TW Bullying

the time Shinsou met Eraserhead

- Eraserhead is little shinsou’s idol
- shinsou knows all about him! well, all that there is to know (which isn’t much, considering the low profile he keeps)
- but one day, something happens, something that’s a near mirror of a future encounter between a popular hero and a quirkless boy
- it happens when elementary schooler shinsou sees a man and realizes - that’s HIM
- that’s shinsou’s hero!! that’s ERASERHEAD!!!
- and young shinsou, he runs up to his idol
- with the little eraserhead toy his mom made for him (since there’s none in stores) clutched tight in his little hands
- those hands are shaking as shinsou asks - “can i be a hero? a hero like you?”
- aizawa looks at the young boy in front of him, crouches down, and asks - “like me?”
- and shinsou tells him, tells his idol how his quirk isn’t physical like most heroes’ are, and how his quirk won’t work, won’t be effective if everyone knows what it is, so he’s worried that even if he manages to become a hero, soon enough into his career it’ll just be useless
- and aizawa cocks his head, thinks a bit, and then tells shinsou a few things about how he does his hero work and what it means for a hero to have a non-physical quirk
- he’s not going to give a tiny child battle advice, but he makes sure to encourage and reassure him a bit
- and then, then
- aizawa, aizawa asks shinsou what his quirk is
- and shinsou gets nervous and fidgety
- aizawa tells him that it’s okay, that he doesn’t have to tell him his quirk
- and shinsou is ready to cry because this is all so overwhelming
- (his mom watches nervously because she just wants her little boy to be okay and happy and doesn’t meeting your heroes never end well?)
- and shinsou whispers it out, whispers how he can control people, can make them do anything, but only after they respond to him
- and aizawa, he puts it together from all the hints, he realizes that this little boy probably has people being mean to him because of his quirk
- (is this because aizawa was bullied? because maybe aizawa once was a child just like shinsou, would get beat up even when he took his bullies’ quirks away? it’s possible)
- and aizawa just looks shinsou in the eye
- and tells shinsou -
- “that sounds like a FANTASTIC quirk. perfect for fighting villains”
- (shinsou tears up real fast, he’s positively BEAMING at this point)
- aizawa leaves shinsou with a parting comment as he pushes himself up into a standing position
- “I can’t wait to work with you one day”
- “…work with me?”
- “work with you, yes. as heroes. good luck, i know you’ll be a great one.”

- (years later, aizawa smiles when he sees a boy in the sports festival with a mind control quirk, smiles as he recognizes the quirk and thinks back on an old memory)
- (“shinsou hitoshi,” he whispers to himself. “i gotta remember that name.”)

it’s kinda fucked up that bullying is treated like a “soft trauma” or not REALLY a serious kind of trauma/abuse just because the abusers are generally other kids, because it’s honestly so damaging. it stays with you. it fucks with your sense or self, your self-esteem, your ability to trust people and make meaningful relationships. 

like yes those bullies ARE kids who generally don’t understand the consequences of their actions and i don’t doubt that most of them grow up not to be awful people but the damage they cause is real and people just………don’t take it seriously

Camp food

“Nichole, that’s not how a lady sits” the girl’s mother didn’t even look up from her book. It was as if she could simply feel the bad posture.

Nikki tried her best not to groan and sat straight up.

“Feet flat on the floor.”

She shifted her position so that she was no longer sitting on her feet, and they dangled just above the floor.

“Feet flat ON the floor. If they dangle, you’ll just kick your feet like you always do.”

Nikki scooted a bit forward so that her feet could reach the ground. It was taking everything in her power to not just inhale her meal and run off to go play.

But now there was a new problem, her right leg was shaking.

This wasn’t a new problem for Nikki, she used to claim it meant it was happy, but her mom told her that it was disruptive and needed to stop. She made a conscious effort to try and will her leg to stop, but it kept shaking as if dancing to a song no one else could hear.

Her mother simply looked up. That slight, almost unnoticeable motion was enough to make Nikki freeze in place.

“This is a dinner table, not a jungle gym. You can play when you’re finished Nichole.”

“I’m sorry mom…”

“If you’re sorry then fix it.” Nikki nodded and stepped on her right foot with her left. Her feet weren’t flat on the ground, but at least her leg wasn’t shaking.

She hadn’t even touched her food.

It wasn’t that her mom wasn’t a good cook, she was great, but every dinner was an exercise in remembering how to eat. It took years just to get which utensils go on which side of the plate. Nikki didn’t see the point, nor did she understand why you even needed more than one fork. They’re all forks, and she has two perfectly good hands anyway, no utensils needed.

She’d never actually try that though, at least not with her mom right there.

“Nichole, stop picking.” She froze again, she didn’t even realize she had been picking. Looking down, one of the scabs on her arm was bleeding. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, Nikki was always playing with or picking at things, be it loose thread, one of her many bandaids, or the wounds they cover. It got especially bad when she was nervous.

“Hey mom? I’m not really super hungry.”

“Put plastic wrap on it and put it in the fridge, we’ll try again later.” This always happened. She was beginning to forget what warm food tasted like. At least not warm food that hadn’t been microwaved only to go back in the fridge without having a bite taken out of it.


“Camp?” Nikki looked up from the sand box. She wanted to dig for pirate treasure other places but she didn’t get yelled out when she dug here.

“Yes, I was thinking of sending you to a summer camp,” the woman smiled slightly seeing her daughter’s excitement.

“Like outside? In nature?”

“Absolutely. I think it’ll be just what you need.”

“Will it have fun games and adventures?! Can I wrestle bears and befriend wolves and make new friends?”

“You can do… some of those things, yes.”

“Thank-you thank-you THANK-YOU” Nikki jumped up and hugged her mom’s leg. “What’s it’s name? Where’s it at?”

“The sleepy pines. They’re called the flower scouts.”


The first week hazing had been bad, but Nikki took it in stride, initiations were always like this on TV. She was tough though and while these girls were… well girly, Nikki wanted to be their friends more than anything. This was her chance to go to camp and make friends and go on adventures with them. She didn’t want to blow this.

The second week was worse, they stopped being friendly all-together. They started calling her things like “weirdo”, “freak”, “disgusting”, they made it a game to get up and move when she’d try to sit with them. What’s worse, they’d give the same treatment to everyone who tried to be nice to her. It wasn’t long before the whole camp avoided her like a plague. She started to feel like that’s what she actually was.

Why wasn’t she normal? If she was, then her mom wouldn’t be so disappointed in her. If she was, these girls would want to be friend. If she was, then she wouldn’t feel so lonely.

The final straw was something simple. She was sitting alone for dinner, like she always did. She didn’t have to worry about eating a certain way, it’s not like using forty forks like her mom told her would suddenly make everyone give her another chance. The food was delicious too, these camp chefs were apparently hired from France. Still, it felt so lonely.

“Ew, she’s peeling her scabs!” Nikki was brought back from her daydreams by the entire mess hall pointing and staring. Some of them even took out phones to take pictures.

“She’s such a fucking freak!”

“Do you think she eats them?”

“Probably, it’s like she’s not even human.”

“She’s probably not, she’s an ugly rat.”

“Eww, what if she has bugs?”

Nikki felt like a trapped animal, which is exactly what they thought she was. She backed a couple paces away from the table before running out of the cafeteria, tears forming in her eyes.

It didn’t take her long to flag down a counselor and ask to use a phone.

“Hello? Residence of doctor-”


“Nichole? Are you calling from camp?”

“I…” she sniffed, “I wanna go home! I don’t like the flower scouts! They don’t do adventures or even go into the woods! A-and they’re mean and I don’t wanna be a flower scout, I wanna be a Nikki.”

There was a long sigh on the other side, “Are you sure you can’t stick out for a couple months?”

“N-none of them like me, they think I’m we-e-e-eird.” She sobbed, and wiped her nose with her sleeve.

“Sweetie, this wouldn’t happen if you just acted like a lady” Then the realization hit Nikki, she sent her there to try and change her, she wanted her daughter to act like these mean kids.

She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. “I wanna go home.”

“…are you sure?”

“Mmhm.” She sniffed

“Alright, I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“…okay. I love you.” She was answered with a repeated beeping, indicating her mom had hung up.


The mess hall was… well a mess. Max had convinced Space kid that the astronauts ate toothpaste and now there’s mint scented vomit all over that table. Nerris, having witnessed that, failed her constitution saving throw and lost her lunch as well. Then David, walking in without a care in the world, slipped on it and ate shit.

Max was basking in the situation he created, trying to get a handle on his hysterical laughter. Neil completely lost his appetite and pushed his tray away. Nikki hadn’t really noticed any of it, she was just scarfing down her food, completely spaced out.

Max snapped in front of her, “Nik, are you even seeing this?”

“Huh what? That’s a lotta barf.”

“Not the barf, well yeah the barf, but I meant David. He nearly fucking faceplanted in it!” Max laughed even harder when he noticed how much Neil was gagging. Nikki smiled more.

“Sorry I was out of it,” she said. “I was eating.”

“How can you eat this shit anyway? It’s not even real food.” He’s right, it couldn’t compare to home cooked meal, and especially not something made by professional chefs. But sitting here in perched frog on Lilly pad position, with her right leg shaking away, between her two best friends who, while flawed, love her for who she is and not despite it… she couldn’t ask for a better dinner.

“I dunno, it’s just good.”

“Whatever Nikki.” That’s right, she wasn’t Nichole, she wasn’t a flower scout. She was Nikki, and she was where she belonged.

There are some specific issues with a late diagnosis which are rarely talked about. The most noticeable one for me is how the environment fails to adjust to a late diagnosis.

I was diagnosed a few months prior to my eighteenth birthday. Which is actually not even that late.
However, many of the people who surround me seem to think that my diagnosis was “too late to take it serious”, in a way.

Whenever I ask for things that I didn’t ask before, I’m not only met with reluctance but with resistance.
It’s always the same - people say “well, this hasn’t been an issue prior to your diagnosis, so I don’t understand why it is now”. What they don’t understand is that I’ve always been struggling but only since my diagnosis, I know that my struggles are real and valid and that I’m allowed to ask for accommodations or changes that make my life easier. And when I explain this to them, they always tell me off. They tell me that I’m lying even though I’m known for my honesty (which is actually a huge indicator for me being autistic, but somehow they’d rather turn the facts and see me as a liar than admit that I have always been autistic and even noticeably so. They don’t want to acknowledge it because they don’t want to admit that they don’t know a thing about autism. Like, some of my friends literally said that autism to them means “a person has issues to talk with others”, which they don’t see in me which is why they deny that I’m autistic and even refuse to look into the resources about autism that I send to them). Before I got diagnosed, I was treated badly every time I spoke about my needs because people saw me as “overreacting”, “overly sensitive” and “overdramatic”. I’ve been bullied for YEARS because of these things, because to them, I was being “a sissy”.
And after almost two years as a diagnosed autistic, I can say that many people STILL perceive everything I self-advocate for in this mindset. That people STILL see my behavior as overreacting instead of keeping in mind that I am autistic and yes, for me it is as bad as I’m saying it is. That yes, I really get overly anxious around people (which leads to me rambling instead of not saying anything, which again doesn’t match many people’s view on autism) and that certain noises, lights and textures feel like someone is sticking needles inside my ears, eyes, brain and body.

For myself, I was able to make a lot out of my diagnosis. I gained a lot of self-esteem, unlearned internalized ableism in big parts and found new ways of coping. I also have a better sense for my needs now, because even though most people who surround me still don’t take them serious, at least I do now.
Many people mistake this again as “playing pretend”, because how can I only know now what I need? What they don’t want to understand is that as an autistic person, you have to pay much more attention to yourself in order to know what you need because living in itself is overwhelming and taking up a lot of space in our brains. (Heck, I don’t even realize when I’m thirsty 99% of the time… I can go three days without drinking and I don’t feel like my body is missing anything until I black out. Same goes for food. I need to pay conscious attention to how much I’m drinking and eating because I don’t even have this connection to my body that allistic people have.)

But it’s so tiring to not be acknowledged as an autistic person because my parents failed to send me to the right specialist when I was younger. Because they send me to an AD(H)D specialist and failed to send me to another after the results came out negative because they perceived me as a child who is “weird because they are gifted”. Who speaks like a grown up because they’re smart, who plays alone even if they have friends around because they have too creative daydreams and so on.
It’s tiring to always fight so that people treat me right because they are dismissive about my needs because they don’t even UNDERSTAND that I have them because I’m perceived as “too allistic” due to my late diagnosis.

As a late diagnosed autistic, I feel like I get automatically treated as some kind of “Watered Down Autistic™”, who just got the label “autism” slapped on themselves in order to have an excuse for all their quirks and “character flaws”. I feel like people view late diagnosed autistic people as “even less autistic than high-functioning autistic people” which is why they inflict further abuse on us and never consider us as autistic.

But what gets me most about this is how they don’t even realize what they do. That they’d rather keep on pretending that I’m not autistic no matter how much I speak up and tell them that it actively harms me and our relationship because it’s easier and more convenient for them to just dismiss my disability and demand from me to be like them. Because apparently, they hate disabled and autistic people too much to actually accept that one of their friends/family members is one of them.
Keep in mind that these people I’m talking about are my friends and family. They are the people closest to me, the people who claim to like me and have my best interest in mind… And to think that even people who interpret their relationship to me like this abuse me on a daily basis without even noticing or caring about it says a lot about ableism. And it also says a lot about how people who don’t like me or are close to me would treat me if they knew I was autistic.

Vanderweek Day 1

✿ Iiiiiiit’s Vanderweek! For day one, I’ve written out my HEAVILY headcannoned version of my Vanderwood’s backstory. Warning for mentions of dysphoria, harassment, bullying, child abuse, and some slurs.

I hope you enjoy! 

Throughout Mary Vanderwood the III’s life, they had discarded names, pronouns, and titles like most people discarded empty pens or splintered pencils.

On a hazy, smoke-covered morning at approximately 5:45am, the name ‘Oliver Poppins’ was written on a birth certificate, and an exhausted woman – so very young, too young to be a mother – was driven home by her similarly too-young, not-yet husband. The newborn cradled in her arms was a pudgy thing, oddly shaped as most babies are, with a frizz of blond hair and squinty eyes whose color reminded her of molten caramel. When she looked into his face for the first time, she knew she loved her child. She knew that nothing would ever keeping her from loving that child.

Unfortunately, the heart is weak and prone to wandering, and by the time Oliver was five, time had made a liar out of her. He was no longer a darling boy, but instead became a little brat.

[the rest is under the read more!]an

Keep reading

finally, after for-fucking-ever here’s part three of waxen!! enjoy!!! (warning, there’s a bit of bullying, so please be careful!)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Despite the weight of keeping his secret now being much lighter on his shoulders, it still sat heavy, crushing him a bit every time they failed the simulator test with Iverson. He heard it in the whispers of students in the halls, in Iverson’s clenched jaw as he was berated for crashing yet again.

He was failing. He was losing his chance to be anything, losing his chance to make his dream come true. All his life he had only dreamed of being a fighter pilot, and this thing, this– This disability was ruining his chances.

The voices hit his ears before he could block them out, drowning him and making him want to curl inward on himself. Hunk accepted it and hid it, Hunk supported him, but what good was that? Hunk couldn’t make him a better pilot. Hunk couldn’t improve his skills. Hunk couldn’t let him see color. He was stuck like this.

“Did you hear? McClain’s group failed the simulator again.” The voice he heard was unfamiliar and stung like a slap in the face. “For real?” Came another voice, though it didn’t sound much surprised. “That’s like, what, the sixth time this month? He should just give up, go back to being cargo class. Maybe then he’d actually make himself useful.”

When it comes to words, children can be cruel. Teenagers are much crueler. Their words are always laced with a venom that courses through their victim’s body and paralyzes them. It prevents them from saying anything in response, clamps their jaw shut, and forces them to just listen. Their words ache with a truth and tear the victim apart limb from limb.

Lance never much liked teenagers. Hearing these comments only made him hate them more.

‘It’s okay, Lance.’ A voice comforted in the back of his mind, quiet and soothing. It had an air of familiarity to it, and yet he couldn’t quite place it. ‘You’ll be okay. You’ll push through it.’

That afternoon, he cried to himself until all he could let out were dry sobs, voice shaking and rough. His throat hurt from wailing into a pillow, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He needed this, needed to release his emotions, so he then cried until Hunk returned from classes.

When Hunk had pushed the door open, he saw the state Lance was in and immediately took him into his arms, feeling the way his smaller friend trembled. He held him close, nosing into his mussed up hair to calm him, whispering words of encouragement that only Lance could hear.

“It’s okay,” He whispered. “You’re alright. I’m here now. You’re okay.”

Lance buried his face into Hunk’s shoulder for what felt like the millionth time, taking deep breaths to calm himself while his friend comforted him quietly. It took a few minutes but eventually, he was just sniffling a bit, wiping at his red-rimmed, tear stained eyes.

“Now, Lance… Talk to me, what’s wrong?” Hunk questioned, looking down at him with a tilt of his head while Lance wiped at his runny nose and tried to dry his face off. He hated being seen this way, so weak, but it was better Hunk than anyone else.

“I’m a defective… Defective pilot… The one thing I want to do I can’t! I suck!” He sobs into his shirt, fingers gripping at the fabric while Hunk just rubbed his back in slow, gentle circles.

“You’re not defective, buddy. You’re special. The fact that you can even fly is amazing, you know that?”

Lance knew Hunk was trying to help, but his chest only ached with his words, shaking his head. “No, I just,” He sighs. “Can we just sit like this for a while?” Hunk kept his gaze trained on Lance for a moment before breaking into a grin.

“Orrrrrr we could go out… Sneak out like you always want to.” He replies with a grin, shaking Lance’s shoulder a bit and patting his back.

He always seemed to know exactly how to cheer his friend up.

When Hunk had said go out, he hadn’t thought they’d be staying on property. He had expected to go out to the nearby town and maybe flirt with a few people, not go up to the roof and meet Pidge.

At the same time, he didn’t mind it. Pidge seemed cool enough, and any chance for Lance to make friends was a welcome time. So he happily snuck around the halls with Hunk, listening intently as voices and footsteps softened once officers moved past them. Anxiety often filled him every time they got close, but he pushed it away in favor of reassuring Hunk.

Once they finally reached the roof, Lance took a moment to take in the black and white night scenery laid out ahead of him, rock formations and all. The wind whipped past him for a few moments before settling into a gentle breeze, bringing with it a dry heat and the scent of sand.

Tiptoeing past Hunk, Lance snuck up behind Pidge, using his light weight to keep his steps silent. His slender fingers carefully lifted up one headphone, a smirk on his face. “Hey there. Whatcha doin’?”

A startled screeching sound erupted from the small boy in front of him as they looked up at him, eyes wide and chest heaving from the shock. “Holy shit Lance! Don’t scare me like that!” He shouts, one hand on his chest.

Hands raised in defense Lance plopped down next to him and hummed for a moment as he looked over Pidge’s computer screen, rubbing his chin. “What’s all this? Looks like gibberish to me… And this definitely isn’t Garrison tech.”

Pidge gave him a look like what he had said was completely obvious and he should have noticed earlier, making Lance huff a bit as the short boy replied. “Well yeah, I built it.”

“You built it?” Lance splutters incredulously, watching Hunk sneaking closer before reaching out to touch the computer. As soon as his fingers came within inches of the side of the screen, Pidge reaches over and smacks his hand away with a glare.

“No touching. Yeah, I did. For.. Looking at stars. Yeah, stars.” He waves a hand around for added effect, but Lance isn’t convinced in the least. With all the experience from handling his siblings and their awful lying, he can see right through Pidge’s.

Instead of saying anything though, he merely gave the small technician a brow raise and the neutral face of disappointment before Pidge gave it up, turning back to his laptop with a heavy sigh.

“Alright, alright. It’s a computer I made to listen to alien chatter. They keep saying one word, over and over. Voltron. And tonight it’s going crazier than ever.” He explains, pointing to the word in his notebook. He must have been going to say something else because his mouth was hanging open, ready, but he was interrupted by Lance.

“Um, what is that?” The Cuban asks in slight disbelief as he points to something blazing white across the sky, moving closer at an alarming rate. Hunk looked as if he was going to hurl, face contorted into a look of nervousness as he waved a hand around.

Watching the others moving closer to the edge of the roof, binoculars in Pidge’s hand, he spoke up to try and distract them from it. “Maybe it’s just a comet or meteor! A really fast… Really big… Meteor.”

“That’s no meteor,” Lance shot back after taking a glance through the binoculars and watching as a ship hurled through the sky, seemingly pilotless. “That’s a ship. And it’s not one of ours.”

As he handed the little gadget over to Pidge a loud crash was heard as the alien ship made contact with the hard desert earth, smoke pouring into the sky as flames lit on the purple metal surface.

Sharing a look with his two friends and teammates, a grin slowly spread on his face before he began to dash down the stairs that lead up to the roof, closely followed by Pidge and Hunk. “Come on, slowpokes! Let’s go check it out!”

Let’s just say that what they found in the spaceship is not what any of the Garrison trio were expecting.

Instead of finding a terrifying alien lifeform or a cryptid, they found Takashi Shirogane, the pilot of the Kerberos mission. Now they were sitting in Keith’s desert shack, talking about something the dumb mullethead had found in the desert after getting kicked out.

It was a lot to process and Lance was barely paying attention as he shook his hero’s hand and half-listened to the conversation around him. He gazed around the black and white room for a while before his eyes fell onto Keith, his partial rival.

His eyes scanned his face quietly, taking in the pale gray features and the dark eyes that stared at Hunk as he talked about someone’s diary. Long lashes and a slightly endearing mullet adorned his face. Whatever color his jacket was… definitely went with his face though. And his eyes.

Maybe Keith wasn’t as bad as he remembered him.

Snapping his own eyes away when he saw Keith move, he instead watched him snatch something out of his best friend’s hands and hold it up to his Cryptid Board.

“They match.” Pidge breathed next to him, soft in their stunned silence.

“Then that’s where we need to go and look for this foreign element.” Shiro decided, being the voice of reason as always. “We’ll go in the morning, it’s too dark to go now. Someone might get hurt.”

And so they slept, preparing themselves for whatever they may find.

anonymous asked:

The street rat AU is so precious! I love it! Could we get some more of that please?

Looking up at a warning beep, Qui-Gon shifted his long legs to get up and leave the garden, grumbling a bit. He had only just reached meditation state damn it, he didn’t want to vacate the garden just yet.

But the only other option would be to get wet by the rain cycle falling.

He’d almost left the room when the Force gave him a little tug.

It was almost small enough that Qui-Gon didn’t notice it but he did and therefor turned back to the garden even as water started to fall and moisten his tunic.

‘Well then, what now…’ He wondered as he let the Force guide him back into the meditation garden as water fell all around, giving the plants the nourishment they needed.

Uncaring of his water soaked tunic and hair, Qui-Gon moved to the middle of the room and looked about, frowning a bit in confusion when the Force stopped. And then he heard something that was not rain falling.

A snuffle that was followed by a little hiccup.

Qui-Gon reached out with his Force ability and almost groaned when he brushed against an all to familiar signature in distress. “Obi-Wan?” He offered worriedly, hearing a small shuffle and then the rustle of a bush. “Obi-Wan I know you’re there, come out little one.” He offered more calmly.

The air filled with hesitation before there was another rustle and Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan moving towards him.

Crawling out of a few bushes to the left of the Jedi Master, Obi-Wan came into sight and straightened up, blinking at the master.

And suddenly Qui-Gon saw exactly why the other had been hiding away.

Obi-Wan was sporting a black eye and a split lip, there was blood on his tunic and he was shaking, his clothing soaked by the rain cycle.

“Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon moved to him and knelt down, blue eyes wide in shock and worry as he put large hands on slim shoulders. “Child what happened?”

The little one trembled before pushing himself into Qui-Gon’s arms, hiccuping. From the state of his unswollen eye, it was clear that Obi-Wan must have been crying for hours from the redness.

“I’m taking you to the Healing Halls Obi-Wan. Right now.” He wrapped his arms around him and stood, feeling the child stiffen but not argue with him. That was cause for worry too as he hurried out of the gardens with a soaked and injured child on his arm.

“Master wha-Obi-Wan?” Xanatos blinked at them as he meet them in the hallway. “What’s going on? Master did you get stuck in the gardens under a rain cycle again?”

“I was about to leave when I found Obi-Wan. He requires the Halls.”

That put Xanatos on alert as he followed them, noting how Obi-Wan was oozing with distress in the Force and didn’t lift his face from the master’s tunic, just clenched his tiny fists into the water darkened fabric.

“Obi-Wan?” He questioned, brows furrowing when all Obi-Wan did was hiccup. He looked to Qui-Gon instead, grey eyes full of questions.

“Obi-Wan has a black eye and a split lip.” Qui-Gon pinched his lips together and held the little one closer.

“Obi-Wan, did Chun do that?” Xanatos questioned in alarm and cursed quietly when Obi-Wan flinched at the question. He quickly separated from his master to go find the creche master in charge of Obi-Wan.

“Did he Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon questioned more quietly as they reached the Halls.

“…Yes.” The little imp whispered and then the healers descended on them.

Qui-Gon set the child down on a bed as the healer carefully looked at the swollen eye and split lip, tutting softly in worry as she touched him. Then he accepted the towel one of the apprentice healers gave him, carefully drying Obi-Wan’s hair first before accepting another for himself.

Creche Master Dolan arrived just as the healer started on Obi-Wan’s swollen eye, the man taking a sharp breath before moving forward while Xanatos slid to Qui-Gon’s side to observe quietly. “Oh Obi-Wan, we’ve been looking everywhere for you.” The man murmured worriedly even as Obi-Wan flinched in the healers grip. “Child what happened?”

The redhead looked at all the adults, his distress ramping up as he was overwhelmed by all the attention. Qui-Gon took the creche master by the arm. “Perhaps we should let the healer finish before we ask him. Master Dolan, may I have a word?”

“Of course Master Jinn.” He followed, giving Obi-Wan another worried glance as Xanatos settled close and took the Initiates hand, holding it as he was healed.

“I found him in one of the meditation gardens. Rain cycle.” Qui-Gon explained quietly. “He indicated that Initiate Chun was the cause of his distress.”

“I…see.” Dolan sighed and rubbed his face. “Bruck is…he seems to enjoy lashing out towards other Initiates. I was very worried when I couldn’t find Obi-Wan anywhere, we’ve been looking for him for hours.” He confessed quietly. “Normally I wouldn’t worry so much but he missed all his lessons, something Obi-Wan doesn’t do. He’s punctual to all his lessons.”

“Did you inform anyone?”

“I was about to when Padawan Du Crion came to fetch me. Thank you for finding Obi-Wan.” Dolan gave a half smile at him, a knowing one.

Qui-Gon smiled back before sighing. “What will be done about Initiate Chun, this is…this is far beyond normal taunting. I imagine he’s in good shape if you had no suspicions.”

“Yes, I will have to speak to the Council, perhaps get Bruck and his friends to go see the mindhealers and…” Dolan hesitated. “And I might have to put in the question if they are suited for the Jedi life.”

The Jedi master jerked to in surprise before nodding slowly in understanding. “I see.” What else could he say to that, it was a serious thing, this entire thing was serious.

“As it stands…I won’t bring Obi-Wan back to the creche while I deal with Bruck. Would you consider keeping him in your quarters for a few hours, make sure he eats and that he’s comfortable?” Dolan tucked his hands into his sleeves, staring up at Qui-Gon.

“Of course. He’ll need new clothes though, his are wet and bloody.”

“I’ll send one of the padawans in the creche with a new set.”

“Thank you Master Dolan.”

“No Master Jinn, thank you for finding Obi-Wan. We may not speak to loudly about it, but he is bright in the Force.”

The two shared small smiles.

To all the autistic people who have been bullied for being autistic

To those who were bullied for autistic traits, whether or not the bullies knew you are autistic

To those who were mocked and tormented for who they are

To those who were abused out of their autistic behaviors

To those forced into compliance either through ABA or bullying and abuse

Your stims are beautiful. The flapping of your hands, the rocking of your body, the bouncing, the spinning, all your stims are beautiful. I know that may be hard to believe with how many people have tried to convince you otherwise, but your stims are beautiful and you should be free to stim to your heart’s content.

You are not a broken version of a “normal” person. You are beautifully and uniquely autistic. You function on a different operating system, and while there may be challenges and struggles, there are also many good things. You see the world in a different way which allows you to see things others don’t. You experience the sensory world in a different way which can bring bounding joy. You are passionate and fierce, dedicated to what you love. 

I know your soul carries the battle scars of torment and abuse. I know it may seem like those scars will never fade. But one day you will be able to stim without fear. One day you will be able to infodump without feeling ashamed. One day you will be able to be yourself without all the baggage and pain. Hopefully that day is someday soon. Just keep pushing forward and doing your best to live authentically. Fight back against the voices of the bullies and abusers. I believe in you.

Live boldly

Live radically

Live autistically

anonymous asked:

can i have the tall and dark trio (germany sweden and russia) high school au react to their best friend/crush being bullied and afterwards? thanks! C:

Sure thing~! Ooo my first ask as an Admin! Thank you for sending this in. :) I personally love the Highschool AU or Gakuen Hetalia as it is sometimes called. That episodes was fun. I hope this is alright! I got a bit wordy. 

Germany: Once he finds out this is happening, he is immediately furious. Of course, he will stay calm around his best friend/crush because he wants to make sure they are taken care of (if they have any injuries) and that they know he’s there for them. His main focus will be helping them in any way that he possibly can (including teaching them the basics of how to defend themselves), and try to figure out ways to make sure that this doesn’t continue. He will eventually end up talking to the bully as well, and though he won’t hurt them, he will be very stern almost rude and make it clear that if this bully comes after his friend/crush again, there will be consequences. If necessary, he will go to an authority figure and demand that the bully either never interacts with them at school or is withdrawn from the school entirely. 

He will also probably be a bit protective of them after this, not to the point of it being an annoyance, but he will want to know if they’re still having problems and of course, will always be there if they want to talk. He might not be the best at making them feel better, but he will try and that’s endearing.

Sweden: Sweden won’t have an extreme reaction at the news of his best friend and crush being bullied, keeping a cool exterior because on the inside he is already deciding how to handle the situation. He is angry though, that much is certain but his immediate focus is to find this bully and put the problem to rest. His intimidating and cold aura should be enough to scare anyone, but if the bully doesn’t back down, then they will quickly find out why Sweden was once called “The Lion of Northern Europe”. Sweden is great with coercion, so his threats will be the end of the conversation and problem altogether. If the bully still tries to come after his friend/crush, action will be taken, probably in the form of Sweden kicking the bully’s butt out of the school, with or without approval from the ones actually running World Academy W. It’s doubtful this will be necessary though, because just one look from Sweden will send this bully running for the hills. 

Afterwards, he will awkwardly try to help them talk it out, but will mostly just listen to them. He struggles a bit with finding the words to let them know he cares, but still, the support is there. From that point on, he will keep a constant watchful eye on them. Even if he doesn’t necessarily bring it up, he will worry about them.

Russia: Whoo boy the person who bullied Ivan’s best friend & crush had better run. Why anyone would bully someone that Russia cares about is a mystery. He would first give them a big, slightly painful hug and allow them to pour out all their worries and pain to him, comforting them with gentle words. It’ll be a very sweet moment really and he will not leave their side until he is 100% sure that they are alright. He will make sure that they know he is there for them and to let him know if it ever happens again. He will also be secretly pleased that his crush/best friend feels close enough to him to talk about such important matters. As a victim of bullying himself, he knows how hard that can be and is sad that his friend & crush ever had to experience that. This will only make him even more terrifying when he finally hunts down the bully. Out of the entire Tall & Dark Trio, Russia’s reaction will most likely be the most violent. He just doesn’t want his friend/crush to ever have to go through that again and well … let’s just say that they never saw the bully again after that. :) 

Russia will be focused on helping his friend/crush get through any pain, whether physical or emotional, that they have suffered from being bullied. He’s very comforting. 

-Mod Lily <3

anonymous asked:

Could I have “Can I sit here? The other tables are full.” with SuFin please?? I love your blog and I'm looking forward to seeing what you do with the prompt! ❤️


I hope you like it :) 

Berwald was looking for a place to eat lunch inside the cafeteria. It wasn’t unusual that he had lunch all by himself. He was used to that. But he often sat in a particular spot, where no one could ever bother him and nobody would notice him at the same time.

But the place was full for some reason and he started to get anxious. He wasn’t sure where to sit.

His older brother was one of the popular boys but he didn’t want to go there. He already had to deal with him at home so that wasn’t an option.

Maybe he could wait there until someone left. It wasn’t the best the plan but what he could possibly do?

“Move away” Someone dared to push him and his drink almost spill out.

He had to find somewhere to sit. He took a deep breath. Being a shy guy was really hard in high school and most people felt like he was really scary, so the vast majority avoided to even talk to him.

After a while, he found a spot. There was someone in front who was also lonely for some reason. He was doubting.

He recognized the boy.  They had some classes together. It was true that they have never exchanged more than a couple of words. But Berwald always thought he was interesting and different.

Some of his classmates made fun of him on his back because he was somewhat eccentric.

Anyways he took the courage and went where Tino was sitting.

“Can I sit here?” Berwald timidly asked.

Tino was so busy sobbing that the swede had to repeat the question.

“You are not going to mock me, right?” Tino was trying to hide the fact that he was crying. He could’t stand up because he was sure that someone would notice it and he wasn’t ready to face another bully.

“I’m not” Berwald promised and when Tino nodded, the Swede sat down.

But he couldn’t eat his lunch with his fellow classmate in that state.

“What happened?” Berwald realized soon that he had asked a very personal question “I’m sorry, maybe you don’t want to talk about it”

Tino blew his nose before answering.

“They stole my lunch money and then…” Tino took a deep breath before continuing “They told me they were doing me a favor. That I needed to lose some weight anyways” The Finn laid down in the table, he didn’t want the swede to look at him.

Berwald tried to think in something.

“Can you take care of my stuff for a while?” Berwald couldn’t stay there without doing something for Tino.

The Finn nodded. He didn’t give a lot of thought about it.

He put his plate in the middle of the table and then he went to look for an extra plate, knife and fork. He asked the lady that served lunch for them.

“Let’s share it then” Berwald explained as soon as he returned to the table.

Tino wasn’t sure how to react. Why that guy was being so gentle with him?

“Are you going to make fun of me? Does the food have something in it?” Tino inquired. Maybe it was rude, but he was so used to people being assholes with him that he was suspicious of everyone there.

“No. I don’t want you to starve because of those bullies” Berwald explained with patience.

“I…” Tino didn’t have words to express how he felt in that moment “Thank you. Thank you so much. People said that you were creepy and…” Tino noticed that Berwald changed his expression to a sad one.

“Creepy?” He had heard and read a lot of stuff that his classmates said about him but that was the first time that someone referred to him as creepy.  He was hurt because he wasn’t sure what was he doing wrong to gain such fame.

“Oh, no! I’m sorry. I don’t think you are” Tino apologized immediately “I don’t believe what people of this damn school said. You are really nice and I’m sorry people don’t notice that” He responded.

Berwald was relief when he heard the explanation.

“Thanks” He really appreciated his kind words and for the first time he saw the beautiful smile that Tino had. He could stare at him for a very long time and wouldn’t get bored.

After that rough start, they both talked about their experiences. Well, Tino was the one who did most of the talk while Berwald listened to everything. He said.

When the bell finally rang, Tino was slightly disappointed. He wanted to talk more with his new friend.

“Can we meet up in the morning?” Tino asked.

“Really? You want to hang out with me?” Berwald was astonished. He wasn’t half entertaining as his older brother, so he was quite surprised.

“Yes! You are pretty cool!” Tino shouted “What do you say?” The Finn felt excited for the first time in a long time. He wanted to know Berwald better.

“Yeah, sure” Berwald smirked and Tino didn’t hide his surprise.

“See you tomorrow then!” Tino waved his hand before going to his class.

“See you” Berwald replied without stop staring at the Finn. For the first time he felt he had something to look forward the next day.