I can read the look on your face,” the therapist says, and immediately Janus’s eyes snap up and his lips press into a straight line. Any emotion previously displayed is immediately wiped away as soon as attention is brought to it, and even though Mr. Picani is smiling, he exhales through his nose.

The insistent tapping draws Janus’s eyes to that, and things are silent for a moment, before Janus looks towards the clock. 

“It’s three’o’clock,” Janus says, standing up. He sets the pop-it back on the table beside him, before standing up. Mr. Picani stands up, and opens the door for him, following him out of the office. 

Outside, a man with scarring up his neck and over his face is waiting for them. It reaches over his lips and basically covers his entire lower half, plus a patch over his forehead. Unlike Janus, both of his eyes are unharmed. 

He leans on a cane, limping towards them when they walk out. 

“Thanks, Mr. Picani,” the man says, and Mr. Picani nods, offering a sympathetic smile. 

“It’s no problem. I’m working at the hospital on Friday, so I won’t be able to see you until next Tuesday,” he directs that statement towards Janus, but is looking at the man. “Thanks again, Mr. Dolion. I’ll see you later, Janus.” He waves, and heads back inside the office, leaving Janus and his father outside. 

“Did therapy go well?” Mr. Dolion asks, as he leads Janus back to his car, limping to the driver's side. Janus momentarily stares at the golden head of the cane. 

Janus climbs into the passenger side, refusing to acknowledge the panic that he’s filled with as soon as he’s shut in the car. Trapped; enclosed. 

“Yeah,” he lies, when his father inserts the key into the ignition. He offers a small smile, one that appears real enough to wash away any doubt his dad may have had. “Therapy was great.”

so, a while ago, my therapist informed me that i’m manipulative, and told me (in way better detail) that i utilize my ability to read people in order to protect myself. when first hearing that, i knew she was right. i knew that i could direct a conversation away from me and wipe away any worry surrounding my feelings if i didnt want to talk about them, in order to keep myself from being vulnerable, and thus keep myself safe

im still guilty of doing this now, but when first hearing it, i reacted poorly, and had a breakdown over whether or not i was a bad person for deceiving my friends constantly. its because of the negative connotation surrounding the idea of manipulation that i thought of this, and thinking it back on it now, i really wanted to show that manipulation isnt all bad. sometimes its done to protect yourself, which is often an inherently good thing

so take this short piece of writing to basically express that

[chasing-rabbits]

I’ve been under my new CMHT (community mental health team) for a month now and unfortunately it’s been a little slow for the transfer to really lead to anything. So like I was transferred to their care and they run kinda different to my old CMHT I think they have more resources and are generally a larger unit since they’re in the town and my old CMHT was covering smaller villages. Probably a funding thing tbh.

Long post so putting under read more it’s mostly positive but there is some discussion about struggling with trauma & a potential PTSD/CPTSD diagnosis nothing I’d consider to be triggering but I want to put a small CW just in case any discussion could be upsetting to someone going through shit right now.

Anyways I’m under what they call their TABI?? Idk how its spelled to be honest but they said because I’m a new patient to them I’m under their TABI team which is their like triage team and acute short term treatment team. This includes being assigned a care co-ordinator who manages my case which is nice because they basically manage me as a whole and bring together every team treating me. Like an issue at my old place is I was under a psychiatrist then a therapist and an OT (Occupational therapist) but they didn’t always cross communicate but that’s kinda what the care co-ordinator will help with in the beginning I think I only get her for short term whilst they organise my care and do a full assessment on their end. But it does make things easier because I can just talk to her one person about my care as a whole from all points also she seems really lovely. I had a conversation with her earlier this week and explained some of my concerns and potential issues I’d not discussed with my previous psych for a variety of reasons tbh. Uh but she said it does sound like I could have some PTSD/CPTSD etc etc so she’s going to reach out and see about getting me some kind of assessment/appointment with the relevant member of staff I say staff not psychiatrist because she said there’s someone in the TABI team whose able to make those diagnoses not just my psychiatrist which I’ve yet to be assigned. That is in part because they need to assess me although she said its likely I’d be transferred to what they call the recovery team as I said TABI is also for short term interventions no more than 6months the recovery team is for those who may need longer term care whether it be psych care or therapy or both and more. She is also getting the ball rolling on a psychology assessment/appointment however waiting lists are about a year but once assessed it typically doesn’t take too long to then get the corresponding therapy decided by the outcome of the assessment so that’s not too bad and there’s often long waits for therapy so I expected it tbh I am glad she said it’s only about a year because some places it can be a lot worse.

She’s also reaching out the their OT for an assessment so unfortunately whenever you switch CMHT’s the new one often like to do their own assessments again with things like therapy and OT and such which makes sense it’s been awhile since my first assessment and things might have changed in fact they probably have so I understand that and I’m glad she’s reached out for me to get an assessment as soon as they have availability.

Honestly it just feels so good to be heard regardless of outcomes I just wanted someone to hear what I was saying and feel like they were taking it seriously and not dismissing everything I said. I feel like I might *fingers crossed* get a decent level of treatment from a place of compassion and care although I’m yet to meet my actual psychiatrist or therapist or OT for that matter but so far everyone I have spoken to has been very very lovely. Although talking to her very briefly about some of my symptoms and trauma has meant I’ve been having a lot of thoughts since then about it. I woke up this morning thinking about it all and that’s been hard but I know it’s going to be hard and really fucking triggering to go through all of it but hopefully at the end of it I’ll be better because I can’t therapy without a diagnosis and if I get therapy that’ll be just as triggering all over again but again at the end of it I’ll hopefully have better coping mechanisms and strength to handle it. Idk it just feels like things might be going in a positive direction. I just wish my mind would stop taking me back to past bullshit because it’s so I feel like I’d do anything to just make my mind stop for a second so I don’t have to think or feel any of this and I know that’s a dangerous thought process to go down so idk I’m going to have to try really hard to find other coping mechanisms on my own before I get therapy because I can’t go back to what I used to do when I felt this way, never again. I have enough issues as it is.

[kenology]

10:31 AM  

3/5/2024 

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Hey JB.  

How’s it going? Mom said you’re coming home soon, and that you’re doing better. Happy early 18th. I guess it really is true what they say – they grow up so fast. 

I miss you. I know you probably don’t want to hear it, but I’ve been worried about you. We all have. It’s not your fault, I just mean that we’re glad to see you doing okay.  

I want you to know that 

I was going to try to do the whole small-talk thing, but to be honest with you, I’m not sure where to start.  

How’s the weather out there? 

Guess I could just look it up.  

Google says 34 and sunny. I hope you’re staying warm.  

Can’t really ask about music, or TV, or movies, since Mom said you’ve basically been unplugged for a year.  

What are you most looking forward to about coming home? 

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Maybe it’s cheesy, but as your big brother, I’m contractually obligated to say this: I’m proud of you. Seriously. You’re way cooler than I was at your age. I know you said you feel like you’re coming out late, but hey – you figured things out earlier than I did.  

Everyone here has been cool about it – and actually, I saw on Facebook the other day that Ethel Muggs (a friend from high school) is non-binary too. (By the way, Sweet Pea – do you remember him? Turns out he’s bi; he and Fangs have been dating for like 9 months now). 

Mom is a surprisingly good PFLAG parent. The other day, she said “now our family can check off every letter in LGBT.” Another piece of information that I had to learn (so now you do, too): apparently she and Alice Cooper have a history. I kind of saw it coming, but still. Good for them, I guess? 

I wish Dad was here to see you. I know I was nervous about it when I first came out to him, but he’s changed a lot. For real. He’d be really proud of you.  

 By the way, finally found a publisher for my book. It’s in stores now; I’m actually not doing too bad. I tried to send you a copy, but they returned it because it contained “violent themes.” I get their point, but it seems kinda pointless to censor violent content given what kind of treatment facility you’re in. Sorry, maybe that was too soon.

 In other news (or lack thereof), I’m still in New York. I’m doing okay. I’m an adjunct professor, teaching introductory English, mostly, and supposedly working on my second novel. 

It’s never gotten this bad before. Every word I write sounds like it hates the surrounding words in its sentence, and each sentence hates the paragraph it’s in, and so on and so forth. My therapist told me to try writing letters, that it might help me communicate my repressed feelings or whateve 

Feels more like working on developing a debilitating case of writer’s block.

Honestly, I’m just afraid I might be out of material. Unless you’re really fucked up -- like, record-breaking -- you only get to exploit your childhood trauma for profit once. My first book was about Riverdale, and I pretty much said everything I had to say. I have no idea how to go about finding new material.  

Enough about me. Mom said you’ve been writing poetry – I’d love to read it sometime. I could never quite get into the right headspace for poetry, but I really admire people who do. Who are some of your favorite poets? What do you write about? 

Speaking of Mom, she’s doing okay, too. Dad’s medical bills put us through a rough patch, to put it lightly, and we’re still kind of picking up the pieces. I guess she’s probably keeping you updated on that when she visits you. I wish they’d allow siblings to visit, too. 

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Greenside Apartments Maintenance – Re: Broken window 

Mr. Jones, 

Repair services for university property that has been damaged by accidents or misuse will… 

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 Are you still into Pink Floyd? (Or were you, before you went to the center, I mean?) I thought of you the other day when a song of theirs came on the radio – “Wish You Were Here”, I think. 

I wish you were here, JB. 

Take care of yourself.

-Jug  

Love,  

Jug 

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