#mild trauma

[the1ofall]

i think there’s a part of my brain which refuses to age past ten years old

[spectrecowboy]

everybody's soldier

[chamerionwrites]

Sometimes you experience things and your only two options are to live the rest of your life in dissociation and denial, or to fundamentally alter your worldview based upon the facts of reality you’ve been confronted with. Funny enough it’s typically the latter that makes people treat you like you’re crazy

[fvedyetor]

everyday normal binder experience. right guys. right.

[groovygrub]

[pastafossa]

Idk who needs to hear this but if something traumatic happened to you a while back and you've been doing well healing, and then have an incident that prompts an anxiety attack, that's ok. It doesn't diminish the progress you've made. It doesn't mean you've fucked up. It doesn't mean it'll never get better. It doesn't mean you're getting worse. It just means you've got some more healing to do.

[dyemelikeasunset]

i know the brain unlocks when its safe to, so these flashbacks are a good sign, but the grief is unbelievable

[peeta-mellark]

GEN V (2023—) 1x07 “Sick”

[martyrbat]

batman: shadow of the bat #0

[ID: a flashback of the outside of Wayne Manor at night. A narration box (unrelated to the scene) reads, “Ya think he's got a guardian angel, or somethin'?” Inside the manor, Leslie Thompkins and Alfred Pennyworth are talking in regards of young Bruce Wayne. They sit in a magnificent library at a small table as Bruce sits at his own desk that's across the room and has his face buried in a book. Alfred reassures her, “— Worried about him, Doctor Thompkins? I can assure you there's no need! Master Bruce has the manor to live in — myself to look after him — the best education money can buy—”. Leslie cuts Alfred off before he can continue rambling out more examples. She tells him, “It's what he doesn't have that bothers me, Alfred. Friends — hobbies — the kind of life a normal teenager looks forward to. He spends all his time in the gym, or here reading. I don't think he ever recovered from his parents' death.” We're shown Bruce, now in a close-up and able to see the book he's reading is titled ‘Lip Reading For Beginners’. Bruce peers over the book intensely as Leslie continues to express her rightful concern, “He almost seems obsessed!” END ID]

[chiquilines]

Redraw of a comic i made a year ago for the villain!fuyumi AU!!

[ridreamir]

Hey!if you write for Arven would you be willing to do platonic Headcanons for him?

Yes I could! I haven't been writing on here but I am open to it!

(Just to let you guys know though I am in school full time so I might be a little slow haha, here's a short post!) This could potentially be interpreted as romantic! There isn't any romance explicitly stated but they are kind of close/friend date scenarios almost just to let you know!

__________________________________________________ Some platonic moments with Arven might include: Going out into the forest to forage for ingredients, since you two already made such a duo trying to hunt for Herba Mystica! He's constantly reading new foraging books and is very careful, it almost makes you wonder why he doesn't do so hot in his other classes. He does have reading glasses, but he's too embarrassed to wear them in front of others. That could partly be the reason why he's been flunking, but then again a big part of passing class is showing up and he's the type to want to be everywhere but the classroom (except for Mr. Saguaro's class of course!) Sitting in fields and having picnics, making sandwiches together! Arven is a next-level chef so he carries around a mini hot plate and pan so he can cook things up on the spot, and most of the time it ends up incredible. ...Sometimes though, you've both been prone to burning certain ingredients or accidentally mixing the wrong things. Not to mention how often you drop stuff. Those sandwiches often go to Koraidon and Miraidon because they're quantity over quality type lizards.

If it weren't for his health, Mabostiff would also be feasting. Arven is really careful with his diet, and you're not sure his dog friend always likes being denied a gross burnt burger sandwich but it just goes to show how much Arven really cares. You both like to take naps in the grass, but you've found him snoozing in some very odd locations. He's usually propped against a rock or tree in the shade, or lying with his arms folded. Needless to say, you have nearly tripped over him before because he literally will choose any spot that looks like it might be even remotely comfortable.

He doesn't seem like it, but Arven is an incredibly strong trainer, and if he put his mind to it he could absolutely beat the gym challenge. You never really catch him training, but his Pokemon eat Michelin-star-level meals daily so you're starting to think that might be the secret to his incredible strength. Speaking of strength, he suffers from mild back pain from carrying that huge heavy pack around 24/7, but he'll still do wild and crazy things. He's not the most outwardly athletic in terms of sports but he's really good at hiking and climbing, and he's gotten very strong physically from exploring Paldea. When exploring, he's constantly trying to feed you. He's not the type to pull out trail mix either, he'll literally stop and park in the middle of nowhere if he finds out you haven't ate in a while and will sit there and angry-cook a whole meal in front of you. You do annoy him a little sometimes, but you think that he might have such a hyperfocus on food because of his childhood. It's not a fun topic for him though so you never try to pry. He knows you're a busy person, but somehow you always find time for each other. You're still attending the academy together at least, so it's not hard for him to stop by and check in on you. He's been barred from wandering off too far because of his grades, but you're not going to rat him out for sneaking out (partly because you come along and could get in trouble for encouraging him.)

[im-jesus]

Who would have known that Jesus Christ is a marauders fan? Woah?

Who do you kin-

Regulus. Oh my god, I'm a Reggie kinnie, which is very upsetting when my friend goes on rants about him being a fascist.

The idea that he was created to be a spare (I was created in violence in a last ditch attempt to save a marriage), and was kept away from the only people who could save him from his fate (I literally have no friends that aren't through a screen and before 18 I had none whatsoever), and he fucking died to do the right thing (self sacrificial people pleaser gang wya). It will never stop hurting my soul that he was not loved the way every child should be: unconditionally and without inhibition. I see myself in him, and it kills me.

Also, I don't know how to swim.

[conkers-thecosy]

Bagginshield-tober / Day 6 / Recovery

Hey folks! Here's my offering for day six of the "Bagginshield-tober" prompt list, by the lovely @smolestboop 💛

You can also find these little snippets compiled into one fic on AO3 - day seven is posted there too, but it's only a short one!

This one is a liiiiittle angsty, so be warned, but as always there's an element of hurt/comfort and a fluffy end, which hopefully balances it out.

Hope you enjoy!

~*~*~

It had been three weeks since Thorin and Bilbo had begun to share one another’s beds.

It was perfectly innocent, of course, and Bilbo had gone out of his way to explain that in hobbit culture it was more than acceptable to share a bunk with friends or family for comfort. Co-sleeping, he called it. In truth, it wasn’t the first time they had done so, as on the road to and from Erebor, they had often slept side by side for warmth and safety. Not just the two of them, either - all of the company had piled in wherever there was a space.

Now in Bag End, they never began the night in bed together. They would say goodnight as they always had, then head to their respective bedrooms. It was September now, and much cooler, so they were able to shut their doors once again. Still, since that first night when Thorin had been incapable of ignoring Bilbo calling his name in such distress, they had both come to an unspoken agreement; if one had a nightmare, then the other would knock on their door and quietly ask if they wanted company.

It seemed to settle them both, and often once they were in the same bed, feeling the weight and warmth of the other beside them, they would both settle into a much more peaceful slumber than if they were apart.

Tonight it was Thorin who had cried out, and Bilbo who had come to him, quietly asking if he had need of him. Thorin had accepted the comfort, wishing he was confident enough to ask the Hobbit to start the night with them sharing a bed, and spare them both the distress. He would only say it was platonic, and of course it would be, but in his heart he wished fervently that it might turn into more, that it might in turn answer another question that he longed to ask, but dare not.

He was shocked and shaken to wake again the same night from another nightmare, despite Bilbo already being beside him. Awakening with a muffled cry, his body taut and chest constricted, he was confused for a moment to find a small hand pressed gently over his heart.

“It’s alright, you’re alright,” Bilbo shushed him softly. “Just a nightmare, Thorin. It’s not real.”

Thorin looked up with wide eyes as Bilbo leant over him, sleep-tousled and concerned, and felt immediately ashamed. He didn’t know why, couldn’t hardly think straight, but it felt like some kind of failure to still be woken so, even with Bilbo as close as he was. Like he was too broken, too used up to ever recover, that he would always be haunted by the horror of his own actions.

“Try to breathe,” Bilbo pressed, his voice quiet, as though afraid they might wake others despite being the only ones in the smial. “It’s okay.”

“I’m fine,” he grit out, turning on the mattress so his back was to Bilbo.

There was a long pause, and Thorin squeezed his eyes shut, trying to breathe normally again through sheer willpower and shame alone. Then Bilbo spoke carefully.

“Would you like for me to leave?”

Thorin’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest. Had he frightened Bilbo? Did he want to leave? But no, surely if that were the case, the Hobbit would simply have gone without a word. He had been trying to offer comfort, and Thorin had snapped at him for it, but only because there was something so unsettling to be looking that the version of Bilbo that tormented his dreams, and waking to be faced with the same visage, only soft with concern for one who did not deserve it.

Still, Thorin knew he was greedy by nature. Selfish. Hateful. He could not help but reach for the things he wanted, even when it was wrong to do so.

“No.”

Another silence followed, shorter this time, before Bilbo sighed quite quietly. “I will not be offended if you wish to be alone, Thorin.”

“No, please,” Thorin shook his head against the pillow, hating how pathetic and weak he sounded. “Please stay.”

Bilbo immediately settled himself back on the bed, and the dwarf was surprised when, instead of simply laying side by side as they always had, not touching and being very careful of one another’s space, an arm was draped carefully over his waist. His heart jumped again, only for a different reason, and he felt the Hobbit press his soft, warm body flush against his broad back.

“I’ll stay as long as you like,” Bilbo promised, his breath puffing against Thorin's shoulder and disturbing his hair very gently. It was hard to breathe again.

Thorin didn’t know how long they lay like that, Bilbo holding him as a lover might, his small hand finding its way back over his heart, the warmth of it seeping through his sleeping tunic and into his skin, into his very bones. His breathing became even again, and he knew that Bilbo was still awake, if only from the way he was still holding him almost protectively. There was a time not too long ago where he would have scoffed at such a notion, but now… now he felt safer than he had in a long time.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” Thorin murmured into the night.

“Don’t apologise,” Bilbo replied, his words like a caress against Thorin’s skin. “You’re still healing, and it takes time.”

Thorin closed his eyes and sighed. “I may never heal fully.”

He felt Bilbo offer some approximation of a shrug from where he was pressed up against his back.

“Maybe, but it will get easier, I’m sure of it,” the Hobbit said. “And I will be here to help, no matter how long it takes. I will be here for the duration, I promise.”

There was such conviction, such earnest faith in his words, that Thorin had no choice but to believe him. He did not remember falling asleep after that, but he must have done almost immediately, the lingering promise of forever giving his fraught mind the peace he so craved, and a fresh hope for eventual recovery.

[tearlessrain]

covid was weird for me honestly, it was technically a mild case and I had very few of the typical symptoms (almost no cough, barely had a sore throat, could still taste/smell fine not that it mattered since I was constantly nauseous) and I wouldn't really say I had long covid but getting it definitely Did Something to me that was not good. my body/energy levels/mental health have just kinda been all around worse ever since. it's been two years and a lot of it is not as bad as it once was (I'm apparently just a human barometer forever now though which wasn't a thing at all before) but I still suspect this is probably true of a lot of people and it is not helping the whole "everyone is kinda fucked up now" thing.

[cupids-fiction]

apologies if this is insensitive but can we commission neil gaiman to rewrite the bible because i think his version of hell is much more plausible than the whole fiery demon siphilus-type stuff

[moeblob]

Anyway i should post these to my OC blog but I keep mentioning Ymber here and so you guys are getting forced to see him.

In Deacon's defense, he doesn't think it's weird that he likes being alone in Ymber's temple considering they first met /when he was alone in Ymber's temple/. In Ymber's defense, he knows Deacon has no magical powers and so the whole resonance with the dead is unexpected cause he's never seen Deacon talk to the dead because he's always on duty around Ymber.

So. (jazz hands) Deity of Wet, Ymber.