#← ALSO YOU NEED THERAPY

[owly-lumi]

I wanted to do this meme since I saw the S2 of Earthspark, but I had the inspiration after complaining about It with @sketchy-mf . so:

(ok time to going back to Ao3 reading Fanfiction pretending they're canon in my mind 🙂)

[batboopp]

bruce wayne they could never make me hate you. they could also never make me like you either. good god you are fucked up

[inkskinned]

he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.

except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?

at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.

except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.

about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.

he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.

[uncanny-tranny]

I recently had to do a project in one of my psych classes, and man, I knew that CBT was used for every little thing, but seeing over and over, "do CBT! CBT is the best for every mental illness!" was so jarring. I'm absolutely biased because of my own experiences, but I just don't think it's as universal a treatment model as it's touted.

If you didn't benefit from CBT, it's not because you're lazy or didn't try hard enough or lacked intelligence or foresight into your own needs. Frankly, it's a therapy model that (I think) shouldn't be the only readily-accessible model and among the only therapy models covered by insurance. Some of us should not be treated in a CBT model and that's okay. It's not a sign of poor character or unreasonable demands, and if you don't think it's a model that works for you, then it's your right to express that!

[ohpsshaw]

[I need you to go look up "ICICLE WORKS - I STILL WANT YOU" and start blaring that as loud as you can right now.]

So. Typhus and I have failed in our mission to get him into everyone's bedrolls. Turns out that traumatized vampire got hands. We didn't have the heart to break up with Astarion, and I think we're DnD married now. Please keep us in your prayers.

[thedisablednaturalist]

I think when people think of mental illness and what helps, especially with things like anxiety and depression, the treatment involves pushing yourself. Pushing yourself to get out of bed, to exercise, to take a shower, to go out in public, to order your own food from the cashier, etc.

And because the mental health movement has grown so much, people think that's the default of ALL illnesses. That the only way someone will get better is if they push themselves. That practice makes perfect. That you'll become more comfortable or strong over time the more you do something.

But what people need to realize is, with physical disabilities and chronic illnesses, pushing yourself in most cases is DETRIMENTAL. Pushing yourself past your limits can lead to flare ups or further injury. That's why it's important to know your limits, how certain activities may affect your condition, and learn how to either adapt or get help to complete the activity in question.

Also, most of us are already pushing ourselves. Most of us don't have access to the help or equipment we need. Most of us live in places where we frequently encounter inaccessible obstacles. Most of us NEED to rest.

So please don't try to be our physical therapists or doctors. There are people specifically trained to help us navigate our own conditions and limitations. There are people trained to help us strengthen our body's resilience without causing flare-ups or injury. Do not tell us "it'll be good for you" or "you need the exercise" when we say something is too heavy or too far or when we say we need our mobility aid(s). Your friend with depression may need to be encouraged to get out of bed, but your friend with chronic illness definitely doesn't.

Respect our rest.

[bet-on-me-13]

Steph's Year of Recovery

So! Danny noticed that a new face had made it's way into town. Two new faces actually, an older lady known as Dr Leslie, and a girl about his age called Steph.

He first met them when he was at the hospital for one of his parents. They had stood too close to an explosion again, and he met them while he was in the waiting Area.

Dr Leslie was a strict but obviously caring older woman, who seemed to be the one taking care of Steph as a kind of maternal figure, or maybe more like an Aunt. She greeted him simply and then walked away to talk with the Secretary, leaving him to talk to Steph.

Steph was a blond girl in a Wheelchair, and he could see bandages piking out of her clothes as he talked to her. She explained that she had been in an Accident a few weeks ago that left her wheelchair bound for a while, and that she had come to Amity for their surprisingly good Medical Centers.

He and Steph got along really well, and by the end of it he asked her for her Number so they could continue talking later. They stayed in touch, and when she was finally permitted to leave the Hospital, he introduced her to his friends. They all got along like a House on Fire, both figuratively and in one memorable case very literally (Vlad had pissed them off okay!)

Eventually Steph recovered enough that she moved from a Wheelchair to Crutches, and their shenanigans got even more chaotic (Vlad hadn't even pissed them off, this time was just for fun)

The only thing Danny could complain about was the fact that Steph was hiding something from them.

She said that she had been in an Accident a while ago, which was why they had come to Amity in the first place. But Danny knew it was more than that.

He could sense lingering traces of Death coming from her after all.

...

Steph honestly loved her current life.

Sure she had lost everything, her home, her health, her friends, her life, but she had gained new things too! Like Danny and the Gang! They were honestly some of the best friends she had ever had, and for some reason they just clicked with her instantly.

Danny was interesting and funny, Sam was vegan and a badass, Tucker was smart and witty, they all fit with her personality perfectly! It almost felt like she bad been friends with them for years. (She ignored the way her heart skipped a beat when she saw them)

But she still couldn't shake the sense that they were hiding something from her.

She knew it had something to do with the Ghost Problem in the town. And wasn't that a kicker, there was a whole Supernatural Ghost Outbreak in this Town and nobody knew about it. Dr Leslie had said that Amity was off the map enough to hide from Bruce, but she hadn't mentioned it was hidden from the Justice League itself!

Danny, Sam, and Tucker definitely knew more about it than they let on however. Whenever a Ghost Attack would happen, at least one of them would rush off with some practiced excuse and return after the Ghost Attack was over all dirty. She could guess what was going on, and she really didn't like it.

(This had killed her, she had died doing what they were doing, she didn't want to lose them)

Eventually she had to confront them, coincidentally on the same day they decided to confront her.

"Are you Vigilantes?" / "Did you die?"

"..."

"What?" / "What?"

[deadsetobsessions]

Alley Drunk!Danny pt.5

If Danny hadn’t thought about quitting and going to rehab before, he’s definitely going to do it now.

It had been one of those days. Danny had sluggishly managed to usher Jason to school- pulling himself together for their walk to the building, because he wasn’t stupid and this was still Gotham- before going home and relapsing. He knew, going into the first bottle, that he was going to regret it. But he still hadn’t felt the buzz, so he went out to get more.

“Just one. I can stop after, if I want to.”

Spoiler: he could not, actually, stop if he wanted to. Because he didn’t want to, which was the whole problem.

So, one bottle became two, two became three, three became six, and by the time the sun slipped below the horizon, Danny had a pile of bottles scattered around the couch and an intense look of self hatred set upon his brow. He was buzzed, but his stupid ghost biology refused to absorb anymore alcohol.

“Stop brooding, Danny. It’ll hurt your brain.” Jazz said, a hint of worry around her joking insult. “You’re forgetting something important.”

“Wha-?” He mumbled out back at the haze of her-hah- ghost.

The door clicked open. Danny whipped his head to wards the door, snarl on his face and ready to lunge at the intruder, when he came face to face with a scuffed up Jason.

They froze simultaneously, but before Danny could do anything, Jason’s hands tightened on the door knob. The kid’s eyes darted to the floor, where the bottles laid, and back up at Danny’s face. What he found there must not have been good, because he took a step back.

It was fear.

Danny felt his heart drop and his throat go dry. The self hatred doubled in size and weight, but he smacked it down in favor of scrambling for the words- anything- to fix the damage his stupidity and addiction caused.

“Jason.” He said, voice raspy. Had he been screaming again? Good start, good- nope. Never mind, Jason is using the door to shield himself now. Danny glanced outside and-

“Oh. I- I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.” He turned back to Jason, who eyed him warily. “I- I forgot to pick you, didn’t I.”

“…I can walk back by myself.” The hesitant but full of bravado reply made Danny’s ghostly obsession to protect rear its head.

“Still. I’m… I’m sorry, Jason.”

Jason evaluated him, noticeably eyeing his open hands and purposefully lax posture, before stepping inside. He doesn’t close the door behind him- clearly leaving it as an option just in case he needed to bolt. Danny stood up slowly. Jason watched him, and his hands. His smaller hands- Ancients, Danny was scaring a kid- curled up into fists.

“What… how did you get hurt?”

“Got mugged.”

“Are you okay? No- wait,” Danny flooded his liver and blood stream with ectoplasm, and his head instantly cleared. Ah, the agony of being coherent.

Danny subtly shook his head to clear his thoughts. Focus.

“Of course you’re not.” Danny stepped away from the incriminating bottles, slowing to a stop once more as Jason shifted backwards like he was either going to spring at Danny or bolt out the door. “Why don’t we get you patched up? And you can tell me about your day. That I missed, when I forgot to pick you up and that I’m really really sorry for.”

Danny held his breath as Jason considered it. “Are ya drunk?” Jason asked, tilting his shoulder to slide his Wonder Woman backpack down, hand clutching at the opposite strap. A good bludgeoning weapon, even if Danny would rather be electro shocked to death again before he ever hurt Jason.

“No.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, scoffing as he looked down again. Danny recognized the motion, a bolt of heavy nostalgia slamming into his chest as he remembered another red-head doing the same thing when he tried to bullshit his way out of something.

“I was buzzed but… I’m a meta. Alcohol doesn’t exactly affect me. I had to drink a lot to even get buzzed, and it’s gone now.”

“Y’er a meta?” Jason straightened, not completely losing the vigilance, but less tense.

“Yes. I’m completely sober right now, I promise.”

Jason stared at him, inhaled, and relaxed. “You better be.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Whatever.”

——

Danny placed the bandages over Jason’s cuts.

“I am so, so sorry I didn’t pick you up.”

Jason shoved at his shoulder, grumbling “I c’n do it myself.”

“I know. You don’t have to, though.”

The kid looked away for a moment before softly admitting, “I was… worried. Cuz, I thought somethin’ happened.”

Danny swallowed the lump in his throat. Jason slipped more into his alley accent the more upset he got these days, having learned some of the local accents at his new school and regularly swapping those out instead of sticking with his alley accent.

“Thank you. For worrying about me. I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.”

Point. From the mouth of babes came the painful truth, right?

“No. I’m not. But I will be. I’ll go to rehab, Jason. I don’t want to forget picking you up again.”

“Whatever.” Danny hid a smile as Jason ducked his head, looking endearingly like a grumpy duckling. Like, Jazz, when their parents made those blueberry ectoplasm pancakes she liked but thought they’d forgotten that she liked.

“And thank you, Jason, for coming back alive. I- I should have been there, but I’m so glad that you’re okay.”

“I want waffles and ice cream for dinner.”

“Yeah, we can do that.”

“Wow, you musta felt real bad if you’re letting me eat that for dinner.”

Danny grinned down at the head of black hair (with their red roots once more poking out) and ruffled Jason’s head. “I let you eat like five chili dogs in one go. This should not be surprising. But I’ll let you skip the veggies today too.”

“… No, I want the veggies too.”

Danny let out a bark of bright laughter.

Yeah, there’s no way he’s ever risking Jason looking at him like that again. The kid looked like he thought Danny would come swinging at him, despite their previous meetings where he had, perhaps and with plausible deniability, swung for Jason, but never against him.

That night, after he tucked Jason into bed, Danny signed up for rehab. As a matter of fact, Jazz’s words coming into mind, Danny also signed up for therapy. For him and Jason. Yeah.

——

Off camera, they talked about why Jason react to bottles and hands the way he does, and why he’s so scared whenever Danny slips back into his addiction. I’m just rlly too tired to write it.

——

Danny, who thought his addiction wasn’t that serious and that he could stop anytime because he stopped for Jason: I’m cured!

Also Danny: drinks as soon as Jason goes to school

Danny was one hundred percent using Jason as a crutch and when he felt like Jason was safe, he slipped back to his habits. The only reason Danny’s not dead- well, deader than he normally would be- is because ghost biology makes it so that alcohol is cycled through quicker. Like the Flash, but less fast? Anyways, he had enough to make him lose track of time and forget important things (Jason) and that’s what addiction can do to you, amongst other things.

Jason might seem calm but that’s actually a combo of his go to trauma response (fight) and his experience of 1) being on the streets and 2) living with a previous drunkard coming into play. Also, you might be like what kind of kid wants to eat veggies? And to that I answer: KIDS THAT NEVER HAD ENOUGH TO EAT. I would have killed for a veggie stir fry with a lot of chicken back as a kid lol

On a lighter note, the whole time they’re having this interaction, I kind of imagined it as two chickens just kind of dancing around each other.

[clockworkreapers]

Vol 3 Jack really went though it huh

[starlingstalk]

Ahhhhh Nyaaaaa

[dustbunsinspace]

Part of 🟢 Leo gets Overwhelmed au🟢

Aah, I’m so happy I made it in in time! 💙✨ Merry Christmas, tumblr nation! Here’s a little comic about 03 Usagi and Leo going so see the Rockefeller tree after the events of the Christmas Aliens episode.

Little post about events earlier that night

Also this is literally how maskless Leo looks to me, he’s so moomincore ;

[starry-bi-sky]

Who is the more well-adjusted twin; Damian, or Danyal? Why, it's Damian, of course!

And I have an explanation for this! But first I wanna preface this that this is just me like, rambling about this thought I have and it's not an attack on the trope as a whole. I love the Danyal Al Ghul au which is why i'm so deeply passionate about it, because I think it has a lot of potential to be explored. It's no secret that I've mentioned before that I think Danny's psychological development tends to get overlooked and underutilized in DAG aus, and the impact that growing up in an assassin league often goes ignored. This is just me further expanding on that.

Now lets set the stage! This is specifically for Danny who is adopted by the Fentons later down in life. Lets go twin au. At 10 years old, Damian goes to the Wayne Family, Danny is adopted by the Fentons (regardless of their affiliation with the League). By 14 years old, who ends up the better adjusted, more socially aware, spiritually in-tune with themselves, sibling? Why, Damian is! Why is that?

Because he has the actual support he needs compared to Danny. And I'm not talking about good or bad parents Fentons, because either way my opinion doesn't change. Damian would end up the better off twin, because, frankly, his family knows his background. They know he grew up in the League, they know what the League's teachings are, and they know he's a born and raised assassin. Knowing this, they can then help tackle and dismantle the teachings and lessons he has been given and ingrained into by the League. They may be a dysfunctional family, but they're functional enough to at least actively help deprogram all of the League's teachings that have been ingrained in Damian throughout his childhood.

Can't say the same for Danny.

Lets say Fentons here don't know his background -- and even if they do, the results may just stay the same if they play their cards wrong, -- Danny's now just been thrown into the deep end of a pool and is essentially being told sink or swim. Regardless of how he got there -- undercover, faked death, etc -- he has no proper support. He knows the League is meant to be secret, he's not gonna speak on it for various reasons. Whether it be some still lingering loyalty, fear of harm, or whatever. Whatever the reason is, he does not have a proper support system in the Fentons, no matter how nice they are. They can only tackle the surface level stuff and whatever Danny allows them to see -- if Danny ever lets them see it at all. For what do assassins do when they don't want to be caught? They hide. Sometimes in plain sight.

"But Jazz--" Jazz is a child. She is 2 years older than Danyal and no better at giving him a proper support system than the two adult Fenton parents, even with parentification. We don't know when she got into psychology or how long she'd been studying it by the time Danny's 14. We just know she's really into it. Even then, Jazz is not a licensed or reliable therapist, or even an experienced or implied good therapist, and should not be used as one either. It's a disservice to her character to reduce her down to 'supporting female emotional crutch'. Besides, therapy only works on people who want to get better. Danny, who'd be hiding who he really is, has very little incentive to want to, or to even think something is wrong with his way of thinking, even with exposure to the outside world.

When people's beliefs are outright challenged, they tend to double down on them, and Jazz canonically has a habit of psychoanalyzing her family and declaring what she thinks is the problem -- regardless of whether or not she's right about it. Jazz would get into psychology, try and psychoanalyze Danny, and all it would do is cause him to clam up, shut into himself further, and throw up even more walls so that she can't figure out that he has been lying this whole time. It would do more harm than good, and would actively hinder any progress he'd make in trying to open up to them. Roads and good intentions and all that.

That being said, I think Danny's development and dismantling of the League's teachings would be slower than Damian's. Much slower. Because he would be the one having to pick apart everything and figure out what is right, what is wrong, what he wants to keep, and what he wants to toss. Everything he unlearns would be stuff he has to unlearn himself. If he even gets to that point at all -- depending on his experiences, he very well could not change at all, or change very little. The League acts as a purge for humanity, meant to reign in their hubris and retain balance, they just also happen to be assassins for hire. Danny's time spent in Amity Park could as well strengthen his belief in their teachings just as much as it could weaken it, especially if it goes as canon and he gets bullied.

Regardless, being tossed to a civilian family as someone who is very much not a civilian, without any support, would be actively detrimental to Danny's overall mental health and development. Especially to strangers like the Fentons. Damian was closed off and standoffish even with blood family, and it took him time to open up to them -- Danny, with the Fentons, would be even more so. He doesn't know them, he doesn't trust them, he has no rhyme or reason to open up to them, and since the Fentons don't actually know him, they can't help him the way he needs. Once "Danny Fenton" is made, he has even less reason to open up. So long as Danyal allows it, they will only ever know Danny, and they'll never know Danyal.

TL:DR the Fentons aren't the better family option just because they're civilians, and actually that makes them the worser option between the two because they can't give Danny the proper support he needs. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.

[jade-len]

i think it'd be funny if someone transmigrated as xin mo. the goddamn evil sword. instead of taking it seriously, they just really fucked around with bingge. and, somehow, ended up having the opposite effect of what it's supposedly rumored to do.

picture this: bingge, on the quest for revenge and power, comes across the almighty xin mo. this demonic sword killed everyone that dared to even try wielding it. and, the few who were lucky enough to have it by their side, eventually succumbed to the swords' will.

it is said that the sword is unlike any other, that it etches into your head and eats away your brain, until eventually it consumes you whole. it whispers, speaking in lust, greed, and hatred. it slowly beckons the wielder into giving in to the worst part of themselves and feeds off of pure sin. but to him, it is no matter; luo bingge will surely tame it.

and then he gets to the sword.

demonic qi practically oozes from xin mo. the aura surrounding it makes every part of luo bingge scream, "run; get away, away from that monster." his gut prods at him, begging bingge that this is probably a really bad idea. it's a little terrifying, how even luo bingge, the determined, vengeful demon, is now getting second thoughts about wielding xin mo from just being in its presence alone.

but luo bingge is too, a monster. so he ignores the screams of plea; pushing every thought of doubt in the back of his head, and tightly grips onto the handle. the world around him seems to spin and shake, tumble and crack, from the amount of force bingge needs to use in order to pull the sword of sin out of its place.

when bingge finally has it perfectly fit into the palms of his calloused hands, he hears whispering. he knows that the sword has accepted him as its new host.

the sword's language crawls up to him, as if it were feeling around his body and mind. checking every nook and cranny for it to settle into bingge's form, truly becoming one with the embodiment of sin. the words flow through his brain like a tragically broken guqin, a melody that holds him in a frighteningly familiar trance - all while simultaneously eating away at his brain in the worst ways possible, akin to a child and their favorite snack. it seems to beckon something, but even with luo bingge's impressive hearing, he cannot make out any words from the tone-deaf musical notes xin mo sings.

and then, it is clear. the land around him settles, and everything is still. xin mo itself seems to be.. content. at least, that is what luo bingge believes.

the language of this wretched sword reflects the state around these two monsters.

luo bingge expects it to demand for bloodshed, for the erotic ecstasy of multiple women, for bingge to steal the last of the finest gems of these horrible, vast lands.

instead, he hears this:

"yoooo damn that shit was crazy. did you see what i did there? man, you know, it feels so fucking good to get out of the dirt. hey, do you know if people can like, feed their swords or something? i'm kinda craving something spicy. we never know, in this wack world! wait, don't hold me like that, buddy. it'll make things real awkward."

but luo bingge is determined to get his revenge, so he puts up with the swords' constant rambling about.. whatever the hell it's thinking.

"wait, dude, did you seriously fuck a dying girl? that's wild. yeah, like i know she was dying but it doesn't sound like you wanted it. yo, listen to me, consent is very sexy."

"HAHA hey, dude, sir, man. you wanna play some 'i spy'? we don't have anything else to do. no? too bad, we're playing it. i spy a loser who doesn't wanna play i spy. hint: he's holding me right now."

"okay i know i'm supposed to be this super evil sword and beg to be used - woah that sounded real wrong - but can you at least clean me when you're done killing shit? if you don't, i'm gonna refuse to respond to you and you'll look like a dumbass trying to wield me."

"i can't hear you lalalalalalala you're not being very it girl right now lallalalaalalalla-"

somehow, this is worse than if xin mo was actually eating away at his brain.

weirdly enough though, as luo bingge starts spending more time with this weird ass, seemingly possessed sword, it starts to become more of a.. comfort to have it by his side than pure annoyance. he finds himself responding to it more, like, actually having full on conversations with it. it puts him at ease, wielding xin mo. the hatred doesn't consume him, instead, it seems to soothe the burning rage (and, admittedly, just replace it with small irritation) that holds onto his darkened heart.

xin mo is actually quite kind and caring, for a sword that's supposed represent and be the literal embodiment of sin. sure, it is a hassle to have it cooperate with him sometimes, and it does just ramble on and on about the most random things ever, not giving a single shit if bingge was in the middle of sleeping with maidens and slaying those who get in his way. for the first time, bingge feels so comfortable around something.

it's.. odd. what was supposed to be the turning point in his life, a big step in his plan for revenge, is now something akin to an... acquaintance. not like mobei-jun, or any of the women he's come across, but an actual, dare he say, friend.

sometimes, he finds himself thinking all of this delusional. is this what people were driven mad by? perhaps they simply could not handle dealing with a talking sword. he understands that xin mo was undoubtedly unbearable to be around at the beginning of their alliance, but it has never actually beckoned for blood, power, and sex. if anything, it does the opposite.

maybe he's the delusional one. maybe this is xin mo's way of getting to him.

maybe, xin mo should be considered a thing. the thought feels terribly laughable, as if he were witnessing a person horribly explain themselves. it also makes his teeth grind together in pure agitation.

"hey, you know, you didn't deserve any of the things they did. it wasn't your fault, binghe. the fact that you're half heavenly demon doesn't make you a monster, or any of that wild stuff.. uh, i'm here for you, okay? i know you don't really like talking about all of this or opening up, but i just want you to know that you can.. talk about it. it's not like i can tell anyone else, anyways.

hey- shit i didn't mean to make you cry! wait, wait it's okay to cry! you need to let it out anyways, i promise it doesn't make you weak. there, there. i don't have any hands, so me patting you on the head with my handle will have to do. there, there.. everything will be alright, you'll be okay. i'll be here every step of the way, even if you want to get rid of me."

xin mo, the demonic sword, is more of a person - a good person - than anyone he'd ever come across.

...and then bingge and the xin mo transmigrator become besties or he falls for the damn sword. knowing him, he probably doesn't even know the difference between platonic and romantic attraction anyways. maybe bingge gets a plant body for xin mo using airplane's wack writing. idk i typed all of this down in one sitting.

(plot twist: it's not that the transmigrator xin mo had the opposite effect, it was literally just a placebo effect. luo bingge thought that, and thus it actually did help him lmao)

[deathbyfiction]

IM FUCKING CRYING SOMEONE PLEASE SAVE THIS BOY FROM HIMSELF

[ohtori-dropout]

If you saw this 5 seconds ago when it had a cropping issue no you didn’t

[dipplinduo]

Nothing left to lose & everything to prove.