#family ment

[ptsd-culture-is]

Ptsd culture is having to make up your own family in your head that you can just daydream about because your parent treated you so badly, but not even being able to think about that family you made without crying because you'll never get to have that life or be able to feel that safe.

.

#ptsd culture is #actual ptsd #actually ptsd #ptsd #trauma #panic disorder #submission #family ment #daydreaming #dissociating

[tqsg]

I noticed to asked for Valgrace prompts so here’s one!

they’re both superhero’s and they’re pretending to date their secret identities so they don’t get caught. Idk what else happens but make sure valgrace ends up together

ok for this one i’ll probably so notes / overall summary for this one i hope that’s ok!!

so personally i am obsessed with the idea of a villian dating a superhero so maybe leo used to be a villian.! i think leo would have been the villain instead of jason because 1: fire is often seen as horribly dangerous and 2: jason is most usually portrayed as being noble and sorts.!

maybe leo met jason and he instantly fell in love? he probably hated himself for it because : jason’s the good guy! i’m the bad guy! plus after everything i’ve done? he would never love me…

jason catches him in a moment of intense vulnerability and realizes leo doesn’t actually want to be the villian.

he catches leo in private and tells him he knows leo doesn’t want to do all this, maybe he never did.

leo doesn’t look at jason, but he ends up telling jason he’s right. leo never wanted it to be like this.

they end up meeting in private more after that. they laugh and smile and just overall have good times together.!

one day they are sitting together and jason looks over at leo. leo knows what’s about to happen, and he lets it happen.

they reach for each other slowly, and don’t stay in the kiss for long. they kind of look at each other, jason smiling and leo’s mouth wide open (almost in shock like: did that really just happen?)

they continue to meet in private, sharing kisses like promises.

maybe eventually there’s a battle and jason (on an impulse) saves leo’s life. up until this point they kept up the charade of leo being a villian and the both of them being sworn enemies.

they have to come out as that they are together perhaps ? and deal with the aftermath of it all,.

they meet again in private and hold each other for hours and hours, not knowing what to do. this is so because leo is now in danger from his family, as they are all horribly evil. jason doesn’t want to lose leo, but the future is unclear for the both of them. he doesn’t want to lose leo, but he doesn’t want leo to get hurt either.

maybe leo has to face his family and there’s a fight. not a verbal one, but a battle. it could symbolize leo moving on from his past and choosing love over hate.

leo runs to jason, and kisses him. they embrace, and it’s love. love won the battle, in the end. isn’t that so beautiful, how love wins?

i know this is kind of different from the prompt jsksks but uh!! yeah!! hope this is okay!! :3

#asks #valgrace #valgrace au #leo valdez #jason grace #superhero au #kind of #riordanverse #family ment #abusive family tw #??? kind of #putting it there in case

[okapiandpaste]

my dad turned on nanny mcphee 2 and between my sibling calling the evil uncle a babygirl and me uttering the phrase “girlypop euthanasia” he may be regretting his decisions

#me posting crud #text #family ment #this is a relatively mundane sequel until the human taxidermy and bomb subplot happen

[yupekosi]

i tried that faceapp thing that transes ur gender and it turns out if i was a cis guy id look exactly like my brother but with a worse haircut. devastated

#me.txt #textposts #trans #nonbinary #family ment

[the-last-butter]

Now that he’s unbanned he shows her the haikus he wrote and stuff while she was busy steering the ship through some big storm or slaying hydras or something

#shitpost #KAZUHA CAME HOME BEIGGUANG FAMILY IS NOW COMPLETE #Beidous like look what I found they’re my wards now and holds up Kazuha and Xinyan and Ningguangs like ok very cool #Beidou #Kazuha #genshin impact #drug ment tw #my doodles

[hauntedpearl]

s12 destiel from dean's perspective is explanation enough for why dean is sooooo insane after that season. like.

- first he almost kills himself for the greater good or whatever and has to come to terms with like. dying. on purpose. and then he is given the gift of life but before he can be like yay! i can go home! his mom is back from the dead??? and his brother is missing???

- then his mom leaves him bc she wants to figure out who she is and even tho he's like a 38 yo man it fucks w him a lot understandably.

-they get arrested and put in SOLITARY for a while and when they finally get out and meet cas again (at which point dean has once again come to terms with dying for the greater good but also mostly his mom and brother this time), he KILLS THE REAPER THEY MADE THE DEAL WITH AND GETS ALL EMOTIONAL??? after which he proceeds to fuck off bc he is Busy™ tracking lucifer etc.,

- then they get a lead and CAS ALMOST DIES IN FRONT OF HIS EYES and throws an I love you in his goodbye speech for the lolz. which. hahaha. anyway cas lives but turns out his mother — with whom he's trying to connect so badly so he can achieve full Normalcy — was like. lowkey responsible for his almost death. so they're fighting now.

- cas receives a divine voicemail from his close friend and colleague and then they go on that case with Lily sunder and ISHIM BEATS CAS UP AND THREATENS TO KILL HIM and even after they beat him Lily Sunder is like. I'm gonna go do some soul searching and if im in the mood I'll come back and KILL YOU. THREAT. and cas is like 😔 fair. so you know.

- there is also an instance of him losing his memories which is scary. and it's like. being intimately familiar with that experience is. something else. as a memory loss girlie let me tell you 👍🏽😄

- and then!!!!! lucifer's unborn child mind melds with his wifehusband — once more in front of his own two eyes — and "manipulates" him into running away with the pregnant lady instead of staying and Figuring Out A Solution. and when they finally do find cas, they are with them for all of 12 hours before HE DIES. FORREAL THIS TIME. AND LIKE THAT'S IT. NO COMING BACK FROM THAT ONE!

this is not an exhaustive list bc i don't remember everything but. like you know. he was primed to get worse and worse. all things that happen in s12 are out of his control but they are also things that happen in front of his eyes, and in ways that make him think that perhaps he did have control over them and he did fuck up some way and he *should* have done something to change the course of their lives so he's filled with guiltshame about it. and he decides that the solution to not losing anyone in the foreseeable future is to just. Control Every Possible Aspect Of Their Existence. which is impossible and that's why he gets mad all the time but YOU KNOW. YOU CAN SEE WHY HE'S CRAZY. poor s12 dean man.

#doe is talking again #just thinking thoughts #i MISS S12 BTW #EVERYTHING WAS SOOOO RIGHT #and then </3 #also this is my bias against s13 showing bc i think it's STUPID #thete i said it idc about narrative importance s13 commits the worst crime of all: its boring as shit #and yeah I've only watched it once but i hated having yo watch it and supernatural WAS my favourite show back then even!! #snd an excuse to spend time with my v close friend!!! SO !!! EVEN THAT couldn't make s13 worth the time 😔 #im also not a big fan of first half of s14 while we're at it. #i think it picks up in the second half thk when thsy start doinf family drama #anyway #ANYWAYSSSS #this is not meta or analysis im just thinking about s12 dean my baby #suicide ment

[yandere--stuck]

if you have any more thoughts on the Joker Junior extending the family take I'd love to hear them!! Would J be interested in having Nightwing with them? Or Alfred? I'm not sure how well either of them would take to the venom, but if they have Batman anything's possible

Less ideas and more of an actual fic, oopsie!

---

Three weeks. Three long, agonizing weeks without Tim. Three weeks of hoping beyond all hope that he was somehow fine. That they'd all look back on this and laugh.

But, no. Eventually, Bruce was able to get word that The Joker and Harley had holed themselves up in the abandoned Arkham Asylum, and something in his gut that made him sick knew there was some correlation.

Part of him hadn't wanted Barbara to come along, but he also knew he wouldn't be able to stop her even if he tried. So, the two of them traversed through the crumbling asylum together and followed the echoing sound of Harley's voice singing a lullaby.

“Hush, little baby, don't say a word,

Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird,

And if that mockingbird don't sing,

Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring….”

Closer, closer. It took both of them every bit of will they had not to sprint through the halls as fast as their legs could carry them. As Harley’s voice grew even louder, Barbara split up to find another way in while Bruce took the lead. His heart nearly leapt from his chest with anticipation as he closed in on her location.

“And if that diamond ring is brass,

Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass,

And if that looking glass gets broke-”

The moment Harley saw him burst through the double doors, she perked up, greeting Bruce with a smile. She was cradling a flower vase in her arms, which she set down onto a covered table. Craning her neck, she shouted over her shoulder. “Puddin’, Hubby's home!”

Bruce’s eyes followed Harley’s gaze, spotting Joker on the second floor where he rested on a recliner. With a flourish, The Clown rose to his feet, turning away from his rabbit-eared television set and popping a pipe from his mouth, tossing it aside. 

“Well, hello, dear!” Joker strolled down the stairs, stopping just shy of Batman. He wrapped an arm around Harley, the two of them smiling sweetly at their bat. “Welcome home.”

Bruce all but snarled in their faces, leaning close and baring his teeth. “Where's Robin?”

Both clowns shared a quizzical look.

“Robin?” Joker repeated with a quirk of his head. “There's no Robin here!”

“Maybe he means our little J,” Harley offered.

The Clown Prince of Crime snapped his fingers. “Of course! That's it.”

Meeting the Bat's eyes, smiling back at his scowl, Joker gestured to the other side of the room. To whatever was being concealed behind the large blue curtain. And Bruce couldn't help his rage, shoving the couple aside roughly as he moved to cross the room. 

The Joker stumbled back, recovering with the shake of his head and click of his tongue.  “He must be so stressed out from work.”

“I hate it when he gets like this. He never knows when ta relax,” Harley shook her head and reached underneath the table, pulling out a bazooka from beneath the tablecloth. She fired, and a band of ribbons erupted from the muzzle, knocking Batman to the floor with a hard thud and wrapping him up like a gift - bow and all.

“Good thing he has us. Hmm, now what say we bring this little gift of ours back to the bedroom to unwrap?”

Joker's grin stretched just a little wider as he noticed the movement of Batman's hand - holding it up just so as if to signal someone, just out of eyesight, to stand down. Joker's eyes crinkled. Perfect. He wondered, was it the eldest birdboy? Or maybe they'd be getting two bats with one stone?

“Y'know, Bat's, we've been doing this little run around for years,” Joker spoke again, approaching his prone enemy. “It's been loads of laughs! But the sad fact is - none of us are getting any younger.”

Harley joined his side, patting her stomach. “That ol’ clock's a tickin’!”

“Quite right, Pooh! So, Harley and I were thinking it's about time the three of us finally settled down together.”

“But rather than experiencing the joys of pregnancy, we decided the best way would be to just marry into the family.”

Hand-in-hand, the clowns walked over their Bat's prone form to each rest a hand on the curtain in front of them. 

“But no matter how happy we are to join you, we were a bit disappointed that we didn't really have the chance to nurture them, too,” Joker lamented. “And after all, what better way to officially join the family than to impart a little bit of our personalities to the kiddos? He needed a bit of molding, of course, but-”

The couple yanked on each side of the curtain, the blue cloth sliding and billowing out as it parted - revealing a child strapped to a medical examination table.

“... What kid doesn't?” Joker finished with a grin, drinking in the Dark Knight's reaction. 

Bruce couldn't help the exhale of ‘no’ that left him. Couldn't even blink, too horrified to look away from what had been done to Tim. The horror set in all at once, like freezing water flooding through every nerve in his system.

Joker brought Tim forward with the click of a button, the table rolling forward and bringing the boy into the light. 

Tim...

His face an acid-washed white. His hair an unearthly green. His Robin costume now replaced with an exact recreation of Joker's own suit. And his face… Contorted in a pained smile and his eyes wide and afraid, unblinking.

“Say hello to Dada, JJ,” Joker cooed.

Tim's eyes, seeming to glow red in the light, shifted from Joker to Batman. He leaned further into the light, locking eyes with Bruce, and laughed. He laughed in a way Bruce had never, ever heard before. He unbound himself from the table, leaping to the floor on scrawny legs - God, how much weight had he lost in such a short amount of time. What had they done to his boy?

All at once, the cold shock and dawning horror inside Bruce shifted - and his whole body was alight with rage, like a fire inside threatening to escape through every orifice as he ripped through his bonds. The shout he made was near inhuman, launching a batarang he had cut the ribbons with directly at Joker's head, only for the Clown to dodge it with ease.

Harsh giggles flooded from Joker's throat, wiggling a finger in a ‘come hither’ motion before jumping onto the now vacant medical table, rocketing off with the click of a button, causing Bruce to almost stumble and reorient himself to take off after him - and leaving Barbara to deal with Harley.

—

Giggles bubbled from Tim JJ's throat as he stared unblinkingly down at his father, body crumpled on the floor, cape draped almost protectively over his prone body. And with giddy glee, The Joker Papa J hopped down from the giant building blocks he was perched upon, where he had sliced at Batman and sent him tumbling down only seconds ago.

It was all a blur for Bruce. The chase. The horrific videos of Tim… Tim's torture. Three weeks. Three weeks of that Hell. Electrocution. Beatings. Torment. Starvation. And it was all his fault. He'd failed him. The rage that had filled him nearly completely, made him seen red, had all been snuffed out. 

First Jason. Now Tim. And Bruce still couldn't bring him to end this. His vision swam, and he could barely even focus. Not on Tim. Not on the man who tortured him. But… Wait. Where was-?

With a final hop, Joker landed in front of Batman in a crouch, hovering over him with a sly grin.

“You've lost, Bruce,” He rasped, and just hearing the name on the clown's lips made JJ seize up, his forever-smile momentarily twitching and a flood of nervous giggles escaping him. The clown continued, voice low. “Robin is mine… And now, so are you.” 

And with a hearty heft, Joker lifted Bruce up by the scruff of his cowl and cape, as if presenting him. The grin of his face, the look in his eyes, as he looked down on his enemy. So proud of himself, so smug.

And Bruce. He looked in a daze, lost and beaten. Blood dripped from his lips.

This isn't what Papa promised. He said everything would be okay now. That he'd see Dad and Dick and Babs and Alfred again and he wouldn't be mean or hurt him again, because Papa knew he would be good now…

But when Joker met his eyes, something in them changed - his smile warping to somehow become comforting, happier. The darkness in his eyes dissipated, replaced with an excited shine. And with a free hand, The Clown grabbed for a large gun that looked more like a toy than anything.

“Here ya go, sonny-boy!” He said, tossing the weapon.

JJ scrambled forward to catch it. He couldn't help but notice how light the gun felt as he cradled it in his shaking, gloved hands. For a moment, he couldn't look away.

“Make him one of us,” The Joker urged, voice like a hiss. 

It wasn't a conscious decision to aim the gun. It just happened. Like one minute, JJ was there and gone and back again. His hands shook so hard that he could hardly keep the weapon straight. Could barely even look at him. At the mask. At the man behind it.

“Tim…” Batman breathed. JJ had never heard his voice sound so small.

JJ would swear he couldn't breathe if it weren't for the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the wheezing, giggling exhales that escaped him as he struggled to calm down. Tears threatened to pool from his eyes.

This wasn't right. But, Papa knows best. He said everything would be okay afterward. He said he wouldn't be punished again. But, he couldn't. But, he couldn't run, either - too scared. Too weak. He wanted to be home. He wanted his family. He wanted to stop crying, to be able to breathe, to run into his fathers’ arms-

“It's alright now, JJ,” The Joker soothed, recapturing the boy's attention. “Just pull the trigger, and everything will be okay.”

JJ wanted his Papa to be telling the truth. He just wanted everything to be okay. He just wanted it all to stop. Bruce, please forgive him.

His finger squeezed around the trigger-

Joker's laugh filled the room, just as a green mist began flooding from the gun’s opening. It spread through the air and quickly covered both men. Joker laughed long and loud as he clung to Batman. He pulled his Bat into an embrace, a smile so bright and wide it made the corners of his mouth rip, as Bruce began to choke and hack.

The man seized up and shook in Joker's arms. Slow at first, but soon trembling and writhing in agony, barely restrained and pained chuckles escaping him. So much hurt flooding through every nerve and system that almost faculties left him. His lungs burned, his face ached, he couldn't feel his extremities and wouldn't have been able to hold himself up without Joker's hold on him. Bruce wasn't sure if he could speak or even breathe anymore, but somehow his body found it in itself to betray him, forcing laughter from gritted teeth.

Joker took a knee, gently laying Batman to the ground. The bat spasmed and jerked. Tears began to fall from behind his mask, shining on his cheeks in the light. Gloved hands caressed the sides of Bruce's face. Green eyes glinted in the light as they watched each movement of the other man - every sputter, every gasp, every choked out laugh, every pained, slowly blooming smile that wobbled onto his face.

“You must be so scared, aren't you, sweetheart?” Joker cooed. “You've been scared this whole time, haven't you? Ever since that night in the alleyway...”

Batman didn't reply - couldn't. His eyes crinkled as his smile grew involuntarily. All he could do was return the man's gaze with a manic smile that wasn't his own.

Joker stroked the top of his cowl lovingly. “But it's okay now, Bruce. You don't have to be scared anymore. You don't have to be strong. Don't have to hold yourself back. Me and Harl will build you back up to what you were meant to be. We'll be brave for you now. And do you know why?” 

Bruce couldn't respond. For one, the agony of whatever this was, whatever Joker had planned for him, blotted out almost all thoughts in his mind completely. Could only tremble and writhe and cry and laugh. Laugh. Laugh. The laughing made it hurt just a little less. But he could still barely even register what the other man was saying. What he could register, though, was the image of Joker slowly leaning down to press his lips to Bruce's cloaked forehead.

“Because we love you.” Joker finished.

—

“Ohhhh, Harley!” Joker's voice rang through the cavernous halls of the abandoned asylum. “Barbie's turn!”

Barbara's stomach sunk to her feet and her heart skipped a beat. Barbie? No. No, there was no way, he could have known her name. Oh God, what happened to Bruce-?

In the middle of her ruminations, Harley caught her by surprise. A jab to the face, the pull of her leg to trip her up leaving her scrambling to correct her fall- only for her to feel hand grasp tightly at the nape of her neck, coiling painfully at the root of her hair. She was shoved onto her stomach, face-to-face with the dirty, cracked tiles of the former asylum’s floor.

“You know what that means! C'mon, Barbie,” Harley grunted, fingers twisting in the roots of her hair. She lunged forward, slamming her face to the floor with a sick crunch. “Let's go party!”

And everything went dark.

… Barbara awoke with a groan. The smell of pennies flooded her nostrils. Her vision was bleary and swam as she struggled to open her eyes.

A dark figure entered her vision from her periphery, and it loomed over a figure clad in purple. And for a moment, just one moment, she allowed herself to hope.

But, that hope crumbled just as quickly as Joker's voice entered her ears. 

“You're okay, Bruce, you're okay, sweetie. You're gonna play nice now, right?”

Barbara couldn't help but shudder at the sound of Bruce's laugh in reply.

Hands found their way to Barbara's hair again, this time much softer. Not grabbing, just brushing and stroking almost soothingly.

“Wakey, wakey, eggs ‘n bakey,” Harley sang as she carded her hands through the younger woman's hair. “Y'know, I've always wanted a daughter. A little girl of my own. You think you'd ever want Mama to braid your hair for you? It's so pretty!”

“Ah, welcome back to the land of the living, Barbie,” Joker greeted. “Your Dad and I were just talking about you. A real chip off the ol’ block. Now all we need is to make it official.”

Barbara watched as Tim approached Bruce, pushing a gun of some kind into his hands. The Batman held it in his hands, smiling down at the weapon - but seemed almost hesitant. Unsure. Like he knew this was wrong. Like the weapon would somehow come alive and bite him.

“Batman, listen to me,” Batgirl pleaded. “Don't do this. Whatever they've done to you, this isn't you.”

“Oh, but it is! And soon it'll be you, too,” Harley corrected, walking back to give herself some distance.

“I know you're torn, Batsy, but I promise this is for the best,” Joker rubbed circles into the other man's back. “We'll all finally be together. Once we get Barbie here, then we'll get Dick and Al. And we'll be a family! They'll never be hurt again. You'll never be hurt again, sweetheart. I won't let anything bad happen anymore. You'll get your happily ever after. You won't be afraid ever again, I promise.”

Tears stung at Barbara's cheeks as she begged. “Batman, please!”

And for a moment, she thought she somehow got through to him. They locked eyes and Bruce smiled at her with a smile that isn't his own. But, she thought she could see understanding or recognition or something in his eyes, and was sure he'd toss the gun away and start kicking Joker's ass.

But, she was wrong.

With a hiss, green toxin flooded all around her. Even over her screams, the sounds of Joker, Tim, Harley, and Bruce's laughter smothered her completely. And soon after, so did her own.

#yandere x character #poly Yandere #familial yandere #platonic yandere #batjokes #batjarley #batjoquinn #torture mention #torture tw #torture cw #child abuse mention #child abuse tw #child abuse cw #child abuse ment cw #yandere x character x yandere #joker junior #joker jr #batman beyond: return of the joker #yandere #yandere joker #yandere Harley Quinn #yandere Harleen Quinzel #jokerized #blood

[tangledinink]

gasp!!! TWO chapters of teenage mutant what now? in one week!?!? .... NO :D thats not what this is! This is, however, a little side-fic/drabble I wrote at work yesterday on a whim. Read it on ao3 or below the cut!!!

This takes place a few months before the start of the main fic and is 'canon,' but is just a little character/relationship exploration thing? Donnie-centric / Brains-n-Brawn-centric. This is a little bit heavier than the main fic so pleaseee be mindful of the tags below!

Hunger has claws.

It will struggle a bit before it settles. Sometimes, after being idle for a while, it’ll suddenly start to fight again. It’ll rear up through your stomach and up into your chest, banging its head against your sternum and raking its nails down the inside of you, and it makes your face go hot and your vision swim and your mouth tastes like blood for just a minute as it screams and begs you.

But if you grit your teeth and bear it, it’ll settle down again after a minute or so and back off. And the comfortable sensation of ‘empty’ will come back to you. And except for in those rare, brief moments, hunger is relatively calm. It feels safe sometimes. 

There is nothing inside me that will hurt me. There is nothing inside me that will hurt me. I have not put anything inside, so I know for a fact-- there is nothing inside me that will hurt me.

---

Donnie had been awake since four in the morning, much to his annoyance, but he had yet to do anything beyond stare at the wall since he realized he’d be unable to get back to sleep. He hadn’t even crawled out from under the covers, stayed bundled up beneath the soothing pressure of his weighted blanket, his face buried against the fabric and breathing in the scent of it. He could see his alarm clock from here, and knew that it would go off soon. He could see the beginnings of the sunrise beginning to color the glass pane of his window. He could hear the city outside slowly waking up.

He would really prefer it if it didn’t.

Anxiety prickled at his limbs, gnawing at his skin and keeping him awake, chewing on every corner of him, and he resisted a whine, bundling himself up even tighter and squeezing his eyes shut as if that might help.

Today felt wrong. He had hoped that a good night’s rest would reset things. You know. The good old ‘turn it off and turn it back on again.’ Yesterday had sucked, and he had really been banking on his ability to simply sleep this off because he, quite frankly, didn’t have any other ideas. 

But now today felt even worse.

His alarm clock mocked him as another minute visibly ticked by, dragging him closer and closer to the inevitable. He was already dreading the prospect, waiting miserably for the device to begin chirping at him, demanding he start the day. The very thought made his stomach flip-flop with unwelcome nausea. He didn’t want to get out of bed. He didn’t want to leave his room. He didn’t want to do anything. And the worst part was that he knew he didn’t actually have to.

If he really wanted to, he could just turn the alarms off and stay in bed. He already knew exactly what would happen.

Eventually, when he didn’t come down from his room for breakfast, as per routine, his dad would come up to check on him, knocking softly on the door and poking his head in. And he’d ask, are you awake, Purple? And Donnie would grumble and nod from the covers. And then he would come in and close the door behind him and come over to his bed and ask, are you okay? What’s wrong? And Donnie knew that if he responded that it was a ‘bad day,’ said that he didn’t want to get out of bed, told him he was staying home today… Dad would let him.

He knew that their dad would sit with him for a while, and that he wouldn’t bring any expectations to the preceding conversation, but that he would stay and talk about it with them for a bit to see if that helped-- to see if discussing the problem was enough to resolve things and coax Donnie out of bed. And admittedly, sometimes it did. Sometimes just explaining why he was anxious or being reassured that he could call their dad to come pick them up at any point during the day was enough for him to settle and organize his thoughts enough that he’d decide to get up after all. And sometimes, it didn’t. And that was fine, too. Even now, he knew that if he asked for it, his father would absolutely allow him the day off and stay home with him. 

But he also knew that if he asked for this, it would set off the warning bells. 

He knew that his dad would ask him about what was wrong and why he was having a ‘bad day,’ and because Donnie couldn’t lie for the life of him, would eventually uncover that he had skipped two out of three meals the day prior, and then he would make him eat. Not right away, but at some point, he’d gently insist that Donnie consume at least something small to start, at least one of his protein shakes or some saltine crackers, something he knew Donnie liked and was ‘safe.’ They knew he’d call Mossy, and then she’d be trying to get them to do the same thing, too. And then Dad would be watching him, and making sure he was eating, and paying attention to ensure it, and Donnie wouldn’t be able to covertly skip any meals and sneak away, because he was allowed to have a bad day and stay in bed sometimes, but he wasn’t allowed to stop eating--

He couldn’t have both. He could either get out of bed…

Or he could eat.

Cornering his resolve, Donnie bit the insides of his cheeks and kicked off the covers.

---

The journey to school was basically hell.

Usually, he didn’t mind the subway. His siblings were very good about providing him with a ‘shield’ when it was overly crowded and making sure not too many people touched him or shoved up against him, his headphones kept all the noise and chatter at bay, and the rhythmic, back-and-forth sway of the train moving along the tracks was usually comforting to him, in an odd sort of way.

Today, it just made him want to throw up. And he had already wanted to throw up when he got on the subway.

The entire commute he had to focus all of his energy simply on not just straight up vomiting, fighting the urge to anxiously flick his wrists or bounce his leg, trying to keep his body settled and calm and not-visibly-distressed because usually he was okay with his family helping him, but not right now, because if they caught on that he was this anxious, they were going to pay more attention, and then they might catch on that he had faked out breakfast this morning (thank god for the absolute chaos of the Hamato’s first meal of the day, which made for excellent cover,) or seek him out and watch him during lunch, and then they would make him eat, and he didn’t want to eat. He couldn’t make himself engage in conversation, couldn’t manage to keep up with the chatter and back-and-forth with his family, so he instead summoned the very last of his social energy to invite Leo to listen to this new album that he thought he’d really like with him. And when Leo excitedly agreed, he synced their bluetooths, queued up a band he knew Leo had never listened to before on Spotify, and then focused on reciting digits of Pi silently in his head for the rest of the trip, trying desperately to keep the anxiety and nausea in check.

He had never been so relieved in his life as he was when they finally got to their stop, the robotic announcer cheerfully declaring that doors would be opening on the left. He felt his head swim just the tiniest bit when he rose up to his feet, but it backed off quick enough, and the absolute minute they were back above ground, breathing in the fresh breeze instead of hot, disgusting, horrendous subway air, worming into his lungs and sweating inside him, he practically cried with relief. He sucked in several long, deep breaths as they walked, and slowly let it out, biting the insides of his cheeks and grinding his teeth quietly inside his head. 

It was fine. It was over. He made it through it, and it was over, and he was okay, see? And there was nothing inside him. Nothing inside him that would hurt him. Relax. You’re okay. There’s still nothing bad inside you. 

A little voice in the back of his mind reminded him that this wasn’t rational. That he was being pretty fucking stupid right now. That he should really take out his phone, like, right now and text Mossy and tell her what was going on and figure it out and deal with it instead of playing these stupid mind games with himself.

But Mossy would make him eat. And he didn’t want to eat.

“Dude--”

He nearly toppled over when an arm shot out in front of him, smacking against his chest and stopping him dead in his tracks. He blinked in surprise, stumbling the tiniest bit to find his balance again.

Leo retracted his arm after a moment, giving the other a pointed look, one brow raised as the rest of the group paused to glance back at the two. “Uh. Earth to Donnie. Are you, like, good?” Leo questioned, frowning at him. “You literally just almost walked into a lamp post.”

Ah. So he had. 

“... Hm. Well. That is… less than ideal,” he muttered, half-to-himself, a bit dazed for a moment, before he shook it off and re-centered his focus, clearing his throat slightly and giving a flourishing wave of his hand. “Right. Apologizes, dear brother. I’m afraid I didn’t get the most sleep last night,” not a lie. “I’m working on a new project,” also not a lie, “with that AI system I pioneered. Remember how I explained that to you? My intention is to develop an improved API to match the modifications I’ve made in the programming, considering that the framework itself has been altered slightly… I’m still working on updating some of the conditionals as well. It’s all mostly backend information, so I wasn’t sure it would really be necessary at first, but given the OS--”

“Okay! Okay, okay! This was not a request to explain your nerd coding stuff!” Leo interrupted with a groan, rolling his eyes, and Donnie sighed internally with relief. He knew that would work. For once he was glad that his twin was typically unwilling to listen to him spout off about his work.

He huffed and made some generic intelligence-based insult in Leo’s general direction in response as he brushed past him, sealing the legitimacy of his performance, and made a mental note to pay more attention to where he was walking for the rest of the day. 

---

He was hungry, but it wasn’t so bad now. It was just a physical sensation that he was dimly aware of in the back of his mind and capable of tuning out. Because sure, his body might be hungry. But he sure wasn’t. He had absolutely zero desire to consume anything. The thought of eating was, quite frankly, wholly unappealing and he couldn’t imagine a single thing in the world right now that he would want to eat. Not even any of his favorites. Not even any of his safe foods.

If you ignore hunger long enough, you kind of don’t notice it so much anymore. You can get used to it. You can go a few days, even, before it becomes beastly enough to truly demand to be heard.

… Usually, he didn’t do this. Not anymore, anyway.

Usually, he was fine. Well. Maybe not always fine, per se, but usually all of this was manageable. It… had been a problem, once upon a time. I mean, it had always been a problem, but then it had become a real problem, and it had been unmanageable, and things had been a little rough for a second there (story of his fucking life,) but then he had gotten out from under it because he and Mossy talked about it a lot, and he and his Dad talked about it a lot, and he talked to his siblings some, too, and it got better and then eventually it got easier. He remembered, back then, when it was still unmanageable, way back in middle school, he used to have a chart. Because Mossy, the evil genius, had decided to prey up both his competitive nature and his love for filling out charts and graphs. And the rule had originally been at least two meals a day at least three days a week. That was the starting point. It was okay if the meal was a protein shake. It was okay if every meal was a protein shake. He just had to hit that goal. 

And it was hard. Eating had always been hard, because there were so many foods that he just hated and so many foods that he didn’t know and sometimes it just felt bad. Sometimes, just the mere act alone of putting something in his mouth, chewing it, and then swallowing it was, in and of itself, simply revolting. But he could, at least, kind of handle it a bit better when he had a goal like that. And when he got to record the data on a graph once he had done it.

They had eventually upped that goal, and then upped it again, and again, until Donnie was able to hit it consistently enough for long enough that he had graduated from the chart altogether.

And it was hard sometimes, still. It had always been hard. But usually, it was hard in a way that he could navigate. 

He wouldn’t be able to meet that first ‘starting point’ goal right now if he tried, he didn’t think.

He knew that he was supposed to eat. He knew that, biologically, it was an objective fact that he needed food to survive. And that fasting for long periods of time was unhealthy, and that he was damaging himself-- etc etc etc. Yeah, whatever.

He knew lots of stuff. That didn’t change things.

It was just as helpful as knowing that a hug was intended as pleasant and supportive when he was experiencing sensory overload. Or knowing there were no insects or hidden cameras in his room when he was in the middle of a full on fucking breakdown. Or knowing that he had already triple-checked that he shut down his soldering gun properly when it was the middle of the night and he couldn’t sleep and his brain was crawling with what-ifs?

That is to say, completely and utterly useless. 

The nausea had persisted through the day, much to his chagrin, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t block out and ignore. Schoolwork made for a good distraction, and skipping lunch was as simple as tossing out what he had been packed for the day (sorry, Mikey,) and finding some corner of the library to hide in. He didn’t typically eat lunch with any of his siblings, given the size of their school and how poorly their schedules aligned for such purposes, and they all had their own friends to eat with, anyway. Maybe some of his friends would text him regarding his absence, but he wasn’t really worried about it. It wasn’t unusual for him not to come to lunch, given the nature of his hybrid-schooling model, and lying was a lot easier through text.

He liked the library. It was quiet here. And he really did have stuff to work on. He always did. The way his hands trembled was annoying, but did not deter him.

---

He felt Leo’s fingers tap against his ankle.

He had, admittedly, not exactly been focusing up until a second ago. Really, he hadn’t been focusing much for a while now. Their coach had told them to do ten sets of two-hundred’s, which was easy enough, but also meant a lot of back and forth. Donnie didn’t mind lots of back and forth. If anything, he enjoyed it. He liked swimming, and he did some of his best thinking in the water. How many incredible software programs and inventions and designs had been birthed here, after all?

But usually, he was capable of thinking and swimming in a straight line at the same time.

He was having a bit more trouble today than he’d like to admit.

He was beginning to get sore from how many times he had scraped himself up against the lane-line after losing focus and heading ever-so-slightly off track. And though he had kept his lead thus far, heading the charge as per usual, the repeated crashes had slowed him down. His lead was not quite as dominant as it normally was.

And Leo was trying to pass him.

Fuck.

Donnie bristled, immediately bringing his focus back into the world around him, throwing whatever dredges of energy he still had left into his front stroke and pulling back out ahead-- leaving Leo behind. It wasn’t terribly hard. He was easily the strongest swimmer on the team on a good day, and even on a bad day, he could edge out the rest of the pack.

It was just. Jesus, it was exhausting. 

This wasn’t even a particularly demanding set. He was just fucking tired. And keeping his lead, though do-able, required everything he had left to give.

(Which was quite annoying, because he had been right in the middle of mentally unraveling a really complicated mathematics equation that he needed for a robotics project.) 

One-by-one, all right after another, the group eventually finished their laps, ending up bunched up at the end of the lane, clinging to the side of the pool so everyone could catch their breath and guzzle down water. And at the beginning of the day, Donnie had been fine with water. He had been drinking water, earlier, at least. But somewhere along the line it had become bad no unclean bad harmful no no no absolutely do not no as well, and so he had stopped. Given the fact that everyone was already soaking wet and quite literally surrounded by water to begin with, however, it was quite easy to fake it.

And he had been hoping that the fact that Leo hadn’t managed to pass him would be enough to make him sulk and not be willing to bring it up. And, if not, he was expecting Leo to crow and tease him about his near-accomplishment, and then the two of them could fight with each other over it, and Donnie could be all annoyed and roll his eyes and make snarky quips, and that would be so much easier to manage. 

But instead Leo gave him this concerned, sidelong sort of look and raised a brow and said, for the second time that day,

“Dude. You good?”

Donnie had kind of stared at him for a second, blinking slowly, processing, before he finally responded.

“Why?”

“You’re way slower than usual. And you kept hitting the lane-lines,” Leo observed, and dammit, Donnie didn’t know why he was even surprised that Leo noticed that-- of course he would. 

“Are you feeling okay? You’re not getting sick or somethin’, are ya?” Raph questioned, looking Donnie up and down, his brows pinching with worry. Donnie frowned, hesitated, and then shrugged.

“I dunno. Maybe,” they muttered, and technically, that wasn’t a lie, either.

---

Though they had eventually backed off enough for them to get through the rest of swim practice, despite Raph’s repeated suggestions that they skip out early and head home if Donnie wasn’t feeling good, he could feel both of his brothers looking at him for the rest of the evening. It was starting to make his nerves bunch up and his vision kind of cave in in a way that he didn’t like. It was starting to make his head feel kind of hot and fuzzy in a way he didn’t care for. The fact that they were at swim, specifically, and not gymnastics or dance or literally anywhere else was really the only thing holding him together. He suspected he would have had a panic attack and vomited at least once by now otherwise. 

But they were in the water.

He liked being in the water.

It was… comforting, he supposed. He had always really enjoyed the sensory experience of it. Of swimming, sure, but also just being in the water. He loved how sound became just a little bit blurred and far off when he ducked his head under, and would often tip his head back in between laps just so that his ears would get covered up and filled in and things would go a bit quiet and mumbly. He liked how softly the water touched him and how it held him up-- the weightlessness of it. He even liked the smell of chlorine, strangely enough. It felt nostalgic somehow.

At least once every single time he got in the pool, no matter what the reason or where they were, he always would dive all the way down to the bottom at least once. He liked being down below it all-- to curl up small on the pool floor and settle down and just… be there for a while.

It was so peaceful down there. 

He swore he could stay down there forever. He would live at the bottom of the pool if he could get away with it. But eventually Raph would always peer down at him with this kind of worried look, like, are you good, or did you drown and I’ve gotta come get your corpse? And he’d remember that he wouldn’t be able to operate a welding torch or set up a PC down here and he’d come back up to the surface.

He did it five times today.

He liked being in the water.

The problem truly came when he had to get out of the water. Because once it was no longer physically holding him up, he already knew that there was a very real chance he was going to fall apart. And, even worse--

Getting out of the water meant swim practice was over. Which meant that they were that much closer to going home. Which meant that they were that much closer to dinner.

This was, by far, the most difficult meal to worm his way out of, especially considering he had just done it yesterday. And his brothers were already looking at him.

Typically, on Thursdays, Leo and Raph would go down the hall from the pool to the basketball court after swim practice was over for an hour or two before they headed back to the apartment for the evening. Sometimes Donnie would come, usually to sit and watch, rarely to participate, and sometimes he would head off without them and spend the time in his lab before everyone got home and they gathered for dinner. But Leo and Raph clearly had no intention of leaving him by himself right now, wordlessly agreeing to abandon any other previous plans for the evening and head straight home instead. And it was… nice. Donnie could certainly acknowledge that. It was, like, sweet, or whatever, that they were worried about him.

But it was so, so not what he wanted right now.

His body was absolutely weighed down with dread, so very much so that when he tried to follow his brothers and get out of the water at the end of practice, it didn’t quite work. He tried twice more, attempting to lift himself up on his shaking arms far enough to get his knee up onto the ledge, something that was usually easy for him, something he could usually accomplish without a second thought and even a bit of effort… but each time he just couldn’t quite get high enough and he fell back down.

“Donnie,” Raph said, slowly, carefully, his voice measured and gentle, after the third failure. “Can I touch you?”

Donnie grit his teeth in frustration, giving a short shake of his head no.

He could tell that Raph was frustrated, too, though he didn’t say it. “Okay,” he said. “Do you think you can make it to the ladder over there?” He asked instead, gesturing to the far side of the pool. The rest of the team chattered around them as they filed their way towards the locker rooms, talking with each other or discussing things with coaches, and Donnie wished so, so very desperately that they would all shut up. He tipped his head back to cover his ears, just for a second, just for a break, and Raph and Leo waited in silence until he finally righted himself again and nodded.

“Alright. Don’t swim though. Wall-walk over,” Raph instructed, with the kind of voice that said do not fucking argue with me, and usually Donnie would roll his eyes and scoff and be annoyed with the mere concept of Raph trying to tell him what to do like that, let alone implying that he couldn’t handle swimming across four lanes to get to the side of the pool… But he didn’t really have the energy for that right now.

(And also, maybe a tiny part of him wasn’t sure he could swim across four lanes right now. I mean. He was pretty sure he could. He had just swam, like, literally several miles. Surely he could still do this, right? But jesus christ, what if he couldn’t? What if what if what if?)

“Leo, go grab Donnie’s towel and the rest of his stuff from the locker room, alright?” Raph said. Leo visibly hesitated, clearly not wanting to leave his twin, not wanting to leave either of them and be somewhere else-- but he nodded anyway, and headed off at a brisk pace on his retrieval mission. Once he had headed off, Raph wasted no time in returning back to the water, entering via the lane next over to avoid jostling or splashing Donnie and then quickly diving down and under so he could rejoin his younger brother’s side.

He reminded him of a seal, Donnie thought distantly to himself. Not because he wasn’t graceful on land. He was. For someone as big and bulky as him, he could be shockingly nimble when he wanted to be, and he honestly didn’t give himself enough credit for it. It was more because of just how much more graceful he was in the water. The way he moved. Just like a seal-- gliding along effortlessly, almost elegantly with how poised and controlled his movements were, despite his size. Strength and power and finesse and precision all at once. Sometimes Donnie was jealous.

The journey over to the ladder wasn’t a difficult one. He probably could have swam. He was tired, and he was trembling, but not so bad that he couldn’t swim across a mere four lanes. But he wall-walked anyway and Raph lingered nearby, taking care not to crowd him but sticking close regardless, just in case, until they made it to the side of the pool. And Donnie climbed out, and then so did Raph, and Donnie managed to last about thirty seconds of being outside of the water before he, just as predicted, started to break apart.

He didn’t want to be touched right now, and gravity had its hands wrapped firm around each of his limbs and was pulling him, and it was horrendous. He just managed to get himself to the nearby bleachers, luckily not more than a few feet away, shaking like a leaf as he clawed his swim cap and goggles off of himself, tossing them aside, not caring where they ended up, just suddenly wanting them off. He hated how the air felt on his wet skin. He hated the weight to each of his limbs. He hated everything, he hated existing, and everything was toppling down around him and threatening to drown him now that he was on dry land. He curled himself up into a little ball, ducking his head down between his knees, and he wasn’t crying, exactly, and he wasn’t totally panicking either, but he was real close to both of them and a short, high-pitched whine escaped from him without his consent. 

Something is wrong. Something is wrong. Something is wrong.

He felt awful.

The hunger was clawing again.

There is nothing inside me that will hurt me, he reminded himself desperately. There is nothing inside me that will hurt me. I have not put anything inside, so I know for a fact-- there is nothing inside me that will hurt me.

“Hey. Hey, it’s alright. You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna go home as soon as Leo gets back,” Raph soothed, crouching down next to him. “You’re doing good. Just deep breaths. Let me go grab your water bottle for you real fast so you can drink somethin’, alright? That’ll help--”

 His heart jumped through his chest and his throat threatened to close up for a moment, the wobbly very-beginnings of a sob catching against his teeth. He shook his head sharply, every muscle in his body tensing as his breath escalated in its already rapid pace. No. No, he didn’t want that. He didn’t want his water bottle, and he didn’t want Raph to walk away from him, and he did not want to drink. It wouldn’t help. No. His throat was all dry and sticking together and his head was spinning and sore and pounding but he did not want that.

“Okay! Okay, alright, I don’t have to. I can stay,” Raph assured quickly, floundering just the tiniest bit, holding his hands up in surrender. Donnie grit his teeth, hissing out some noise that even he didn’t know the meaning of in response, drawing himself in tighter. And for a little bit, they were both just quiet, with Raph sitting there with him, waiting, watching, purposefully and audibly breathing slow and deep, and Donnie struggling to try to match him with his own ragged pants-- teetering on the very edges of a full panic attack and windmilling his arms wildly to avoid toppling over.

“Hey, Don?” Raph finally spoke again. “Can you lookit me for a sec?”

Donnie bristled, immediately shaking his head.

“I’m not askin’ for eye contact or anythin’, Donnie, I just wanna see your face real quick. You can keep your eyes shut, but can you just pick up your head a little? Please?”

Donnie whined, not really wanting to do that, either, but he did it anyway, just barely lifting his head. He couldn’t make himself meet his brother’s eyes, staring firmly down at the ground instead, and he felt like a fucking dog that get caught digging up the garden or something. And that alone was almost enough to make him tear up. He waited for whatever would come next with this lump in his throat, anxious anticipation biting at his spine.

“When’d you last eat?”

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. He knew he would figure it out, but the confirmation was somehow devastating anyway. He knew he would. He wasn’t stupid. Of course he would catch him, of course he would--

 ‘Nauseous,’ he signed in a weak defense, but Raph didn’t budge and Donnie wasn’t the least bit surprised. He couldn’t even blame him.

“Donnie.”

He considered lying for a moment, but then thought better of it. It wouldn’t work anyway.

‘Breakfast,’ he signed, sniffling weakly.

“Okay, but when?”

He hated how smart his brother was, and how well he knew him.

‘Yesterday.’ He had a protein shake for breakfast yesterday.

Raph buried his face in his hands, a frustrated sigh escaping him, and Donnie immediately retreated back beneath the cover of his own folded arms, a choked little hiccup escaping him. 

“Sorry. Sorry. It’s not you. I’m not mad at you. Sorry,” Raph corrected right away, wincing slightly. “I’m not… mad. It’s alright. But-- Donnie. You have to eat. I know you know that!”

Donnie frowned, hunching his shoulders slightly, his face all shoved up against his knees. 

‘I know.’

“Then why aren’t you? Did something happen?”

He stiffened a little, shaking his head.

‘I just don’t want to.’

“Donnie.”

‘It’s easier.’

“Don.”

‘It’s so much easier to just not--’

“Donnie,” Raph pressed. “I know. Okay? I know. But usually, you do it anyway! Usually you don’t do this! What happened?”

‘It’s stupid.’

“Okay. Look. I dunno if you know this or not, Don, but you’re pretty damn smart. So your definition of stupid is usually pretty skewed,” Raph scoffed softly. “So can you please just… tell Raph anyway?”

Donnie frowned, keeping quiet for a second, his nose scrunched up and his lips curled. And it took him a second before he finally signed a response.

‘Did you know Sierra is a vegan?’

Raph blinked slowly, seeming a tiny bit taken aback, just for a moment, before tilting his head to the side. “Sierra from your robotics team?”

Donnie nodded.

“Uh… No?”

‘I didn’t either!’ Donnie signed, this tiny, humorless, pained little laugh escaping from him. ‘But I do now! And all the reasons why she is, and about how she won’t eat anything with GMO’s or preservatives or artificial anything and a million other different things, and why, all in excruciating detail. We discussed it yesterday during lunch. And I learned so much shit that I didn’t want to know! And god, half of it is probably conspiracy theory bullshit that’s not even real, half of it sounds totally ridiculous and completely implausible by all rational, scientific standards, but I-- I don’t want to look it up! What if it is? And even if it’s not real, it doesn’t even matter! It’s not gonna help! And that’s the worst part!!! So what’s the point!?’

Raph sighed a bit. “Donnie…”

‘And it’s-- it’s so dumb! Because I don’t even believe in any of that stuff! I don’t agree with half of the stuff she said! It’s all stupid bullshit that probably isn’t real and not based on any sort of evidence, so I don’t know why I care, because I certainly don’t want to! I have no idea why this is bothering me so bad because it’s random and dumb and it shouldn’t! But I do care now, apparently, and everything feels gross and bad and wrong and I don’t-- I don’t want to. I can’t. It just. It feels so bad all of a sudden. I cannot fucking do it. I threw up, like, four times yesterday, Raph.’

Raphael visibly winced. And Donnie winced, too, and frowned, curling and uncurling his toes, rocking back and forth just the tiniest bit as he yanked at his own twists, rolling them between his fingers.

Raph kept quiet for a minute, and then he breathed deep out through his nose, and inhaled sharply.

“Okay. First of all. That ain’t stupid,” he said, and then hesitated a second. “Well. I mean. It’s a little stupid. I mean. The shit that Sierra said is probably mostly stupid. And your brain latchin’ on and bein’ anxious about it and givin’ you a hard time is kind of stupid, too,” he admitted. “... But that doesn’t make you stupid! I mean. It’s not like that’s your fault! You’re just… stuck dealin’ with other people’s stupid! And that’s dumb and it sucks, but it ain’t your fault!”

Donnie frowned, huffing very softly.

‘I should be able to figure it out,’ they argued, though half-heartedly. ‘I should be able to deal with this by now.’

“Okay, that’s stupid,” Raph said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just because you do somethin’ really hard for a long time doesn’t mean it’s never gonna be hard ever again! You just get good at handlin’ it. But it’s still hard! Shit’s still gonna be hard sometimes! And, like, yeah, this is hard for you. But different things are hard for different people! And I know that sounds corny or whatever, but listen,” he fixed Donnie with a hard look. “Raph thinks math is hard. Like. I think that algebra is crazy hard! But you don’t! So does that make me stupid? Or mean that I shouldn’t need your help with that stuff anymore? ‘Cause I should just figure it out?”

Donnie sighed softly, rolling his eyes. Curse him and his ‘turn it around on him’ type logic. He pursed his lips into a pout, very reluctantly signing ‘no’ in reply.

“Then shut up. It’s fine if this is a hard thing! And it’s fine if you need help! Especially ‘cause you do deal with it, like, literally every day! And you usually do a good damn job!” Raph argued. “But no one expects you to be perfect at it all the time, Don! Second of all--”

Raph relaxed his posture again slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.

“This sucks. And it’s hard and shit. But it’ll be okay. Leo’s gonna be back any minute now with your stuff, and we’ll call a cab and get you back home. And we’ll talk to Dad. And we can call Mossy. And we’ll figure it out. Alright? And look,”

Raph sighed deeply, frowning a tiny bit, his brows twitching down just the tiniest bit, creasing in the middle.

“Raph’s not gonna let anything hurt you, okay? Not even stupid preservatives or GMO’s or whatever the hell else Sierra said. I promise.”

Donnie stared at him for a second, slowly processing what he just did.

I’m sorry. Did his big brother actually just… swear to defend him from… GMO’s?

That was so fucking stupid.

He laughed for real this time, starting as a weak, watery little giggle and then quickly evolved into full-blown cackles. It kind of hurt his stomach, honestly, but he didn’t even care right now.

Oh my god. This was so fucking stupid.

Why did that actually make him feel so much better?

‘Okay,’ he signed, chuckling weakly and scrubbing at his face a few times. ‘Okay.’

Raph smiled, giving a firm nod in response.

“Okay,” he echoed.

#eating disorder #disordered eating #anxiety #paranoia #mental illness #panic attacks #hurt/comfort #donnie has a hard time but his family loves him and he will be okay #vomit ment #but no actual vomit #rottmnt #rottmnt human au #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt raph #sorrywhatnowau #sorrywhatnowau fanfic #rottmnt fanfiction #tmnt #fanfic #also yes this is a little bit of a vent fic #but before anyone asks #ITS OKAY :D im in therapy #and my therapist said that ninja turtles is an okay coping mechanism <3 #i wanna do more of these so if anyone has any suggestions #or smth in particular they wanna see #lemme know and ill consider it!

[ansiedad-oculta]

Tengo ganas de echarme un sueñito, de esos donde te llora toda la familia

#ansiedad #caos de pensamientos #familia #soledad #citas de libros #citas en español #desolada #literature #llorar #pensamientos #depresion #depressing quotes #mente depresiva #chica depresiva #family #citas de la vida #libros #soledsd #desilusión #caos mentales #caostalgia #nostalgic #nostalgia

[hollyhomburg]

(tw) no one ever talks about how scary it is being mentally ill and being all alone with it like, i know if i don't do the things i'm supposed to do today i will end up in a very bad place. but all i want to do is crawl back into bed and not fight it because i am so exhausted. there is no one else here to make me do these things. No one here but me.

#sometimes i wonder if i'd have gotten better if i'd had some big blow up when i was like 13 or 16 or 19 #like if i'd actually tried to kill myself and ment it my family would have probably gotten me help and #i wouldn't be 27 with no desire to keep going.

[neptunefairytales]

The seller looks nice!  As well as the shelves!

She even have a little familiar!

(Personnal pic. Please reblog. Do not use or repost. Thanks! NSFW AND KINK ACCOUNTS DO NOT INTERACT !!!)

#sylvanian families #calico critters #toys #Furry #Halloween #toy #toycore #dollhouse #witchy vibes #witch #art #photography #diorama #cat #Re-ment #Dark Academia #my art #Lolita #Harry Potter

[one-black-rotary-phone]

Griffin Stagg Headcanons

Headcanons for the youngest boy in the cast: Griffin Stagg. No reader. Will update as I think of more.

TW for bullying, kidnapping, violence, death, gore (mentioned), does teeth count?.

Griffin is max eleven years old; probably ten. He's easily the youngest of the group. In fact, I headcanon he's a few months younger than Gwen. He uses this to his advantage, though, always bragging about how he'll live longer than her because he's younger. Not quite how it worked out, unfortunately.

I headcanon he's got an older brother who went to university/college recently before his kidnapping/death. He was pretty close with his brother; he always took Griffin out to play games or get food or just hang out. His brother was his closest friend, considering he barely had any friends of his own. His brother immediately came back home after he went missing to look for him, too.

This doesn't stop typically sibling fights, though. If you read my headcanon on who's the biggest tattletale, Griffin is number one. And his brother is not exempt from that. Growing up, they would constantly threaten to tell on each other for stuff and kept their word about it, too. Still, they always felt at least a little bit guilty about it, and would apologise and try to get each other out of trouble if the punishment was truly that bad.

Since his older brother's in college, his parents are on the older side. I don't know why but I feel like his mother would have arthritis in her hands, so as a little kid he had to be careful to not yank her around too hard. His father, on the other hand, is as fit as anything. They both take on pretty stereotypical roles in the family; his mother being a bit of a housewife (she still has a job, though) and his father doing all the handiwork.

Griffin's also had a lot of pet fish growing up, partly because he's a bit scared of dogs and is allergic to cats. They've always been some variation of goldfish or fighter fish, and always have the most classic names possible. "Goldie" or "Sunshine" or "Bluey" or some name based on some famous boxer were the most common. Strangely, no matter how similar they looked, he could always tell them apart. Or so he thinks, at least.

However, life wasn't all Lesley Gore's Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows. He was bullied a lot during his early years of school for having no friends. In turn, the bullying pushed people away from wanting to be his friend because they didn't want to join in on getting bullied. It only really died down because Griffin just didn't become a fun target after a while. He was too boring and didn't have as much of a reaction as the bullies wanted. He wasn't emotionless to it--don't get me wrong--but he just wasn't as explosive as they wanted.

Still, people didn't really want to be his friend after it. Griffin wasn't exactly considered cool either, so that tarnished his reputation a bit. He pretended to like being left alone, but it did get to him. Still, he's a "two's company, three's a crowd" type person. He just wants one friend outside of his family. Is that really too much to ask?

Ankle-biter of a child. If he gets forced into a fight his first weapon of defense is his teeth. Will sink those guys into whatever he can get to first. And they're sharp, too. He will draw blood if he's not careful.

Speaking of ankles, when he was a little kid he'd cling to his mother's leg when being dropped of at kindergarten/preschool. He'd cry and cry about having to go (something that would come back to haunt him in the future). Griffin definitely had some separation anxieties as a kid. Nowadays he's just lonely. Poor guy.

This kid loves candy apples. What more can I say? They're tasty. It's his favourite treat.

He also is a big Halloween fan. He loves to watch whatever horror movies his parents will let him. He barely even gets scared during them. The only thing he doesn't like is massive gore. It makes him feel uncomfortable. Though, he also likes to dress up the skeletons in his front yard with silly outfits. And there's always the love of trick-or-treating, too.

He gets good grades naturally. He's in an easier stage of school, so he'd definitely have to study more in future grades, but for now he's cruising.

Okay, now for some I'm taking from @tnmdfhgkg. 1), He'll do anything for a dollar (a dollar was worth more back then okay). 2), he's a shit-talker about other people, but 3), he's very nice once you get to know him. 4), he gets a lot of bug-bites during summer (mainly mosquitoes), and 5), he's a messy eater. Oh, and 6), he's the silliest goober in town; takes nothing seriously when he's in a goofy mood (always). Hope it's okay to tag you!

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Will update this as I think of some more!

#also what should we call his family members? #i'm thinking of calling vance's mother Marissa #the phone rings #bullying tw #violence tw #kidnapping tw #death tw #child death tw #gore ment tw #tbp #the black phone #the black phone 2022 #tbp hcs #the black phone hcs #tbp headcanons #the black phone headcanons #griffin stagg #tbp griffin #teeth tw

[matt-w-blogging]

Reasons why I frequently make my friends and family baked goods/confections:

So they'll never feel desperate enough to betray me for turkish delight

Love I guess

#look the boy was on sugar rations and like eleven #his prefrontal cortex still had fourteen more years to develop and war rationing certainly wasn't helping that #however i am blessed with access to a variety of foods including sugars #i have even gone to the lengths of perfecting a chocolate cake recipe that is gluten-free and vegan and as good as its normal counterpart #because nobody in my family can eat anything lmao #anyway if youve read all this and want the recipe lmk and i can share it #narnia #edmund pevensie #ed pevensie #the chronicles of narnia #chronicles of narnia #edmund narnia #narnia edmund #food #food ment #food cw #cw food #tw food #food tw #food mention

[okapiandpaste]

that one post about the person w/ cool anarchist parents is so funny to me bc. it's actually close to my household dynamic. my mom is a punk with purple hair and my dad is an autistic nerd who was one of the first ppl to teach cartoon-related film studies at a university. they were both literature professors and say they can't get divorced bc no one else would understand their literary/film references.

#family ment #me posting crud #both of my siblings and i inherited my dad's autism #and my mom's gender non-conformity. #my italian grandma w/ a brooklyn accent also lives with us. #world's most normal family dynamic

[eiko82]

Happy birthday, Calytrixie on Twitter!! I hope that you enjoy this photo of Loid and Yor enjoying anmitsu together.

#Loid Forger #Yor Forger #twiyor #Loid x Yor #Spy x Family #nendoroid #goodsmile #nendoroid doll #rement #re-ment sweets #anmitsu

[coulsonlives]

#mental health #self care #toxic parents #toxic family #abuse #familial abuse #abuse ment cw #so true tho