#more or less in recovery from a relapse

[snowyvoid]

feeling particularly emotional today. i wanted to go the shops with my mum but it was too late in the day and they closed. and im listening to the songs i used to like. but i finally stretched my septum. maybe things are okay even though i am the way i am. almost every aspect of my body is wrong in some way, but its okay, because i know that someday, someone or something will see through this skin. see me as i am. and i hope i will see them too. their true self, the thing they hide underneath the bed and in the backs or drawers. i know the sun will rise tomorrow but i still go to bed scared it wont.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi! I hope your doing well while you read this request! May I ask for HSR Men (Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Heng, Welt and maybe Boothill) their reaction when after 2 weeks of disappearance from their s/o because of a mission, they came back to them all exhausted and slightly injured. If I can be more precise, can you describe how they acted when they had no news of their s/o et their reaction when they came back please?

Thank you for the attention you’ll give to this request ! I hope you’ll have a great day/night!

-🩵✨

This is a long one, so brace yourselves! And have a great morning/evening/night! 🦦🐿️

Blade

‘Where have you been?’ Blade hissed, anger laced his voice as he drags you to the nearest surface and eased you on it, keen to avoid worsening your wounds.

‘I was on a mission.’ You sassed, not wanting this to be your first conversation back from a near death experience.

‘I know that,’ he barks as he rummaged through the cabinets for a first aid kit, uncaring do the mess he was making in the process, ‘you’ve been on a mission for two fucking weeks and not once did it come to mind to keep in contact during that time?’ He adds, looking at you with a look that wasn’t angry but instead scared.

Blade had spent the past two weeks going utterly insane form the lack of communication on your end. At first he didn’t think much but by day 12, Blade was more or less ready to included himself in your mission. Unfortunately according to Elio, this wasn’t apart of the script and Blade was made to stay on the sidelines and await your return.

It wouldn’t take long before you came home but you came home in the worst of conditions that Blade had ever seen you in recent memory, and that made him extremely upset. Not at you though, more or less at the person or thing that made those wounds on you.

Communications were down, I had no way of telling you anything.’ You replied, having already grown annoyed at his constant pestering and prodding.

‘Well you should’ve.’ Blade muttered gruffly as he gently took your arm into his hand and examined the wound and had to bite his tongue from saying anything else, but found that task to be a bit too difficult for him. ‘Then I could’ve stopped them from hurting you.’ He added.

You groaned and punched your brow with your free hand, all you wanted to do was go to sleep but couldn’t help but feel warm on the inside at the idea of Blade getting revenge on your behalf. ‘That’s not necessary.’ You told him, trying hard not to wince as he cleaned your wound.

‘And why not?’ He asks, noticing your attempts and wordlessly tries a different approach in cleaning your wound.

‘They’re all dead.’ You replied nonchalantly and Blade couldn’t help but smile. ‘That’s my partner.’ He says but the smile soon falls as he finished patching your wound and looks you dead in the eyes. ‘However the next time you’re sent on a long mission I’m coming with, no excuses.’

You groan again, there was no winning with this man.

Jing yuan was trusting in your abilities to keep yourself safe but the longer he went without update of you nor progression of the mission, Jing Yuan grew worried that something had happened.

He already lost a lot, he didn’t need your loss on top of all that. He lost hope on appreciating that he was living once, he knew that if anything happened to you he would relapse into those old ways but with no chance of recovery.

He would try and fail many attempts of making contact with you, only to be met with static as a responses which didn’t exactly help his hope in seeing you that slowly began to dwindle the longer he tried, until he stopped trying all together.

In his mind you were gone a long time ago and he should start his grieving while he could.

However you did come back, but not exactly in the best shape…you were wounded and exhausted but to Jing Yuan you never looked more alive in that moment as he was quick to get you medical attention. Not once did the general think to leave your leave your side as you laid out on the bed, wounds patched up and fast asleep from everything.

He even slept in the chair next to your bed, making sure your sleep went undisturbed and had a familiar face to wake up to as to not feel misplaced somewhere foreign. Jing Yuan didn’t feel entirely comfortable in leaving you alone during this time, especially when you’re vulnerable and susceptible to a plethora of things.

Not when he barely avoided a possibility of never seeing you again. He didn’t care for the reasons why you couldn’t contact him, those can wait for another time, he only cared that you were back by his side and alive.

So he’d fall asleep with his hand laced with yours and his head resting on your lap, acting like your personal guard dog as he kept his body facing towards the door in the instant he had to protect you.

No one would take you from him again, mission or not, you were staying by his side from now on, generals orders.

Dan heng didn’t think much when you didn’t reach out and tell him about the things you’ve found that he might like whilst away, however that didn’t mean he didn’t have a bad feeling about all of it.

He did but he couldn’t prove why as it was too early into the mission to say why he felt that way. Dan Heng always trusted his instincts when it came moments of uncertainty as they’ve always been proven correct. However this was the one time where he really didn’t want that to be the case.

Yet the longer he went without the regular flow of communication between the two of you during missions, Dan Heng felt himself break out into a cold sweat during the night and out of breath from experiencing another nightmare where you didn’t come back from this mission, leaving him utterly heartbroken and lost for the rest of his days.

He couldn’t close his eyes for a single second without the nightmare flooding back to haunt him of a potential future without you, his other half.

He even had nightmares where you were calling out to him for help but he couldn’t hear them and was forced by an higher power to ignore your soundless cries and walk away unbothered. Those were the nightmares Dan Heng hated the most as there would never be a moment in his life where he would ever leave you to such a cruel fate; He’d be more than gladly suffer with you than ever abandon you.

So the moment you came home wounded and exhausted, Dan Heng didn’t waste time in getting you to medical, taking everything the doctor told him to help you heal seriously as your newly appointed caregiver. Some of the time he came across as strict but he meant well as all he wanted was for you to get better and soon, seeing as how you gave him the biggest fright of his life.

He doesn’t let anyone else near you.

You can blame it on his dragon noodle side as it grew overprotective of the fact that you -his mate- were in seemingly left in a vulnerable state. He didn’t care to listen to the reasonings as to why he should let anyone else come near you, not without knowing their intentions in descriptive depth, he could take care of you himself perfectly fine and without any outside help.

He was your partner, you were his responsibility but this was all just an excuse to hide the fact that Dan Heng was genuinely scared of letting you out of his sight, even if it was for five minutes because a lot could happen in five minutes. So now he stays close to you from then on as a precaution, holding your hand in his and squeezing it as thought he was trying to convince himself that you were actually with him weeks afterwards.

Boothill didn’t like the idea of you being so far from him and much preferred for you to stay in contact if you were going to be so far away from him for so long.

However nothing seemed to want to go the way he wanted as soon as he found that he couldn’t contact you. None of his messages were going through and neither were his calls, as he read and reread the message that said you were out of the area for his messages to get through to you.

Boothill grew more and more restless the longer his texts didn’t go through, still claiming you were out of the area, whatever the hell that means and had to actively find ways to de stress because of how often he found himself on the verge of blasting anything and everything that moved.

You were his anchor, his partner in crime and his voice of reason, without you Boothill was teetering on the brink of becoming everyone’s problem should you spend even another hour more away from him.

So when you did come back with wounds scarred across your body and looking as though you were on the brink of collapse, Boothill was made more worried than before. Your wounds weren’t very deep nor life threatening but Boothill didn’t care, you were hurt and he wasn’t made aware of it for the past two weeks.

He wanted to hunt down the bastards who made those wounds on your body and make them pay, regardless if they had a bounty on their heads or not, he’d gladly hunt them down just to set an example as to why you don’t fuck with Boothill’s loved one.

‘Don’t.’ You croaked, grabbing his hand. ‘Just stay with me and make everything okay cowboy.’

Boothill, not one to argue with you, especially not in your current state, obeyed your wish and stayed by your side as you slowly but surely recovered from your wounds with scars left behind as reminders.

Though that didn’t stop him from going off behind your back to hunt the bastards down, he never could let go of a grudge after all.

Welt basically worried himself sick when he didn’t hear anything from you the first couple of days, but was soon talked down from doing anything rash that could potentially put you in even more danger, regardless of his intention of being by your side.

Welt was restless for the remainder of the two weeks, double checking his phone for anything that could push him over the edge and force him into acting.

What happened to you?

Why weren’t you responding?

Were you hurt?

Were you in danger and he didn’t know?

So many thoughts floated in welt’s mind as he was left feeling powerless as he was forced to await your return, hoping that all his thoughts were just that, meaningless thoughts that had no real affect in reality.

He was wrong.

You did come home but you came back with some new wounds and a face that screamed exhaustion. You barely took one step before collapsing into Welt’s arms as he got you medical help.

‘What happened out there?’ He’d calmly ask one day as he held your hand, thumb rubbing the back of it reassuringly.

‘Communications were down,’ you told him as you squeezed his hand, just happy to be back home and with him, ‘then the mission went south as I found myself out of my depth on several occasions, I’m sorry Welt.’ You finish weakly.

‘There’s nothing to be sorry for.’ Welt reassures as he presses a kiss to your forehead. ‘Not all missions go according to plan and all that matters right now is that you’re safe, so please don’t apologise for things beyond your control.’ He adds as he watched you slowly drift to sleep, still feeling a little exhausted from the mission and everything that happened.

Welt stayed awake for a little while longer to commemorate this moment to memory, to treasure it during the moments when you were to be apart from one another again, but until that time Welt would hold you as close as he possibly could and keep you safe to the best of his abilities. Your safety meant a lot to him and he’d rather jeopardise his own safety if it meant that you’d never get hurt again, he’d do it in a heartbeat because that’s just how much you meant to him and todays events only solidified that.

[dead-weight-vents]

We need significantly more harm reduction posts/tips.

No, you shouldn't turn to purging, you shouldn't take laxatives you don't need, detox shit does nothing -that's the point of your liver and kidneys, if you feel like you are going to faint or your heart rate is too high please eat something and go to the ER if you need to, your brain is literally eating itself so try to eat 500cal worth of food or more to help that and anything below that is nearly useless, try to actually prevent a binge by eating what your body needs- not distracting yourself, pay attention to your nutritional needs, fiber, protein, minerals, and vitamins is very important and you should be eating it even if your not eating carbs (which you should still be eating but I understand if it's too scary to do so), yes, you are sick and shouldn't promote and worship your ED, it is not your friend.

The biggest part of having an ana buddie is having someone tell you when you SHOULD eat and not push you too far. Stay away from ana coaches.

Starving for a month or starving for years, regardless you have damaged your body in some way. Your bones, organs, immune system, will have permit repercussions even well into recovery. Especially if you relapse over and over too. The sooner you get better the less damage is risked.

There are so many ways of getting thin and not hating your body. If you even think you don't want to do this any more, please, please, please take your chance out.

If not as a community we should still take the time and effort to keep each other as safe as possible.

Please remember to be kind to yourself and others, everyone is already going through something.

[pedge-page]

Cravings

Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x F!reader

Summary: Pussy eating king frankie, who gets his aforementioned nickname when you tried to come up with ways to prevent him from relapsing back to coke.

Warnings: soooo much oral —pussy eating, cum eating, grinding, dry humping, cumming in pants, kissing, Frankie's mouth is everywhere, alcohol, drunk sex, unprotected sex, little dub con since Frankie doesn't ask if he can cum inside, overstimulation, free use esc situations

Notes: This is NOT the Frankie free-use series I mentioned before; I'm a bit delayed with writing it, so here's something else i had started as a drabble but then... did not stay a drabble. Please like and reblog if you enjoy this fic!

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Rather than drowning himself in coke, Santi slyly suggest he drowns himself in pussy instead. The guys around the table laughed, but you kind of agreed and told him you'd help set him up on hookups. Frankie didn't want to go through the trouble of having to find a potentially different girl each night. Plus, his cravings were sporadic. He would need his fix in that moment whenever it came.

He remembered back when you had drunkenly admitted guys could hardly satisfy you because you had a high drive, usually cumming on your fingers at least 6 times a day before bed, often times more on lonely weekends. He was left speechless at the time, but now he couldn't get Santi's proposition mixed with that knowledge of you out of his head.

You tried to cook him meals instead or buy him hoards of candy, but the idea was stuck in his mind. You knew you'd be a convenient alternative, given you only lived less than 10 minutes away and was always around when he needed help. But you were afraid of crossing that line with one of your all time best friends.

Eventually, being around him so much—"on call" as the boys put it—left you susceptible to his sweet touches, ghosting lips against your ears, sporadic twitches and jittery hands, antsy fingers dancing along your hips. You considered the option heavily before finally caving: you were doing this to HELP him, as his friend. Just a little relief every so often when he absolutely needed it.

You came 9 times on his tongue the first time. It wasn't even that he was trying to make you cum, but the eagerness in the way he moved so fast, growling and moaning at the taste, his lips attached and never left your heat. His big nose just perfectly bumping your clit each time he pointed his tongue dove deep into your craving hole, curling up and hitting that soft spot inside you left you shaking and crying out his name, back arched and fingers clawing at his shoulders.

He was sated for almost 6 days (and you needed the ample recovery time because not even your fingers could make you cum so hard) before the craving hit again. Incessant knuckles pounded your doorstep. You had barely unlocked the door before he was shoving himself in and devouring your mouth with his. "I need another hit, carniño."

He didn't wait for a response, knocking you on your ass on the sofa and stripping your sweats and panties off before throwing one leg over his shoulder. Flattening his tongue, he licks a long strip along from your hole to your clit, obscenely guttural moans from the back of his throat filled your ears. He looked wild-eyed and crazy, as if starved for weeks and was finally given the sugar rush of the century.

You inevitably move in with him, claiming his spare bedroom, worried about how bad he gets when he goes anything longer than a few hours without you.

He makes you ride his face until you're suffocating him, and he still can't get enough. Your juices flood his mouth and nose and his eyes roll back as he loses air. You try to get off and apologies, but he's caged your thighs with his muscular arms, holding your pussy flat against his face as he devoured you more, ignoring your squirming pleas. He hums against your nub, the vibrations sending you into your own addictive high. You cum again, and again, and again, and soon you're tugging his hair, crying his name with fat tears down your cheek, leaning back and scratching at his chest to let off, but its useless. He's so lost in your cunt that you become light headed, barely holding on to the headboard as your lower body continues to spasm.

He only pulls off for a minute, squeezing his nostrils to force out your juices. He's so dazed, pupils blown wide, beard and mustache drenched in your slick, so pussy-drunk and in love that he wants to do it again. "Sweetest fucking cunt, I swear. Just wanna curl up and live inside here, querida."

You offer to suck him off but he gestures embarrassingly down, where you turn to see a dark splotch on the belt-line of his pants where the tip of his spent cock peaks out, dribbling little white drops onto his lower belly, having cum untouched just from eating you out.

It gets to the point where you lock yourself in the bathroom when you take a shower just to have 10 minutes of peace. Your pussy is so puffy, clit so swollen from his constant assault day and night that you have to calm down and remind yourself what good its doing for him. He hasn't touched the white powder in weeks.

He's wondered where you've gone when he sees the bathroom light illuminate under the door. He knocks a few times, then raps harsher with his fists, calling out your name. You tell him you just need a minute. The makeshift locks on the bathroom door of Frankie's apartment isn't designed to keep an ex militant out, and he just pushes it forward with enough force that it gives way and he let's himself in. You go to cover yourself when he pulls the shower curtains away, but the same needy expression on his face as he narrows in to the slit between your legs has you aching once again. It's Pavlovian, the way he stares, practically drooling, hands twitching by his side, sending signals to your cunt to start dripping for his appetite. He spins you around so your cheek is smothered against tile, ass out towards him, not caring about the water drenching his baseball cap, grey shirt and pants as he kneels on the shower floor and puts his face between your legs. He moans when his lips start sucking on your nub, tongue thrusting in and out of your hole. He keeps you in your spread position with his arms holding your waist, making their way to spread your ass for him to dive further in, knees between your heels. You reach one arm back, knocking his cap off as you card your fingers through his damp hair, gripping it when you cum and grind yourself back on his scruffy face.

He's otherwise so gentle, so soft spoken, but when he gets between your legs, something primal takes over and you can hardly recognize him.

Sometime in the evening while you were watching a movie, you see his knee bouncing next to you. You has snapped at him earlier and refused his hunger when he peppered kisses all over your neck, down your back, then tried to yank your pants down while you were cooking dinner for the two of you, nearly burning your arm on the stove from such force.

You hated that you had outright refused him for the first time, but the truthfully the swollenness between your legs needed rest before he wrecked you again. He's biting his lip so hard, stealing glances at you before rubbing his hair and shifting his cap back on.

You instead take your top off, having gotten comfortable enough to go without a bra when it was just the two of you. Frankie is a bit shocked, only used to seeing you strip your pants first before anything else.

You crawl over to him before sitting in his lap, thighs spread over his. He swallows the lump in his throat, unable to take his eyes off of your tits right in front of him. His legs are still bouncing in agitation, the movement making your breasts jiggle right in front of him. He groans, licking his lips, breathing heavily.

"She needs a break, Fish," you said quietly, your soft and small hands seeking his big and callous ones, pulling them up over your waist before letting them settle on your cups.

He doesn't hesitate or ask further, head leaning forward and lips immediately latching on to your nipple. He moans, eyes closed as he sucks around the areola, tongue swirling your pebble as he kneads them in his hands.

You're trying so hard not to grind down on his cock, instead sitting upright on your knees so you're not fully resting your damp panty-covered crotch against the tent in his pants. The position is more head level with your tits, but he doesn't like that. He grips your hips to bring you flush against him, gasping out when you instinctually start rocking your hips steadily against his clothed length.

He noticed how heavily your chest is flexing, glaring up at you to see your brows furrowed, face tilted towards the ceiling trying not to cum on him. He cups his hands against your cheeks and brings you in for a sweet kiss, his lips slotting perfectly against yours as his hands return to palming your breasts. He presses his forehead against yours so your eyes meet, goosebumps wracking your whole body at the lust behind his eyes, and something more you couldn't place. "So good to me, querida. Perfect lips"—he gently pecks your lips—"perfect tits"—then a generous kiss to each of your breasts—"my perfect girl." You could smell the scent of your pussy on his lips, as if they'd be stained there now. Kissing your lips, your throat, collarbone, down the valley of your breasts, and erect nipples, and all the way back up again, was enough to keep his mouth busy and his craving subsided. And it worked almost as well, the two of you cumming sticky and wet against one another in your underwear with heavy sighs and sated eyes; you had calmed him down enough to get him to remove his clothes and put on a fresh pair of boxers before tucking him to his own bed with your favorite blanket.

As you tip toed into the bathroom to prep for a bath, you stared at your naked reflection: how swollen, and red your breasts were, covered in raised bite marks the shape of Frankie's jaws. Among your new scars are the faded scratches and bruises of Frankie's fingertips on your waist, stomach and lower back from how incessantly he devours you while his face is buried in your sopping pussy, like he had to sink his claws into you so you wouldn't slip away as he feasted. You look like you were attacked by a passionate lion.

His sweet nothings every time he stared into your eyes was what really turned you on. You tell yourself that it was just the withdrawal symptoms talking. That he was basically just high on a new drug.

-

To you, it must have looked like Frankie's craving were only getting worse with how increasingly frequent his lips found themselves attached to your body. In truth, his desire for coke steadily grew less, and it wasn't the replacement of the powder that he was seeking from you but rather the insaitability of finally having you that grew stronger.

The rest of boys noticed the effects you're having on Frankie too. They see it when he meets them for a drink every other Saturday, the way he anxiously taps his foot under the table, glancing around like he's unsure what to do, where to go, because he can't sit still. It's the signs of his cravings kicking back in, and they're all worried at first. But it's not until you up show later and slide into the booth next to him that they notice: Frankie casually drapes his arm around your shoulders like he always did—that part was normal. But what was new is how they could visibly see Frankie's heart rate slow, the way he slumped against the bench and completely calmed down from just your presence.

They also couldn't help but notice the way his eyes raked you with a mix of lust, love, and obsession, his dark gaze never once leaving the sight of you the entire night. All the while you laughed and chatted with them about your week, oblivious to the change in demeanor of your friend from just a few months ago.

You assured the boys that you two weren't fucking—and it was true, you hadn't slept with him once. albeit a few blow jobs, it was exclusively just Frankie eating you out or kissing. You were very hopeful that his cravings were going to go away soon since its the longest he's been off coke. You were even talking to your old landlord to see if your old apartment a few blocks away still had openings since you'd be moving out of Frankie's place soon. Santi couldn't help but see Frankie's dejection, his arm sliding away from you as he excused himself to get more beer.

By the end of the night, Frankie was drunk out of his mind. Will suggested he slow down so he wouldn't pass out before he could walk home. It sounded like a good plan, until Francisco glanced over to the bar and saw you sitting there and smiling at a guy who was flirting with you. Fish took a giant gulp of his beer, downing the entire jug before slamming it on the table and striding out of the booth towards you. He overheard the guy asking if you had a ride home tonight.

"She comes home with me. Every. Night," he slurred, his sweaty palm skimming possessively over your jean-clad thigh and snaking between your legs, face coming so close to you that your noses slide against each other. Frankie's eyes bore into yours with so much desire, it bordered on range. You knew those were his craving eyes. The pungent smell of alcohol on his breath made you flinch as he tried to pull you in for a kiss. You quickly tell the confused guy that he's your roommate and you need to get him home immediately. You could barely finish excusing yourself from the stranger before Frankie was dragging you out of the bar. You managed to wave to the others, making a drinking gesture and pointing to Frankie before being yanked into the street.

He was stumbling all over the place, breath uneven as you hoisted him up to lean against you, eventually making it through his apartment entrance and turning the key to unlock his unit.

With a renewed sense of urgency, Frankie slammed the door close behind him and pinned you up against it, his hands roaming your body as his mouth desperately sought yours. "Craving," he mumbled against your open lips. "Need"—tongue forcing its way into your mouth, he nipped at your lower lip, sucking on it before releasing with a pop— "need you," he panted.

"I know, I know—Jesus Fish. I'm—gonna help—gonna take care of you—" you breathed, ashamed of how quickly you could feel your panties dampen. It never bothered him though, and only encouraged his sweet tooth more. You weren't nearly as drunk as him, but your few margaritas made you extremely susceptible, even welcoming, to his touch.

You hummed into his shoulder when his hard bulge rubbed purposefully against your covered core. He bit your earlobe as he fisted your low-neck shirt before pulling it down roughly, the fabric tearing away. You gasped, ready to scold him but he pressed his mouth on you again, teeth clashing, his hands slotting down your body to pinch, grope, scratch at any bit of skin he could get.

"So—so good t'me. Always taking—such good care of me, cariño."

His fingers dip into your ass and hoist you up so he's carrying you, your arms and legs wrapped securely around him as he boldered through his apartment, kicking his door open before tossing you on the bed, watching you bounce. You never break eye contact as you unbutton your jeans at the same time Frankie pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it aside to unfasten his belt and zipper.

Clambering over you to reseal your lips, you breath in his scent, hands exploring his tone arms, down his chest and muscle middle all the way to the little pooch of tummy hanging. His hands gripped your jeans and pulled them along with you down the length of the bed, bringing you to the edge, his grip pushing up on the back of your thighs so your knees are digging against your rib cage, pulsing pussy exposed at his mercy. "I fuckin' love this pussy, querida," he growled before burying his face between you folds for the thounsandth time. "So fuckin' wet for me," he mumbled against your thigh, nipping at the skin.

He ate you out with precision, eyes hungry watching you, determined to make you fall apart quickly. He wasn't doing it for his own taste, but the sheer satisfaction of watching you writhe for him, knowing your body inside out as the only one who could get you like this. He's languidly thrusting two fingers in and out. You didn't even need to be stretched: he'd practically been prepping you for months now. You're crying out into the air as you cum, hips bucking against his nose with your heels digging into his shoulder blades. Frankie pulls away, kissing your stomach and up your tits before making you taste yourself on his lips.

The feeling of his cock nudging your entrance make your once dazed eyes go wide and alert. He pauses, suddenly worried. He can't read your expression, time dragging out too long and it scares the fuck out of him that he's taking it too far, that you didn't agree to this.

He had wanted to tell you everything right then: how he dreams of you riding him, or when he fists his cock in the shower when you're at work to the thought of what your tight walls would feel like wrapped around him when first violates you, how he automatically gets aroused now when he just sees you or smells your laundry, or admitting how many times he's actually cum in his pants without you noticing when he is buried between your legs, dying to have you cum around his cock instead of his tongue.

It's not until you sense his hesitation that you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close, sharing the same breath of air, nodding as your calves hook over his ass and squeeze his hips, the tip of his flush cock slipping in to your wet heat.

You both sigh heavily into each other's mouth when he takes charge again and thrusts fully inside you. He scrunches his eyes closed, forehead dipping down to your breast bone to revel in the overwhelming feeling of the tight space inside you.

You warmly caress his hair to bring him back up to you, kissing him and whispering, lips trembling, "Don't—don't think about it. Just... just use me."

His heart sank: You probably just thought this was another hit for him.

He didn't want to think about the fact that you were everything he'd needed in that moment, the image of perfection beneath him beautifully laid out for his eyes, his touch, but not for his soul. He gritted his teeth, pulling out then slamming back in, jolting your whole body up the mattress. It was fast, rough, and not at all how he wanted your first time to be with him, but he couldn't control his urges. He was gasping loudly as he fucked you, your cunt gushing around his member, the obscene sound of slick and skin slapping skin echoing in his otherwise empty apartment.

He brought his thumb to rub messy circles on your clit, sending you into a spasm of praises and expletives, but the most satisfying sound was his name repeated over and over again.

He barely manages to pull out before jerking his cock only twice and creaming all over your folds and clit. Groaning in post orgasmic bliss, he watches you heaving and shaking, filthy pussy covered in his seed. Half of his mind is only working now as he slides back down to lap you clean with his mouth, his own saltiness filling his throat, fingers scissoring inside to get your juices flowing, obsessed with the sight in front of him: your back arched off the bed, heels digging into his lower back as his hands pinning your hips down flat so he can work his mouth over you. And then you're cumming again, so angelic on his tongue, your sweet moans going right to his dick, hardening once again as he ruts into the mattress. He nips your clit and sucks, reluctant to pull away as he lines up and splits you open. You scream out, and if it weren't for the way your barely-recovered battered walls kept sucking him back in, he'd be worried you're in pain. His hands hook under your lower back, lifting you off the bed as he plows into your squelching cunt over and over again.

Youre both covered in a thin layer of sweat, the pillows and comforter of his bed strewn haphazardly around the floor as he dominates you. The headboard slammed recklessly agains the wall, and neither of you cared about your neighbors trying to sleep at 1 in the morning. He ignores the oversensitivity of his cock and your clit, forcing you both into an unexpected climb of another orgasm like it was a primal need.

It was happening without warning; he should be asking for permission, but he knew you took the pill, and he's been dying to release inside you from the moment you first let him put his lips on you. You're cumming on his cock again, hips bucking and grinding against him without your clit being touched, and he was done for.

With a harsh cry, he climaxes again, his length flooding your womb with ribbons of white. His arm shoots in front of him, flat on the bed next to your ear to hold himself up so he didn't crash down on you as his hips jerked, pushing his seed deeper in to you.

He rested most of his weight on top of you, labored breaths combined into one. He kisses the top of your nose, whispering "thank you," unsticking your sweaty bodies as he rolls you two over to have you lying on top, your head next to his. He pats your hair over your ear, pebbling your forehead and eyelids in kisses. His cock twitched in your spent heat, cum leaking out and dripping down to his balls and on the bed.

"Glad I—could...help..." you mumbled, eyes already closed as you drifted into sleep.

His softening dick slipped from your pussy, warm hands wiping you with his shirt before settling you gently on a pillow. He watched the gentle rise and fall of your breaths, naked and fast alseep on his bed. He pulled his sheets higher to your shoulder, his heart beating faster at the way you snuggled further into his pillow.

Frankie stared at the ceiling for hours, hand on his forehead in anguish, wondering how the fuck he was supposed to tell you it wasn't cocaine he was craving last night.

- - - -

Part 2: Crash

Series masterlist

[askdiscordwhooves]

This update was drawn by me, @jitterbugjive

I want to address one thing that I KNOW some people are going to complain about because they've already complained about if it would happen, and that’s The Doctor and Derpy getting together in the end. I understand the concerns. This is in no way meant to say ‘your abusers will eventually change for the better if you just say the right things to them’. This isn’t that kind of story. These are special circumstances that DO NOT EXIST in real life where the abuser was under MAGICAL mind control. That’s not who he actually is and when he’s himself he’s not remotely an abuser. He is safe from having a relapse, the curse is gone and over with because the core Discord was killed while the fragment left over in their universe has been reformed.

 Real abusers are not under any kind of puppetry or mind control when they do what they do, and no not even getting drunk counts as this because when someone is an abusive drunk they’re still choosing to get drunk when they are well aware of what they do when under the influence. If The Doctor did any of this abuse on his own terms, I wouldn’t have let them get back together. I’m an abuse survivor, I know better than that. When you try to compare completely fantasy scenarios that can’t happen in real life to.. Well, real life, you’re kind of reaching at straws at that point. Besides, this relationship wasn’t automatically better just because he returned to normal. Both of them suffered damage and trauma and both needed to navigate around it to be able to trust one another again. If there’s any kind of comparison to make, it’d be more like a loved one suffering a psychotic episode and doing horrible things they’d never do in their right mind. And some people are able to understand and forgive, while others are not. The pain of having a psychotic episode and saying and doing things that hurt people is really hard to overcome, it’s hard to trust yourself and it can be hard to make amends. But a psychotic episode does not dictate who a person is. It just doesn’t. And that’s the closest thing to reality this story is. I tried to handle this as best I could, because in my line of work recovery is the most important thing and I understand that someone coming out of a bad episode needs support and compassion (Unless they’re a terrible person in general) and there have been extreme cases where perfectly good people end up going as far as murder- even murdering their own children, but their loved ones are able to reason that they were sick and they are going to suffer great pain upon realizing what they’d done, and they are going to seek help. Maybe you wouldn’t be able to forgive someone who did terrible things in a psychotic state, and that’s within your right, but it doesn’t mean people who can forgive are any less valid. Listen, if a husband can be capable of not blaming his wife for killing their kids in a psychotic state (a very real event that happened rather recently, simply google “wife psychosis news killed children husband forgives” and you’ll find it), it's perfectly reasonable that someone can forgive someone who was under magical mind control.

If you are in a physically abusive relationship, you need to get out of it. The likelihood of this person changing for the better is extremely low, and you can’t cling to the idea of the rare few people who manage to work through these kind of things. Those are very special circumstances and in my opinion if there’s a relapse into violence after making genuine efforts to change, that should be the end of it once and for all. It shouldn’t be happening to begin with, it should not be tolerated. You matter, you deserve to be treated with kindness and compassion. Never let anyone tell you or make you feel otherwise. Please take care of yourselves, and DO NOT use this story as a basis for how to manage your own relationships, no matter how much you might think you see yourselves in it. This is fiction, and the scenarios in this story do not happen in real life. If you can’t discern reality from fiction, that is all on you, not me.

[peachyogurtwithchocolate]

any (dad) shane headcannons?

Shane SDV Dad Headcannons

-----------------------------

A/n: Totally! Sorry this took a few days, finals season is really kicking my ass lol

My requests are open to practically any fandom and trope/type of fic, so dont be afraid to ask!!

As always, these are just my opinions. Feel free to leave any of your thoughts in the comments!

Warnings: General spoilers of Shane's heart events, alcohol and addiction (let me know if i missed any!)

-----------------------------

I think that Shane would be very hesitant to become a father. After losing himself once he finished high school, he just never really saw himself in the position to have a child

Shane would be internally freaking out if he found out that a one night stand or hookup got pregnant. He really wouldnt think that he was ready or that it would be a good idea for him to raise the child.

Although he may voice his opinions about wether he wanted to keep it or not, he would never force the other parent to do something against their will.

In a committed relationship, however, I think that Shane would be significantly more open to the idea of children. Dont get me wrong, he would still be super anxious about it but definitely in less of a panicked state.

As soon as Shane found out he was going to be a father, he tried to quit drinking. Although he might not have succeeded the first time he tried to get help, he would not stop trying.

I think that Shane would even go to the extent of setting up a rehab plan with Harvey and have a monthly check in. Even though he literally hate getting judged for his issues, he would do anytning to be the best father he could be.

Once the child was born, Shane got way more involved with life in general. I think that after a while he would even go out of his way to show off his kid.

The proudest father ever. His kid managed to take their first steps? He's got a picture of it hanging on the bedroom wall. They kicked a ball for the first time? He doesn't care that they missed; he immediatly picked them up and started cheering them on.

I think that it would take him maybe a year or so after the child is born to be fully recovered from his addiction. Recovery from such a prominent problem takes a lot of time, so he would really try as hard as possible to stay away from relapsing.

After taking care of Jas for just about her whole life, he learnt a TON of skills that nobody else would really know, especially as a first time parent. He knows every way to change diapers or even just trick the kid into going to bed a little early every once in a while.

I think that on occasion Shane would have almost a happy but sad ish cry about his kid(s) if that makes sense? Like he's so proud of who they've become but he's also do disappointed that it took a child to get him to battle his addictions.

Not every day would be great, however. Shane would probably get overwhelmed very easily during the early stages of his recovery. Some days I do genuinely think that Shane would raise his voice at his kid(s)

If this does ever happen, however, he would immediately regret it when he saw their eyes well up with tears. He would apologize and try to comfort them, if they allowed it

I think that something similar may happen with his partner at this time, as well. He just gets so tired and mentally exhausted when he's in recovery that it's difficult to keep his cool around the people that he loves.

Overall, though, I think that Shane would be a pretty kick-ass parent. He really does care about his kid(s), even if he does struggle to express it every once in a while. He would be very involved in their life once he got sober. Not a single sports game would be missed if he could help it.

[kylejsugarman]

hey I lurk for your Breaking Bad content. please give me all of your Jesse in Alaska/recovery headcanons. I need it like I need air.

jesse in alaska.......where do i even begin 😔 im going to avoid lingering too much on my alaska oc's and that little world (tldr for newcomers: jesse gets to haines, starts working at a repair/custom shop called carvings owned by sheila, and befriends and falls in love with the local vet demi who is raising her niece baby) just because there are Plenty of those posts and i want to focus more on jesse himself

this is one ive talked about before, but its just so precious to me, and thats jesse getting into cooking. at first, him learning how to do it is out of pure necessity. the canned food that ed left him only lasts for a few weeks and the prepackaged stuff at the store is all queasily redolent of the "treats" (<- meager sustenance) that were dropped into his cage, so he picks up a box of dry pasta and looks at the recipe for chicken penne printed on the box. it has all the steps, the ingredients. he was always good at following a recipe. jesse dutifully buys the stuff and what begins as him robotically following the text later on in his small, dim kitchen starts to feel. Good. there's no harsh fumes or chemical burns. he doesnt have to measure the garlic down to a hundredth of a gram. he has a recipe to follow—something to guide him—but nothing awful is going to happen if he experiments a little. if he deviates. and he isn't making poison. he's making something Good. for so, so long, jesse only Destroyed and when he did create, it was poison. now he gets to do what he wants. he gets to make good. that chicken penne is the first thing he eats in weeks that actually has flavor—or maybe he's letting himself Taste again. jesse starts cooking more and more, using those supermarket recipes and eventually recipes that he prints off from the public library computers, and even once it becomes a part of his daily routine, he never loses that weird excitement for it. there's the satisfaction of successfully executing a task even with his memory issues and adhd, but also the excitement of realizing over and over that he can do what he wants.

jesse thinks he's "done" with drugs when he gets to alaska purely because he hasn't been able to use and doesnt have immediate access to anything stronger than alcohol or tobacco, but he quickly realizes that he does not have any other kind of coping mechanism ready to deploy or way to sufficiently distract himself once he's physically and mentally well enough to Be Aware. alcohol doesnt seem to "work" fast enough. he thinks over and over about hiring a sex worker or finding a bar somewhere so he can have sex with and fall asleep next to a warm, living body. he drives for hours and sometimes hits the brakes hard on the icy road when theres no one else out there, letting himself skid uncontrollably and hoping he crashes. he wants to start a fight with a stranger. he wants to hug a stranger. and he does end up using drugs again, several times. i mean he's a severely traumatized addict arriving in a new location with zero support. it's not a failure, it's not irreversible backsliding: it's just the reality of what being in this terrifying, vulnerable situation would be like for jesse. for a long time, he sees these relapses as signs of weakness and that Certain People were right about him being a pathetic junkie with no will or value, but as he starts meeting people and finding new ways to be happy and getting the right treatment for his various issues and sometimes even sitting in NA church basement meetings because he just needs to be Understood, jesse comes around to the idea that addiction is not a moral failing and sees his life as worthy enough to safely and healthily preserve.

lightning round!! jesse decides once he arrives to grow his hair and facial hair out some to look less like his old mugshot, but also because as soon as the cold winter air touches his shaved head, he basically reverts to spongebob and patrick duct-taping fur off of sandy to survive in her dome during winter. he stops to stare in awe at eagles and whales and moose even after years and years of living in alaska. his sense of smell is nearly totally destroyed from cooking without protection, but he still always buys lemon scented soap and cleaning stuff because lemon was his aunt ginny's favorite scent. he reads up on a lot of first-aid on the public library computers, sometimes out of a sense of frantic compulsion or guilt, sometimes out of legitimate curiosity. when he drives home from doctors appointments or NA meetings, he plays the music in his car so loud that his seat shakes. the people of haines know that mr driscoll can be a little cagey and will flinch at the sound of his own laugh, but they also know that he brakes for animals and carves beautiful gadrooning and buys ten of whatever the kids are selling to raise money for the band or their scout troop. and they like him quite a bit :)

[nekrosdolly]

healing

leon comforts you after you relapse.

cw; BULIMIA, eating disorder talk and mentions, vomit, afab!reader, unspecified age gap, older!leon, alcoholism mentions and references, recovery, relapsing, binging mentions. please, under any circumstances, do not read if any of this may trigger you.

a/n; this was a request from an anon, and though i told myself i wasn't taking requests, something in me felt compelled to do this one!

you really did try, but recovery has never been linear. leon has told you that same thing before, too. with his alcoholism, it was the same story. he'd do great for a few days, weeks even, and then it would all crumble at the mere scent of alcohol. all in all, he knows that while recovering, someone is more fragile. sensitive, so to speak. you're no different.

you'd been doing great so far- no binging, no vomiting, and less exercise. you hadn't been so hypervigilant about how you look. your boyfriend, leon, has been a great help. he's always reassured you whenever you had doubts about your appearance, lapses, or whatever comes up, he's there. he knows you've struggled with this for a long time and he doesn't make you feel bad or weird about it, unlike the other people that had come before him.

he's different in the way you need, and you appreciate that.

you knew today would be bad, but you still held out hope. even when you woke up to not one, but a few new zits on your face, and your hair awry and seemingly unmanageable. even when you did your skincare routine and somehow your cleanser got in your eyes, which burned like hell. even when the shower randomly went cold and ruined your morning. everything was out of your control and that had triggered something in you. you'd never been much of a control freak.

except for this. where you are now, retching up your breakfast as quietly as humanly possible so as not to disturb leon. but that's the thing with trained agents. their hearing sharpens, their senses heighten, so it's no surprise that after you're done ridding yourself of your stomach's contents, that he's entering the bathroom. and you're still there, kneeling before the toilet with bile coating the innards of your mouth and esophagus, your face sickly and somewhat grey.

he's concerned, as any good boyfriend would be. he grabs a washcloth without a word and wets it, then kneels down beside you to wipe the bile off your lips. to you, it feels like a waste of effort. to him, he's showing he cares.

"i'm sorry." are the first words to leave your mouth, "i said i was going to get better a-and now i'm not."

"we've had this talk before, baby." he murmurs, setting the washcloth in the sink.

"c'mon, let's get you some water." he pulls you up from the floor with gentle and warm hands, then flushes the toilet's contents.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

in the kitchen, you rinse your mouth out with the cup of water he's provided for you in a desperate attempt to get rid of the bitter yet sour taste lingering on your tongue, and the feeling coating your gums. he rubs your back slowly, his warmth seeping through the thin material of your shirt. you haven't changed out of your pajamas since you woke up, and by the likes of how the day is going, you aren't going to. he presses a kiss to your hair and wraps his arm around your waist, trying to make you feel at least a little better.

he takes the hand you'd been using to force yourself into throwing up and rinses them off, even though there's nothing on them besides dried saliva (and the slightest bit of stomach acid.) you lean against him, a soft sigh leaving you.

"you know, i'm not mad at you." he says, now patting your fingers dry with a kitchen towel.

you look up at him, a little confused.

"you apologized earlier."

"oh."

"yeah. i just want you to know that i'm not mad at you for relapsing. y'know, it happens, and i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about doing it either." his words somehow bring you a small sense of comfort, that familiar warmth in your chest sparking.

"i'm glad you didn't." you mutter, a slight rasp to your voice.

he chuckles dryly, "yeah, so am i. it's hard, i know, but you can do it. someday, you won't even think about it anymore."

you shake your head softly. "it's not the same as drugs, or alcohol. it's rewired my brain."

he nods his understanding.

"well, whatever it is, you're not alone in this. i'll always be here to support you in any way you need me to." he gives your side a small squeeze and you rest your head against his shoulder.

you know, deep down, that he's trying his best to help. at times, namely today, you find that he's succeeded in his mission. he's seen you at your worst as well as your best and he's stayed. the promise ring he gave you a few months prior proves that he's more than likely staying for the rest of your days.

that thought, in and of itself, warms you up a little more.

[p-i-r-culture]

! PLEASE READ THIS POST ALL OF THE WAY BEFORE INTERACTING !

---

Terminology and Definitions

Problematic in recovery - a term used to describe a person who's considered "problematic" in online spaces (eg. Tiktok, Youtube, Tumblr, etc.) and is wishing to end their problematic behavior and rehabilitate. A majority of these people who identify with this label struggle with some sort of mental illness that may have contributed to the behavior and/or their behavior is how they got the disorder. Many of us have also experienced trauma of some sort and used problematic behavior as an unhealthy coping mechanism.

Note: this does not excuse the actions that were done, if someone is doing something they shouldn't, hold then accountable in a way that is beneficial to both you and the person being held accountable. This label was made to address the issues that cancel culture has created over the years, and how those issues have affected people negitively.

Problematic (in terms of online behavior) - having or showing attitudes (such as racial prejudice) or ideas (such as falsehoods) that are offensive, disturbing, or harmful, in this context, it occurs while in online spaces. While the exact cause of this behavior is unknown, a lack of understanding of social cues and norms can play a role, alongside exposure to inappropriate content at a young age that may alter the person's beliefs, and other forms of trauma. Some people who are deemed "problematic" often describe it as an addiction, once you start, it's difficult to stop, though regularly scheduled therapy and medications used to treat the mental illness that is causing the behavior in question can help.

Cancel Culture - a cultural phenomenon in which an individual deemed to have acted or spoken in an unacceptable manner is ostracized, boycotted, shunned, fired or assaulted, often aided by social media. Popular examples of this are the cancelation of Yandere Dev, Melanie Martinez (a recent one), and Vivziepop, along with many others. Originally, cancel culture was used to put an end to dangerous behaviors and to hold celebrities accountable for their harmful actions since the media would often allow their behaviors to go on.

Unfortunately, cancel culture doesn't take into account those who are struggling with mental illness or have neurological disabilities that may impact how they handle specific situations, and as a result, it leads to ableism and stigma, and cancel culture is also rooted in bullying and harassment, which may make the problematic behavior in question worsen and deter the person in question from seeking help and/or changing their behaviors, and in worst cases, it leads to the person taking their own life.

Simple answer: It's anti-recovery and pro-harassment.

For more information on how cancel culture can impact someone, I recommend checking out this video by BreDrawz, as she does a very good job as explaining this topic and how harmful cancel culture can be:

Why this blog?

When I first discovered that my behaviors were considered problematic, and infact were hurting people, I wanted to put and end to it, and all in all try to make myself a better person. Unfortunately, with the rise of Cancel culture, I and many others haven't been able to get the resources needed to make the necessary changes to myself, and this, combined with the already existing ableism I've faced since I was a child, had unfortunately caused me to frequently relapse, further pushing the stigma and worsening my mental health.

It eventually got so bad to where I had begun to contemplate taking my own life, and it was only because I discovered that I infact was redeemable that I didn't do it.

On my journey to recovery, I had discovered that I was not the only one dealing with this, as many others had been dealing with the same issues I was, and that made me feel less alone.

I hope to provide that same feeling of community through this blog.

DNI (DO NOT INTERACT)

Anyone who fits into these categories: Ableism (especially against neurodivergent people and anyone with "evil" mental illnesses, such as NPD or BPD), Racism, Sexism/misogyny, Homophobia/ transphobia, Antisemitism, Pro-genocide of any kind, Nazis and Neo-Nazis, pro-"life", or any sort of discrimination that I haven't listed here.

People who justify literal bullying as "criticism" (seriously, it never helps, there's a difference between actual criticism that can help someone and bullying)

Personality disorder Abuse believers (eg: Narcissist abuse believers)

People who make mental illness look like a quirky trend (Eg: saying "bpd = beautiful princess disorder", "I'm so OCD" etc.)

Anti-recovery (especially when it comes down to mental illness)

Cancel culture participants

About the Blog Owner

Hi there! My name is Luca(s) Krager, but you might know me as Nozomi Kaizoku. I'm a 17 year old AuDHD and BPD content creator. My pronouns are he/they/it. I'm most known for my artwork and contributions to the Tony Crynight community

For more bout me, here is my main blog! :3

@nozomi-kaizoku

Other blogs to check out if you're interested!

@borderline-culture-is

@narcissist-culture-is

@/aspd-culture (they have asked not to be tagged in this post)

@cluster-b-culture-is

@hpdcultureis

@autismcultureis

@adhd-culture-is

@ndcultureis

[dandylovesturtles]

pls talk to me about 100 Feet and a World Away Raph's recovery process, if he relapses sometimes or what it's like for him in general

Sure! This got long so I had to put it behind a read more lol

So keep in mind nothing about this part of the AU is intended to be realistic haha, in reality Raph would need years of multiple kinds of therapies, including behavioral therapy and speech therapy, to get anywhere near what you could consider recovered, but I'm fast tracking this because we want Raph to get his happy ending with everyone else!

Some content warnings here for depersonalization, dissociation, etc

During his captivity Raph has very few and fleeting moments of lucidity - even when he does manage to "surface," once he realizes what's happening and that he's alone he pretty much shuts down again immediately. This doesn't mean Raph is gone, though! He'll later say it was like he was underwater, able to hear and see things but always muffled, smeary, and understanding would slip through his grasp. When Raph sleeps, he often dreams of the things that have happened to him in abstract ways and uses this to process - something that he hates when he's still captive but which becomes invaluable once he's free and trying desperately to get back to his family.

Raph also isn't entirely alone in his head, at least not always! He gets a... visitor from time to time. This visitor does everything they can to help Raph in the time they can spend with him, and is the main reason why Raph hasn't completely lost touch with things like speech by the time he finally manages to regain lucidity.

Raph's recovery process is very, very slow. For the first few weeks he doesn't seem to entirely realize that he's been freed - it's only the smell of his family nearby, or the sounds of their voices, that keep him calm. He still acts very animalistic during that time and basically can't be left alone at all. All of the family is afraid that he may be beyond recovery (though they are still resolved to care for and love him no matter what), and they all have different reactions to this. For Splinter this is another heartbreak on top of a pile, and he has a tendency to overly baby Raph to the point that it feels more like how one would treat a pet at times, though he does constantly remind himself of his son's personhood to combat this instinct. Leo has known Raph is like this for a long time, but he's not dealing with anything well and he doesn't deal with this well, either - he's in mourning even though he refuses to say it. Mikey is openly optimistic that they'll get Raph back, but this also means he tends to get his hopes up about a new thing to try, and then gets disappointed when it doesn't work. Only Donnie seems completely unbothered by the "new Raph," and basically just talks to Raph like he does the others, and seems to enjoy having someone he can ramble to about science without end. Because of this, Raph bonds with Donnie the fastest, and when Raph finally manages to talk again, his first words are to Donnie.

Through his dreams, Raph comes to know that he's safe, and slowly the things around him start to get clearer. He starts to recognize his family members by sight as much as smell, he starts acting less and less animalistic and starts to manage basic tasks, like feeding himself with utensils. He starts talking in brief words and sentences, and his vocabulary builds rapidly with the help of his visitor and the dreams and Donnie talking to him endlessly. He also has brief periods of lucidity throughout this time, but to his frustration he can't quite hang on to them - like his muscles have to rebuild their strength to acknowledge reality.

Once he feels safe enough, Raph will finally manage a period of lucidity that lasts longer than a few minutes to an hour. There also may be some mystic stuff that happens in here to help him finally overcome his last mental blocks.

And then it's like he finally breaks the surface for real this time. He's not underwater anymore. He knows and understands everything around him. At least as well as his brothers do, anyway.

It takes him more time and stability to finally get back to a person who resembles the Raph we have in canon (though never quite the same), but he makes improvements all the time.

He does have relapses occasionally after this point, usually if he's left alone without any warning or if something severely startles him. If he doesn't get enough sleep or if he's sick or overwhelmed he can sometimes slip into more animalistic ways of acting, too. In those cases, the others just have to ground him, by talking to him and reminding him of where he is and what's going on until he feels safe enough to "surface" again. And eventually he learns new coping mechanisms and ways of feeling safe that don't necessitate completely dissociating from reality.

Thanks for the ask!

[bobtheacorn]

k here's that leosagi wip;

An inconsiderate beam of sunlight reaches all the way into the room first thing in the morning and hits Leo directly face. Living underground for his entire life has not acclimated him to such horrendous conditions. He groans softly and turns, pulling the blanket up over his head. He reaches across the futon and finds a cold spot on the bare mattress.

Usagi is gone.

Leo groggily lifts his head. The futon is still down because Leo is half across it, but the duvet has been folded up and placed in the corner, the pillow Usagi used set neatly on top of it. Leo's heart does a funny flip, a cold spike creeping up along his spine. What day is it? Did he leave…? Leo rolls over the other way, squinting into the sunlight.

Usagi is out in the yard doing his katas.

He's been at it long enough that he's gotten warm and slipped out of the top half of his kimono. It hangs around his waist, the long triangle-dappled sleeves trailing as he moves like flowing water from one complex form to the next. Willow Branch and Young Willow glint in the morning sun, both bright as fire. They make almost no sound as they slice the air in tandem. Usagi never once loses his footing, off-balances, or over-reaches with either blade. His white fur is bright with a sheen of sweat, the muscle underneath slightly more pronounced.

Leo makes himself comfortable on the pile of pillows and lays there appreciating the view.

Objectively, because Usagi's unique regimen is like nothing Leo has ever seen, and Leo has watched a ton of material-arts / dual-wielding training videos in the vast fathoms of the World Wide Web. The past couple of years, after the Invasion specifically, he's really leaned into the meditations and performing katas in the morning and breathing exercises and herbal teas. They helped give him small goals to reach when his recovery was hard. They became routines he found comfort in whenever he relapsed…..

Anyway, he's also appreciating the view less objectively, because each shift of weight, each subtle turn of the wrist, each tensing muscle and steady exhalation, pronounces the control Usagi has over literally every movement. His burgundy eyes are sharp and focused, his mouth slightly open, unbound ears catching the wind.

Leo chirps.

Usagi's ears twitch in Leo's direction. His eyes follow a moment later. He relaxes his stance and drops his swords to his sides, smirking. Bastard.

"You need something?"

"Uuuuh, who what me?" Leo asks, realizing that he chirped for attention (and Usagi gave it to him, and that's not fair, it just adds to the all the bubbling warmth maliciously filling up Leo's chest). He throws the duvet aside and grabs for his pants, wiggling into them while Usagi laughs at the spectacle Leo makes on purpose. "Fine, y'know what, yeah, whatever! Hey, we haven't sparred in a while, you wanna?"

"You want to spar?" Usagi asks, surprised but smiling. He sheathes his wakizashi first and then his katana. Leo hops off the porch. "We don't have any bokken."

"S'fine, we can do hand-to-hand. Unless you're chicken."

Leo tucks his fists into his armpits and clucks, strutting out into the yard where there's a little more space. Usagi doesn't rise to the bait. Leo hadn't really expected him to. He's worked out some of that hot, mean temper from when they were kids - or rather, Katsuichi worked it out of him, with a shoot of bamboo. Usagi is making that face that means he doesn't know whether to frown in disapproval at Leo's spectacular display of immaturity or grin because of it, and calmly pulls his swords from his belt and sets them aside on the porch.

He takes the time to shrug back into the top of his kimono and straighten it out as he moves to stand across from Leo.

"Why don'chu just take that the rest of the way off so you can actually move, huh?"

"Why don't you worry about your own maneuverability?"

"Oh babe, I've so got maneuverability~"

"We'll see. So what are the rules?"

"I dunno." Leo starts stretching, pulling one arm across his chest and then the other, twisting as much as he's able to within his shell. He'll regret it if he doesn't, but it's also for show. He's so unbothered. "Whoever disrobes the other wins?"

"Leo, that's vulgar!" Usagi says, but laughs.

"Right yeah it's way less vulgar to pin each other to the ground and -"

"Take this seriously!"

"Make me a better offer," Leo laughs.

"First to land three blows wins."

"Booorrringg, but fine!"

"And you can't pull back into your shell," Usagi adds, "Or teleport."

"Ppppfffffine fine lets go!"

Leo has done the stretching. He's goaded his opponent. He bounces on his toes, from foot to foot. He stops being silly long enough to indulge Usagi with a bow to officiate the start of the match, and then he charges right in. Between Leo's unique brand of turtle luck and Usagi's god-given propensity to always find or purposefully put himself into a Situation, they both tend to attract an abnormal amount of Peril - but they attract different flavors. Leo is used to fighting suped-up mystic villains that vary on the Homicidal scale, not Some Guy with a Sword (optional) who will absolutely kill him if given the chance.

Leo knows he has the bioengineered advantage of strength and speed.

He also knows if he doesn't catch Usagi off guard or do something to throw him off his game quickly, Usagi will put him on the ground.

Leo goes for the belt.

[planetamarte]

probably too soon to be thinking about this but i hope shadow gens is like. sega's way of establishing shadow's past for newer fans and the modern era so they can focus on his Present in future media. they've been focusing on his Past since 2001, there's only so much more they can milk out of it. i know what is essentially a mascot character for a big franchise can't get much more character development than what he already got in his first few years, but considering its been 18 real years since he "moved on" in shadow 05, i wanna see more of what the present looks like for him. like alright, our guy went thru his arc of overcoming trauma and coming to terms with his past, so what does his life look like currently? what's he up to, regarding both his mission to protect the planet and outside of that? i can only hope shadow gens will show us some of this kinda stuff, if not in the future.

(the twitter takeovers give us a taste of his day-to-day life with his little comments about the soup kitchen and local convenience stores and the fact that he raises a dark chao - murder of sonic was really good with this too, with the concert tickets bit and his like of chocolate - but i wanna see more of it in a serious and unambiguously canon context yknow?)

sonic team also has a REALLY good chance here to tell a story with shadow about recovery being nonlinear, whether it be in shadow gens or something else in the future. i doubt shadow hasn't relapsed and fallen into slumps where his mental health feels like his worst all over again. i wanna see what it looks like for him to get into slumps like that and come out of them. if they really wanted to they could use this to course-correct his character inconsistencies; tell a story about how ptsd episodes can cause someone to isolate themselves and seem like a completely different person. how the smallest seeming things can trigger someone into episodes like that. my amount of faith in sonic team to actually do something like this is a swinging pendulum, maybe i want a bit too much from canon. those are other topics entirely but it doesn't hurt to hope n i'll sit here n think about this stuff anyway <3

i want shadow to be more than just his Past, essentially. i want his character to be more than just fulfilling maria's wish; him coming to terms with being his own independent person means nothing if he's holding onto her ghost forever, like he's haunting her instead of her doing it to him. regarding the idea of a narrative about nonlinear ptsd recovery, something that goes hand in hand with that is what healing actually looks like. i think a wonderful example of that combined with something from his day-to-day life is the december 2023 sonic channel art of him:

purely headcanon here but i like the idea that this piece isn't him just thinking of maria, but that it's the first time he thinks of her in a while and it doesn't sting like it would've before. maria and shadow's past will always be important to him, it isn't to say i want it all to be disregarded completely. i just want it to be regarded more in a way like this, yknow? maybe he'll fall into an episode that fucks him up every once in a while, but with time they become less frequent and eventually he can think of the past with more acceptance while focusing on the present.

[system-of-a-feather]

Tagging @syscurse with this cause they seem to have more awareness of the final fusion "discourse" and I dont have a thesis statement or any real argument here beyond just casual discussion nor do I know if Im "strawmanning" cause I havent actually seen much of it since M&M's final fusion backlash (+ Im not trying to argue, just share thoughts)

But the common line of "Final Fusion isnt even worth it / isnt even good because you can always resplit" and what not is honestly fucked up and problematic to say in regards to a healing method but on a personal level didnt so much have anything to compare it to in order to highlight it

But as someone who has been working with OCD longer than DID and final fusion, its kind of like saying "Trying to resist / be free from doing your compulsions isn't even worth it because you can always get new compulsions or relapse, even if you free yourself from all the ones you have now, its not like itll stay that way"

Cause - and Im not sure how many chronic long term OCD folks are out there - but for cases like mine where its "high functioning" (ie constant but due to how its done it doesnt impact my day to day as much as it should) and long long long deeply rooted and untreated, a valid settling place for healing is to just integrate and adjust the compulsions to be less intrusive and focus on navigating obsessions and intrusive thoughts better

For some it might just not be worth the time and effort to actually fully stop all the compulsions entirely because - in our case - there are too many, its too deeply rooted in trauma and other disorders, and so reinforced that to do so would be a SHIT ton of work whereas usually we actually are pretty functioning

So if we were to put the community aspect the DID community has onto the OCD "community" then one could say there is "full remission" and "functional OCD" as recovery goals.

And as someone whose happily settled in functional OCD and currently really isnt seeking out full remission (as that would probably be after final fusion) its completely valid to say "Im happy with this level".

Much like DID and splitting though, the OCD brain even after healing is still a brain physically wired in an OCD way and inevitably you are always going to be prone to developing obsessions and compulsions. Does that mean working on freeing yourself from the ones you currently have is pointless? ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Even if you have two weeks, two months, two years, twenty years, forty years and then "relapse" or whatever it is and end up gaining new obsessions / compulsions or splitting a new alter, obtaining that period of ideal and desired healing is an amazing thing.

Healing has ups and downs and works like a tide for almost every disorder and every version of healing. Its not a special thing about DID or final fusion, heck the claim could be made with functional multiplicity and dissociative symptoms and barriers coming back

Idk man, Im mostly rambling thoughts but TLDR healing is a rollercoaster, sometimes its a Disneyland ride sometimes its Six Flags, but there are ups and downs regardless of the disorder and version of healing for an individual and I really think its a bit of a negative nancy and a thought coming from a place of not understanding later stages of healing from people not quite there yet

Anyways, just rambles open mic to anyone who wants to ramble back

[lilas]

mostly spoiler free thoughts on aville going into DT

Avi’li and Erenville get close after ENW

Avi’li is in recovery in Sharlayan for at least a month; he’s not himself, he has a hard time doing basic things without him getting tired, he’s also bored and restless and irritated with everyone around him, and he’s unpacking a lot of trauma that’s culminated over the course of the story

He escapes often to Labyrinthos just to get away from people, and he starts working regularly with Erenville as a result, at first because it’s something to do that isn’t staring into the void and feeling eternity collapse around him, but it becomes a chance for Avi’li to reconnect to nature again, to the earth and life that he fought so hard to preserve

This is the focus of Adventures in Labyrinthos, a little collection of oneshots I’ve been writing on and off; just two strangers getting to know each other, learning about each other, and bonding over their shared interests

They just click and there’s some attraction and crushing there that neither of them is keen to act on

Erenville fully believes this is a short lived thing; they both travel to far flung corners of the world for various reasons, they may never cross paths again; so he’s satisfied leaving things unspoken, enjoys the bubbly feeling for what it is now, and is fine letting it go

Avi’li isn’t interested in maintaining any romantic relationship during this time; he’s focusing on himself, he doesn’t feel quite human sometimes, he doesn’t feel capable of meeting the emotional needs of other people, much less a romantic partner where there’s a higher expectation for reciprocity

He is also in love with Yugiri, and is grappling with where he wants to take their relationship and what feels right for both of them

There is also an element of denying yourself joy as a form of punishment. Avi’li isn’t aware he’s doing this. What is he punishing himself for? I think for him, he feels guilty he’s not… happier? He’s a hero, he saved the world, he acted selflessly….but he can’t return the same joy he sees when he’s thanked or applauded or praised.

Anyway

They reunite again before DT, obviously

Avi’li is better, he’s in a much healthier place after his experiences in the ENW patches

Erenville is considering things now. He and Avi’li will be traveling together for some time, maybe it’s worth it to see where things go?

Avi’li at this point has also concluded his romance with Yugiri; he feels better for it, he misses her, he’ll always be a little in love with her, but it feels better this way

However

His love for Yugiri, him telling her that he doesn’t feel he can be in a relationship right now because of his emotional/mental state—that’s echoing in his mind every time he looks at Erenville

He’s steadfastly ignoring any feelings, but it’s hard because he likes Erenville; theirs is a friendship and a connection Avi’li desperately wants and needs in his life; I don’t think he’s ever been so in tune with someone like this before?

They kiss on the boat to Tural (the boat is free headcanon territory; still in that in between of everything I know to have happened so far, and everything to come)

It happens one evening beneath the stars, talking about nothing, and it’s spur of the moment and amazing until Avi’li ends it

Erenville confesses he likes Avi’li, wants to see where a romantic relationship could go if Avi’li would let them

But Avi’li is afraid and guilty; what if his mental health relapses? What if he hurts Erenville? What about Yugiri? If he can be with Erenville, shouldn’t he go back to Yugiri and try again with her? Doesn’t she deserve that?

So Avi’li rejects him, stating those very reasons, and Erenville is…… understanding but frustrated. What is more frustrating than being rejected not because they didn’t like you back but because of fear and guilt? Because of reluctance to try?

Anyway, this is how we’re starting DT. 😌👍 Where do they go from here? That is to be discovered during MSQ. 🫡

Their dynamics can shift, certain things can happen, anything can impact their relationship so We Will See where they end up by the end of it all. I’ll enjoy the journey no matter the outcome. 💕

[askdiscordwhooves]

Today's update drawn by me, @jitterbugjive

This blog started December 20th in 2011, and so now it ends on December 20th in 2023. An exact 12 years. When I realized how close it was to the blog’s anniversary I decided to make sure the epilogue would post on the anniversary.

I will next be posting a spoiler warning post so anyone who hasn't caught up on the blog will be less likely to be spoiled. The post will also have my final author commentary attached to it which will share more details about the story and what other projects of mine you can follow. I'm hoping to hear feedback on my author post, so keep an eye out for it.

Addiction PSA:

If you or a loved one is struggling with addiction, I highly recommend the SMART Recovery Program. Unlike AA, this program is not based on religious ideas or guilt and shame in regards to your addiction. Instead, it is based on therapy skills and group support, and teaches that things like relapse are not things to be ashamed of, but instead are things to learn from to have a better recovery. While AA will make you feel like you failed for having a relapse, SMART pulls you aside and asks "Alright, why did the relapse happen? What triggered it? What can we do in the future to prevent this from happening again?" and it teaches that every relapse is an opportunity to learn about yourself and what you need to recover. With SMART, you don't need to believe in a higher power, you learn to believe in yourself and your supports.

[insomanic-fanfication]

Could I request an ask on how the batboys (Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian) react to male!reader resorting to drugs after a traumatic event and trying to stop his addiction for them? Like he tries to change for them and even goes as far as to try and tie himself to a chair kind of like the scene from tua with Klaus. (Idk if you do this but I’ve just been thinking about this for a while 😭)

Yes! I do asks along with requests! This is just the first one I have received. I hope this was what you were looking for when sending this ask! CW: Hard Drug use mentioned, a bit of ableism (mostly out of naivety), mental health issues, panic attacks, Reader triggers PTSD.

__________________Answered Ask Under The Cut_________________

Dick Grayson:

Dick doesn't have much personal experience with drug issues, But he's not blind to why someone would feel the need to resort to them. However, he would be very hurt if you thought you couldn't talk to him about your problems. It won't be anger or disappointment, not towards you, but towards himself. He would feel like he failed you in a way. When you tell him you've been trying to stop, he will do everything he can to get you what you need for your recovery. Will be your number 1 supporter. Will also comfort you as much as he can when you do relapse, telling you, 'It's okay, listen to me, look at me,' cupping your face with his hand, his caring blue eyes looking into your teary ones, 'Don't say that, please. You're not back to where you began. That progress wasn't for nothing.'

Jason Todd:

Jason would have a panic attack; he would try to keep it together but couldn't stop his breathing from quicking or the Adrenaline induced by fear. He couldn't; he couldn't lose someone to drugs again; it would break him. Would pull you into a bear hug, his grip almost suffocating, to try and ground himself with tears rushing down his face. When you tell him you're trying to stop, he would also try to help, but more as a guiding hand. He knows it's something you need to do yourself. Will stay up with you all night, holding your hair or loose clothing as you're throwing up. Kissing your forehead for reassurance while you're venting about the things that caused you to start. 'You're not weak for trying to cope with drugs; it's just a part of human nature.', gently holding your hand so you can't scratch yourself. 'Let's focus on how strong you are right now. You realized you didn't want to use them anymore, and you're trying to get better.'

Tim Drake: Tim hasn't had much experience on any side of drug usage. However, he has experience on the mental health side. The feelings of worthlessness, just wanting to escape from your own head. Just wanting everything to be okay, at least for a second. He would do hours of research, analyzing every recovery case, trying to see which helped the most for the most people. It would help you find ways to cope with your mental health problems, so there's less likely a chance of relapse. If you do or something doesn't work, he will get so angry with himself, calling himself stupid, trying to see why it failed, and then doing more research. He would have you get rid of the rest of the drugs when you were ready, having you put the needles or other methods in the correct places. So you can feel that change within yourself, so you can feel more in control. 'I know that was hard, but you did it. I'm so proud of you.' hugging you firmly with his face resting on your neck as you cry, not in sadness but relieve.

Damian Wayne:

Damian, being the youngest, would need more understanding of the situation. 'It's simple!' he yelled, 'Just throw them away and stop using them!? You are in control of yourself; using drugs is just a sign of ill self-control and weakness.' Would throw away your drugs and the method of taking them right then and there. Forcing you to cut cold turkey. At some point, he would vent to Dick about your "Stupidity," and that's who sets the record straight with him. Explaining that isn't how drug addiction works. Dick would get you a medical check-up when Damian told him what happened. Seeing the seriousness, let alone silent boiling anger coming from Dick, would make him realize that he was being an ass. At that point, Damian would isolate himself in his room, disappointed in himself for hurting someone he cared about. He'd sit next to you, a person-size gap between you as guiltlessness fills him. 'I'm..' he paused, trying to find the right words, ' I'm sorry that I did that.' he would continue with eyes still looking towards the ground. 'I didn't understand the severity of the situation; you don't have to forgive me. I just wanted you to know I was sorry for my actions.' After that, he would have his family take care of everything else, and if you let him, he would try to be emotional support.

_____________________________________________________________

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Tags: @n0cturna1-m3 Thought you would like to read this, too, cause I know you love Jason Todd.