#tw abusive mention

[transcowgirlslut]

it's kind of bullshit that people will react with horror to me discussing my fantasies/kinks until i clarify I'm the sub in them. like even my therapist was all like "ohhh it's ok to want to hold power so long as it's consensual" and then clearly relaxed when I clarified I wanted to be the sub.

i love you everyone and with rape kinks, those who want to roleplay kidnapping and abusing someone, i love you i love you i love you. this ain't me fishing for a dom/me to be clear---you are VALUED as a person, outside of your sexual fantasies. I care about you and appreciate you, and there is nothing wrong or bad about you!!!!

[teaboot]

When I was a kid, I regularly lost reading privileges for "having an attitude" and "acting out".

It wasn't as simple as being told not to read during other activities- one of the first times it happened, I remember being six years old, watching my stepfather pull fistfuls of books off my bookshelf and throw them to the floor in a heaping mess while I cried and asked him to stop.

It was weird. Every other adult I knew described me as exceptionally well-behaved, but at home, it was the opposite, and it was blamed on "learning bad habits from that shit you're reading".

Because I couldn't read at home, I spent all my free time at school in the library, reading with my friends.

When I grew up and moved away, I realized that my family life was toxic and abusive, and the "attitudes" I was being punished for were standing up for myself, standing up for my younger siblings, and resisting actual, real-life psychological abuse. Because I'd learned from what I'd read that my family wasn't normal, not like my parents said it was, and in my stories, the heroes were the people who spoke out when it was hard to.

It is insane to me that there are students right now who can't access books. It is insane that books are being outlawed. It is perverse that we are stealing away an entire generation's ability to contextualize their lives, to learn about the world around them, to develop critical thinking skills and express themselves and feel connected to the world or escape from it, whatever and whenever and however they need.

That is not how you raise a compassionate, thoughtful, powerful society.

That's how you process cattle.

It's fucking disgusting.

[cupcakeslushie]

Recovering your autonomy vs Completely cutting yourself off from your support system. FIGHT!

This happens sometime after the ongoing Kendra reunion comic, but not far enough along that the brothers have figured out how to navigate certain landmines.

Donnie is still re-adjusting to communicating his needs in a confident manner. Sometimes he gets a little too worked up, and lets the panic take over. He regrets the yelling later.

…The next morning

[incorrectbatfam]

I hate canon Bruce Wayne hitting his kids so how does he discipline them WITHOUT abuse?

(where's that post about how anything can be a punishment if you frame it as one)

———————

Dick: *breaks the chandelier while swinging from it*

Bruce: *hands him a broom*

Dick: Yeah that's fair.

Bruce: Also you have to use the Batman plate at dinner.

Dick: Please no, I hate that plate.

Bruce: You should've thought about that before.

———————

Tim: *logs into the Batcomputer without permission*

Bruce: And what do you think you're doing?

Tim: I know I've been benched but I just need to—

Bruce: Sit.

Tim: *sits down*

Bruce: *puts on The Bee Movie*

Bruce: If you insist on being down here while injured, then you're gonna watch this in its entirety.

———————

Cass: *blinks*

Bruce: And you think that's an excuse?

Cass: *blinks*

Bruce: We're going for a drive and I'm picking the music.

Cass: *blinks*

Bruce: Maybe you'll take this as a lesson.

———————

Jason: *causes a crime scene*

Jason: Go ahead, punish me. I'll still be right.

Bruce: *takes out a marker*

Bruce: *draws a mustache on Jason's helmet*

Bruce: It'll wash off in three weeks.

Jason: WHAT?!

Bruce: Actions have consequences.

———————

Steph: *breaks protocol*

Bruce: Go change your cape in the car.

Steph: That's not fair!

Bruce: That's the rule.

Steph: *grumbles and puts on a cape that's a slightly different shade of purple from the rest of her suit*

———————

Duke: *sneaks in after curfew*

Bruce: *flicks the light on*

Bruce: Do you know what time it is?

Duke: I can explain—

Bruce: Yogurt. Now.

Duke: But I don't want yogurt.

Bruce: I don't care. Go eat a cup of yogurt and think about what you did.

———————

Damian: *drops his fork at dinner*

Damian: Fuck.

Bruce: *pulls out a straw*

Damian: You wouldn't.

Bruce: *takes a sip of Damian's drink*

Damian: I hate this family.

Dick, eating off the Bat-plate: You and me both.

[theo-7-77]

Sooo...Fuck.

Rant and a small tiny problem under the cut. Don't know if anyone will see this at all but I'm probably gonna be in some serious trouble.

Alrighty. I have two phones; one is my actual, parental locked phone with timers and app locks and everything that I'd like to get rid of. My mom is super protective.

The second is one for just games. Random games I find, those crappy games I like to laugh at while I play, etc etc. Cookie run is namely the biggest game on my 2nd, secret phone with no parental locks at all.

I don't do weird, dumb shit I shouldn't do on my second phone. No mature apps, no mature Google history, etc. Nothing weird, just for jokes and laughs and no parental controls at all.

...the new Motorola (what my actual phone is) update broke Spotify. Literally whenever I play a song, it boots me to my lock screen. If I pause the song, lock screen. Skip, lock screen. Stay on the app too long, lock screen. Play a different playlist? Say it with me, lock screen. It is nice staring at David Tennant's face though, but still. It's annoying and dumb and I've tried to fix it, but nothing worked. And I've, like an idiot, openly complained about it to my mom. :/

I mentally cannot live without Spotify. It helps me fall asleep, and it helps me calm down. Sat through my mom yelling at me with Sugarcrash playing, it hit hard. I can't have yt or YT music because my mom is overprotective. Won't even let me on YouTube on my personal, private laptop.

So I can't use Spotify in public when I need it most (calming), or even at my own house in case I get caught. Very scared for myself because my mom can be a little abusive.

My mom suggested 'finding' my other phone (I told her it's lost) so I can have a better phone and therefore use Spotify. I don't want to get rid of my 2nd phone and factory reset it because that's all my data thrown in the trash.

Yeah, even the Google play data. Mom doesn't let me sign into any other Google account then the one they set up for me, and I don't even know the fucking password.

A little scared for myself, and a little scared what my mom would do if she found out, so it would be ideal to just factory reset it and transfer my data...but I have attachment issues. Even with games. I'm very traumatized.

I know I mentioned my mom being a bit abusive, but I can't call CPS if she does anything, she's the only thing keeping my family together. I'd most likely have to drop out of high school to help with my sisters, and I really want to get into a good college early.

So yeah. That's my situation, there's my problem and there's an easy fix except I'm an idiot who hates seeing valuable (200+ hours on Crk) work go down the trash, even though games are just games and I shouldn't get too angry.

Yeah. I'm conflicting with myself. I have really weird trauma 👍 but still, if anyone has any other ideas please let me know.

Was considering keeping the old phone and turning that one into my secret phone instead. Don't know how well that would work because I can't see into the future and I'm a bit scared.

[uncanny-tranny]

Honestly, there is a certain type of fetishizing of violence that occurs when you are the victim of abuse - wherein people talk directly to you about how much they fantasize about your abuser/s dying and being killed - "all abusers must be killed!" they say.

As a victim of prolonged abuse, I never felt cared for when people indulged that information to me. It often feels like my abuse is being exploited for others to enact their own violent fantasies and secret desires - my abuse means nothing to them in the same way that I didn't matter to my abusers. It's not support - it's just another cycle of violence.

I'm begging people to care more about victims and survivors than they do about retribution of abusers. Nowhere along the way should your focus on the abuser outweigh the people affected by their abuse. If you truly want to support abuse victims and survivors, start with us

[emotionaleating]

[sin-esthezia]

the thing that gets me the most about ableism against pd’s is that ppl will be like “these disorders make you an ASSHOLE!!!!” and then turn around and pretend that other disorders can’t and don’t make you act shitty.

depression and anxiety can make you irritable and snappy. they can cause you to refuse to listen to people and to be distant and withdrawn. they can cause you to seem angry, bitchy, rude, uncaring, etc.

ptsd causes an array of difficulties in forming meaningful relationships. it pretty much shakes up your entire worldview and sense of self a lot of the time. ptsd can cause you to get angry often. it can cause you to yell and scream. it can cause you to withdraw from others, run away, or cut them out. it can cause general changes in demeanor and more cynical worldviews. it can make you seem grouchy, negative, explosive, impolite, difficult, needy, controlling, etc.

and yet when people with personality disorders have symptoms of that nature, suddenly we are irredeemable monsters. when it’s npd, bpd, hpd, or aspd instead of ptsd or depression and anxiety, people suddenly and magically lose the ability to be understanding.

mental illness is an explanation, not an excuse. i firmly believe that. hurting others is never justified simply because you have any disorder.

but if you can be patient with people who have depression, anxiety, ptsd, ocd, or any other more well understood mental illness, you can be patient with us.

[ca-suffit]

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: Old Friends

Bruce Wayne is no stranger to losing people. He has lost them to death or to madness within this city he is desperately trying to save. With each person, the void within him grows darker and darkeruntil he feels like he is still trapped back in that alley next to cold bodies and a broken heart.

That is why he tries his best to not overthink about them as they were in their final moments. He tries to remember his loved ones for who they were in the better days before tragedy struck.

Once in a while, even those memories he desperately tries to suppress because he can't handle the pain they bring. Bruce is aware it's not healthy.

He's seen plenty of men who are allowed their passions to become violent obsessions- he thinks of Harvey often- but being Batman was the one time he was actually making a difference instead of just allowing more and more tragedies to continue.

As Batman, he is at least putting up a fight.

Maybe that's why, on the night of his two old friends' deaths, Bruce sees them standing under a light post in Old Gotham as he is swinging by dressed as Batman. The very same one he would meet them at back as a teenager, scrambling to sneak out after Alfred would do his rounds.

He remembers his heart beating a mile a minute as he hurried out of his manor's caves, using the forgotten paths to meet the type of youth Alfred warned him against.

They would greet him with crooked smiles, sharp teasing voices, but soft, kind eyes. Despite how the older generations would wrinkle their noises at their appearance, they weren't bad people. Sometimes Bruce thought of them whenever people asked if Crime Alley was ever worth the effort to reform.

He knew they deserved someone to at least try.

Bruce, had meet them when he was ten and angry. They had both come from bad homes- at the time he hadn't realized just how bad- but they had been willing to help the privlage rich boy find his way home. They invited to linger when he neeed quite nights, listen to his woes and encourage his desire to be more.

The three were the same age, but sometimes Bruce would think he was the youngest one there. He grew up fast after his parent's murders, but not as fast as they had done.

They would rather spend their nights sleeping around the center of a small plaza in front of an old movie theater than going to either of their family houses, told him.

They were his best friends, a comfort that someone his age understood pain even if it wasn't the same one he had.

Maybe that is why he hadn't told them to stay when they told him that one had finally saved enough money for a motorbike, which the two were planning to use to run away. Bruce thought that they needed to get away until they were all adults and the system would no longer hold the power of them.

He had only given them a big hug, and well wishes.

Bruce never saw them again.

The light post hadn't been fixed in all those years, so the flickering light fell on the two figures casually leaning against it just as it did the very last night. They stood side by side, chatting lowly, lips cured around cigarettes.

Even the smoke floating around them is the same, and for a second, Bruce wonders if he is looking at a photograph. The same crooked smiles, taunting body language as if daring anyone to try to make them sad, and the same kind but so lonely eyes.

Even the blasted motocycle that stole them from him is propped up next to the pair just as it did the last night he saw them.

Bruce swings to a stop on the rooftop overlooking the two he had outlived. He remembers when he found out. Alfred had just turned on the TV to watch the daily news, and their pictures were flashing across the screen, the words Deadly motorcycle accident under their image.

Bruce had thrown up the meal Alfred had made him. No one else came to their funeral, fitting as it had been the girl's father that orginized their deaths.

All because his daughter would not follow her mother's footsteps and thus he would be out of a worker. Not that anyone belived him, even though Bruce had orginized thier funerals and been one of the four attendees.

Even though she had told them both with a shaking voice that her father wanted her to start wearing the clothes she was in to attract customers.

It was one of the first few cold cases he solved as Batman. He owed them that much.

"B?" Nightwing calls, noticing that his father had stopped following. He comes to stand next to him looking down to where Batman is staring. He sees nothing. "What is it?"

"Just some old friends," He mutters, turning away from Johnny and Kitty. He swears he can almost hear Johnny calling his name but Bruce can't bring himself to look back. If he does he'll fall into the void instead of staring. He aims his grabbling hook and swinings away.

Down below, the pair of ghosts watch the heroes go with wishful smiles.

"He's grown."

"He has." Johnny takes a long puff of his cigarette "I think the idiot can see us. He's had too many close calls if he can spot ghosts without the crazy levels of ectoplasm Amity Park has."

"He better not die. His kids need him." Kitty scoffs, but she leans on Johnny all the same, staring at the city they had tried so desperately to escape in life. They had passed by the street corner her father had controlled the working girls in, and she had burst into tears to see that Bruce had turned it into a women's shelter named after her. "This city needs him."

Johnny, for all his faults, and his flirtatious nature had allways been her rock. That's why when she had been sixteen and scared, she had gone to him to try to run away with.

He had gone with her to their deaths. Sometimes, she wonders if her boys ever blamed her for the end of their stories. She certainly did.

Johnny glances to the sky, spitting a swear. "Come babe, the glowing brat is back. We should try to split before he shoves us back to the Zone."

[cupcakeshakesnake]

Fake screenshots and character designs for aforementioned school project.

I'm still thinking about the title, but the plot is basically "Monster gets pissed at rude man who also happens to be a terrible father and adopts his abused kid by force".

[infinite-beginnings]

The line when Charles said, "Edwin's told me loads of stories about Hell," and him seeming to know he'd find a map in Edwin's book always hits me hard.

Now I acknowledge Charles might’ve been posturing to reassure the Night Nurse he could navigate Hell, but let's assume this fact was real.

Because that means that Edwin felt comfortable enough to talk about all of his trauma to Charles. He mentions Hell a lot in passing in front of the girls, but he never goes into specifics. However, it seems as if he actively told Charles quite a few details about Hell. I also noticed that Charles is very calm when he's going to find Edwin. Yes, he's studying the book a lot, but he is also navigating the space with a certain amount of confidence. I'm sure it's partially due to Charles' tendency to do things without thinking and project confidence. But also, it seems as if he might have at least a very basic level of knowledge or familiarity with the levels of Hell based on the stories Edwin told.

I think this is probably another reason why Edwin struggled to believe the fact that Charles had faced abuse in his past and never shared it with Edwin. Because Edwin was always up front and honest with Charles. He told him the very first time they'd met that he had just escaped Hell. I'm sure Edwin did not want to relive his memories of Hell, and maybe it took him decades to feel like he could share. But I bet when he started talking about it with Charles, he felt relief. Because sharing your trauma with someone who accepts you and loves you no matter what is always a relief after holding it in and pushing it down.

So I just imagine Edwin feeling that relief after sharing his stories from Hell and feeling closer and more bonded with Charles because of it...and then he finds out that Charles has this huge amount of trauma from his past that he has been keeping inside. It probably breaks Edwin's heart that he hadn't been able to offer Charles the same relief he'd felt.

And yes, Crystal mentioned that Charles was probably denying the trauma even to himself. We all know that Edwin knew something was off with Charles and that he was probably frustrated in himself because he hadn't been able to figure it out, but Crystal apparently had.

But I also think there might be another level to it. The boys have been solving cases for 30 years. I find it hard to believe that they never had another case involving abuse or at least someone with a controlling personality that would've reminded Charles of his father. Maybe Edwin thinks back to a couple of those cases and how Charles was acting strange and withdrawn during them and realized he'd missed a huge clue about how his friend was feeling.

All those years of sharing his stories from Hell and being comforted by Charles and Edwin hadn't been able to do the same. Edwin is definitely hurt that Charles didn't feel like he could confide in him and heartbroken to think about how much pain his friend was going through alone.

[incorrectbatfam]

Jon: What happened in 1812?

Damian: The War of 1812.

Jon: When was it?

Colin: 1812.

Jon: What happened then?

Billy: War.

[pollsnatural]

Spin the wheel to get a spnblr discourse topic.

[uncanny-tranny]

"Treatment" for addiction that requires you to lock up, confine, coerce, or otherwise strip addicts of their autonomy, it isn't treatment. It is a revenge fantasy that prioritizes your desire for subjugation over the actual betterment of addicts.

[emotionaleating]

pls don’t flirt with me i want to be nonchalant so bad but i unfortunately crave connection so intensely that i will give you my entire soul and forgive you over and over until i’ve lost myself completely and feel like i’m drowning