#bad coping skills

[feralboo-the-weirdo]

A therapist, probablly: *points out a thing I do*

Me: Oh this coping skill that isn't healthy in any way? Yeah I got that from my dad.

Therapist: *points to a different one*

Me: Oh that one was from having to repress all my feelings so I could survive the whole day as a kid. Not sure when that one started. The one over here is from trying to test to see if my family would notice if I just dropped my normal routine and they uh, didn't. This one is my sisters, that one isn't a coping skill but eh, it's whatever. This one is a skill I picked up to just erase any of my feelings or thoughts from the conversation, this one is new, that one is pretty old, probably from the seeing if my parents would care if I "hurt" myself and, uh, yeah, still no. This one's from my mom, and this one-- ohh this one--

Therapist:

Therapist: Are you like, okay?

Me: not at all. Oop that's not okay to say in public, my bad. I got social skills in the form of table scraps.

[brucewaynehater101]

My favorite hc for Tim is that his stress relief is fucking over other villains. He makes his bad days their problem.

Are the city officials being needlessly tedious in Neon Knights programs? Luthor suddenly has IRS knocking on his door for improper tax filing.

Did one of his siblings postpone plans? Deathstroke starts to have difficulty finding contracts.

Does he get an injury that prevents him from patrolling for a few weeks? Ra's doesn't need so many Lazarus Pits.

He's petty and takes his anger out on villains without warning. Could he do any of these actions before he gets annoyed with life? Yes. Does he purposefully wait until he wants to snap? Also yes.

[swiftfootedachilles]

mickey fans who think ian is bad/toxic/"worse" than mickey (or any other character for that matter) is so funny because like. how do you think mickey would react to you saying that. the whole appeal of mickey is that hes a flea-invested rabid dog that keeps crawling back to ian no matter how bad it is for both of them. thats the whole point of their dynamic. they treat each other like shit, run away to lick their wounds, then mickey drags himself back to lay at ians feet, and ian takes him back every single time because he knows nobody is ever gonna care for him like mickey does. mickey blatantly states in the show that he would extend his prison sentence if it meant staying with ian. if he can obsess over ian unconditionally then so can anyone else idk

[sunsbleeding]

Thanks you to all of you who have been so kind lately, I know we don’t know each other personally but I feel like I have a lil family and I’m not alone in being treated like shit by someone who pretended to love you ❤️‍🩹 big hugs to all of you, and also all you going through a depressive episode, a dark time, or struggling with substance abuse of any sort, I see you, I understand, and there will be people you find in this life that will see you too

[cinnamonsikwate]

"why couldn't shuro have just been honest about what he felt with laios and falin it's not that hard" are you. are you White

[hatterladz]

So let's talk Cuphead's kills

I CAN'T DO IT ANYMORE I NEED TO YAP!!! REREAD BE DAMNED I NEED TO SPEAK!!!!

Alrighty so spoilers for Inky Mystery, buckle up this is going to be a long one

Okay so I was going to my fav chapters and doing some rereads

And I'm going rabid about Chapter 177: A Broken Cup and it made me also realize some things with Chapter 334: Can't Sleep a Wink

Now to start off with 334 always bugged me, it felt so out of nowhere. I mean, Cup is sleeping around with girls, being Bendy's wingman and before that doing Fanny favors? Sure there was the gangs but it felt sudden that Cup just killed Wink not only that but that murder was much more emotionally involved then his other jobs. Why?

At first I could believe it's his overprotective streak, but now I think it might be something else, because I reread Chapter 177, where he's getting taunted by the Night Terror. And when I read him being taunted I took it all as lies but during my reread...

How much of Wink's death was really the B-Bros protection? How much of it was for Wilson? Was it really that? Or was it something else?

Much earlier in the story it's mentioned Cuphead laughed at hurting and killing people. But we know he didn't enjoy it, it haunts him. His guilt and regret is mentioned frequently. He even remembers all of his victims.

So why? Why is there so much emphasis in the Labrynth that Cuphead is not just a killer but a killer who likes his job? When he has this much guilt and regret? When he remembers all of their screams and deaths?

Because it's how he copes. He was raised as a killer, it's what he's good at and he also knows that, when it comes to the underworld, an easy solution.

The events surrounding this chapter was more then just Cuphead going through a playboy era with his friend Bendy. The house stresses him out, he can't go there now after the events that happened with Holly. So he went to the Candy Shop, except then Fanny hurt and betrayed him. He doesn't have anywhere to go so he's coping in the worst ways possible.

Violence and women. Now this isn't my post where I talk about how using sex is a coping mechanism is a horrible idea, so I'll move on from that. But let's look at that quote again "I've need something to hit for awhile".

He's doing it as a stress relief. He can't figure things out with Fanny, he can't help his friend with his guilt and fears of killing angels, he can't do anything about the deal with Marcus, the ink machine, the fact he's trapped as the "Devil's Dog".

But he can kill Winky. Winky has his goons all over the house. Winky killed Wilson which caused all his friends pain, Winky tried to attack his friends, Winky has answers to his questions, Winky is a problem. So he takes it out on Winky. He wasn't ever intending of letting Winky go easy, and he especially wasn't planning it after his suspicions were true. Why would he mention he works for the Devil otherwise?

Why did he leave Mugman home? Because Mugs would stop him. He didn't want to be stopped. It's why he doesn't tell anyone about it or Darius after. Sure Darius is a target, and I'm sure information was also a target. But that wasn't the only reason.

But he doesn't want to admit how easy it is for him to kill, the relief it gives. And how guilty he feels afterwards.

Because he doesn't even want to address it's his fault. He did what he had to. He doesn't want to believe what sort of person he is, he doesn't want to remember all the things he's done. He tries to forget. It's not his fault, he was protecting his brother. He was told to by the Devil. He did what he had to. Didn't want to acknowledge the times he had fun tormenting people, to acknowledge how good he is at being a monster [since deep down, that's how he sees himself], and he especially didn't want to acknowledge he killed when he didn't have to. That he took the "easy" way to do things.

He did what he had to. That's what he needs to believe.

[randommothsvents]

🚫Pov:🚫

My subconscious trying to decide what (unhealthy) coping mechanism to do tonight

[haloberry]

Modern Au of the eggies being all patients with the same terminal illness.

The players are all parents/ part of a guardian program to make sure all the kids have the best life they can.

The federation are researcher of the illness and also funding the hospital all the kids go to.

[mueritos]

its my bday today so heres a new meet the artist :3

[eldritchdemonfox]

Watch as I get attacked for this

To me, the batarang incident in UTRH (comic) HAD to have been accidental. Because Bruce trying to kill Jason just…doesn’t seem right, especially in regards to how he treats the other people in his life who have killed and/or come back to life, for example Kate Kane, Damian, etc.

It might just be me (and our Jason Todd alter) trying to make it make sense. But there’s a very big part of me that wants me to believe that something went horribly wrong during that moment. Perhaps he was aiming for his shoulder or arm, make him drop the gun. Maybe the joker threw Jason off balance.

I hope so

[lousydrawingsforgoodpeople]

[heroesriseandfall]

Oh yeah sure Bruce made a glass case with his dead son’s clothing in it and that was weird and all. But what about when his next son copied him and made FOUR glass cases, one for each person he was trying to resurrect and/or clone? That. that was weird.

Teen Titans (2003) #43

Teen Titans (2003) #44

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 37

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: mentions of violence, suggestive themes

Connections

Kid had been ready to rip into you for doing something so stupid. What you did was reckless and brave and if it weren't for that stunt, he was certain that they would have taken a lot more damage. If it were anyone else, even if it were you several weeks ago, he wouldn't care. He hated that he cared. Kid hated watching you toss and turn. It reminded him of his own weaknesses and his own struggles with traumatic events in his life. He couldn't do anything to fight a foe without a form. A physical thing he could punch was so much easier. When he found out that Wire and Killer ignored your cautions, he was even more pissed. It took him a while to come around to the fact that you were a skilled captain, yet it was plain to see. They should have trusted you. Luckily for them all, you were prepared. 

It did make him grin to think that you put enough trust in him to catch you before you fell into the ocean or crashed onto the deck. He didn't like that you did it in the first place, but it was something that gave him a warm feeling on the inside. Any time he dwelled on it for too long, he got anxious. He swore that he would never keep someone he liked on the ship. Neither him nor Killer could go through another Victoria situation, and if something developed further between you and either of them, it would be a very real possibility. He knew that you could handle yourself. Still, he worried. What if there came a time you couldn't? What then? He instinctively wanted to protect you, but knew that he would be putting himself at risk if he was distracted by wondering where you were on the battlefield or if you were okay. Not to mention you would probably be pissed at him if he did and take it as an insult.

Selfishly, and against his better judgement, he wanted you to stay. It was nice to have someone like you on the ship. You were strong above all else, but you were also funny, fucked up, and a little kinky. Maybe your looks were an acquired taste for some, to him though, you were hot. He wouldn't lie, it was a huge plus to have a woman warming his bed who wasn't a whore, and not just when they were docked. Killer didn't cut it in that department, no matter what kind of panties Kid made him wear, and the girls on the ship didn't find him attractive in that way. Best of all, and some probably wouldn't be so positive towards it, you spread the love. He was certainly in a better mood when you fucked him. Killer was, too. For the rest of the day after your little dalliance with the four of them, Heat was grinning ear to ear with a pink dusting to his cheeks. Kid knew Heat really had kept your wanted poster in his room, not under his pillow as you surmised. In reality, it was worse. It was your face that Heat had done a bit of arts and crafts with and pasted onto the body of some naked lady from a magazine. Kid made a mental note to find it and show you sometime. They had bullied him relentlessly for it. And dare he say, even Wire was in a better mood since then, whistling in the hallway. It was such a simple thing, for a woman's touch to bring such comfort, and Kid was grateful for it if it meant his officers, his friends, felt some form of happiness. Jerking off was one thing, but having something soft to hold and talk to was entirely different. Killer said it had something to do with 'mommy issues' but Kid refused to listen to this theory. 

It pained Kid when you screamed at the lot of them. Knowing you weren't in your right mind didn't help much. The pain in your eyes and in your voice was so vivid, he felt like he was the one that perpetrated some vile thing against you. He was sure he physically recoiled. Killer was somewhat more accustomed to it, having dealt with Kid's own nightmares and triggers. They had assumed that you went through some kind of trauma at the hands of marines. Contrary to what you thought, both of them had noticed the multitudes of scars that covered the inside of your thighs, your chest, your ass. It was clear that some of them weren't made from weapons. Some were bite marks or cigarette burns. 

Kid was uncomfortable. He didn't know how to console you. He stood awkwardly in front of you while Killer had his arm around you. Maybe he should pat your head? Say something encouraging? He ended up sighing and leaving this to Killer. Frustrated that he was useless for situations like these, he went to his workshop, which only made him feel worse, staring at where the giant hole used to be. Did he really annoy you that much? That you finally gave in and repaired the wall? 

Killer was wracked with guilt for not listening to you. He could tell you were trying to be good by not arguing with him and that you were slighted that neither he nor Wire trusted your instincts. If he had only listened, you wouldn't be in this state right now. The tears had finally stopped. The sleeve of his shirt thoroughly soaked with them. You pressed into his side, like you wanted to meld into him and disappear. He felt you take deep breaths to calm yourself. 

"Do you want to take a bath?" Killer prompted. "It might make you feel better." 

"Shower's fine." Your voice came out gravelly. You agreed that the warm water would make you feel better. If you hadn't just woken up, a good hard cry was usually followed by a good hard nap.

When you were done, Killer was in his room with a bowl of soup waiting for you. The warmth soothed your throat as you ate. 

"I apologize for not listening to you," he said.

You studied him briefly, deciding what to say. It didn't matter what you said. What's done is done. You weren't an officer on this ship, so you shouldn't have expected to be treated like one. "Apology accepted."

"If it makes you feel better, Kid yelled at us."

That piqued your curiosity. "Did he now?" A weak smile graced your lips. "That does make me feel better."

"Don't be a wise-ass. He's gonna yell at you, too."

"For what?!"

"For doing something batshit insane!"

"What does he care?"

"He cares," Killer lowered his voice, unsure if he should have said that. 

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you care?"

"Of course I care. I care about everyone on this ship."

You hummed. "I think I'm through being a crybaby for today. The pity party is over."

"It's okay to cry you know. You can take your time getting back to work." 

"I'm fine, Killer. Thanks though." You weren't going to argue with him. It wasn't okay to cry, not in your book. You were already ashamed that they saw you in that state. Full-on sobbing and having a semi-mental breakdown in front of Kid and Killer was inexcusable to you. How were they supposed to see you as strong and a worthy member of the Kid Pirates if you did shit like that?

You went to the infirmary, figuring you would have to tidy up, but also because you wanted to see Mini. Before you went in, you hesitated by the door to Kid's workshop, wondering if you should tell him you were back on service. Killer would probably let him know. There wasn't much to clean up, to your shock. Someone had probably cleaned it after taking care of the wounded. You did feel a bit guilty for being unavailable to do your actual assigned job. 

There was a knock at the door. You weren't expecting anyone, least of all, Wire. The tall man ducked through the doorway. Often, you wondered how you would look in his outfit. Mesh bralette, leather hot pants, fishnets. You could definitely get behind it. It was rare to see on a man, but he pulled it off. It would look better on you, in your opinion. He didn't say anything as he came up to you and you couldn't read him.

"Can I help you?" You said cautiously.

"We should have listened to you. I'm sorry."

"I don't know if Heat or Killer asked you to come here, but you don't have to apologize to me if you're just doing it to appease them." It was fine. You were over it.

He looked angry for a second. "No one asked me. I'm apologizing to you, so accept it or don't. I don't care." 

"Oh." That took you aback. "Accepted then."

He stood there uneasily, like there was something more he wanted. 

"Is there.... something else?" 

"I don't hate you." 

Your eyebrow went up.

"You think I hate you, but I don't. I was...am... distrustful of you."

"I think that's fair." You would be the same way, though you didn't presume he would tell you to your face.

A look of relief flashed over his face. He must have thought you would be mad or something, also fair, since you tend to react with fists. 

"How much more pussy do you need to trust me?"

His face went entirely red. "Wha-? I don't- That's not why I came here." 

"I'm teasing. Kind of..." You said the last bit under your breath. "Lighten up."

"Actually... I also wanted to say... um the other day... I don't think those things of you either." 

"The marine whore bit?" You smirked. "I know. You were playing your part well and I did literally ask for that." You continued, "You know I never fucked marines? Only pirates."

Wire was amused by the factoid. "Why?"

Shrugging, "Felt dangerous I guess?"

Wire nodded in understanding. "Now that you're a pirate, will you fuck marines?" He was fucking with you.

"So they can wow me with their prowess in missionary and ability to never make a woman cum? I'll pass."

Wire shook his head disapprovingly and ducked back out of the infirmary. 

No one else came to visit you. Out of boredom, you pressed your ear to the wall, trying to see what Kid was up to. You heard things banging around in there a while ago. The only thing you could make out was the extra loud cursing whenever he fucked up or hurt himself. That made you smirk. What a dumbass. Turning your attention to Mini, you flopped down by the boar. She grunted in agreement. She was bored too. 

"I need to practice more with my fruit." You scratched her head. "Wanna fight or something?" There was absolutely no way you were cleared medically to do that, but who was gonna tell you no? You were the doctor.

Now was the perfect time to spar. You were still full by the time dinner came around. While everyone was enjoying dinner, you and Minerva took up the sparring deck. For a warmup, you grabbed her tusks and tried to push her backwards. Your efforts didn't budge her and when she actually pushed, you were knocked flat on your back. Using your fruit to augment your muscles, you tried again. This time you could move her, but you were still knocked flat when she pushed back. There were some other things you wanted to try with your fruit, but you wanted to wait until you had more test subjects in case it whatever you did was irreversible. You stepped up your strength in small increments until you could match Minerva's full strength.  The issue was your body couldn't support that much extra musculature, reduced to exhaustion in only a few minutes, so you undid most of it. Instead, you picked up a spear and sparred with Minerva that way. That way, you could both build skills, remembering how to fight with a spear for you, and learning how to avoid a spear for her. Next time she encountered a spear, she would know how to avoid it. The session was over after you were both tired and locked in a stalemate. 

Sighing, you went to the main mast. It looked the same as it always had. Felt the same, too. If only you could access that same power whenever you wanted. Maybe the only limits on your power were mental. The rules for your power were kind of self-made, when you were trying to figure out what you could and couldn't do. But that didn't mean those were actually the rules. You were sick of rules. You followed enough as a marine. 

You made your way to the bow of the ship, to sit in the skull. Taking out your eye, you checked the log pose needles. They still pointed in the same direction. Giemsa's didn't move anymore. You found yourself checking less and less. There were still a handful days until you got out of Big Mom's territory. One more guard post. Though word would have gotten out now that they were sailing through these waters and that many of her crew had fallen to the sword of the Kid Pirates. It wouldn't be easy. 

"Not hungry?" Heat's voice came from next to you. 

"Nah."

"You okay?" 

You nodded.

"Mind if I join you here?"

"You're already doing it."

He sat down next to you. 

You scooted closer to him and leaned against his shoulder. If he was gonna be here, might as well keep you warm. "You're so hot." 

"Thanks. So are you." His mind short-circuited not expecting the sudden compliment. 

You pulled away and looked at him with your head cocked. "I meant like temperature hot."

A blush rose to his cheeks. "I knew that." 

"Heat, you dog." You decided that the cure to your boredom would be flustering Heat. "Are you trying to fuck me?" 

"I'm abstinent." 

"Yeah you really abstained the other day." You moved to face him, hands on his knees, leaning forward.

"It's a new thing." He was grinning. 

You acted like you were going to kiss him, giving him a peck on the cheek last second. "That's okay. I respect your choices. We can just be friends." You snickered when you heard the tiniest whine, returning to your spot next to him. Leaning against him again, you asked him, "We are friends, right?"

"Yeah?" He didn't know what you were getting at.

"I didn't know if the other day... if it messed things up. I like having you as a friend."

He put his hand on your knee. "Why would you think that? Friends fuck all the time. Well, maybe not all the time, but you get it." 

"I don't." You looked at him sheepishly. "I never really had friends. Or if I did once, they're probably dead." 

"So that would make me your first friend, and, by default, your best friend."

"Don't say that too loudly. Quincy will fight you on that." You laughed. "I guess it's true though. You were the first person that was nice to me."

Heat put his arm around your shoulders, keeping you nice and toasty in the crisp sea breeze. Doubtless, talking to him got you out of the weird mood you had been in. The two of you enjoyed the soft rocking of the ship, watching the reflection of the stars in the water until it was time to retreat back to your own cabins for the night. 

Next Chapter

[notreyev]

okay. what meds do you think they'll put nureyev on post-canon? i think for an antidepressant he's on welbutrin because SSRIs made him feel Void. and probably a mood stabilizer too

[shadeofazmeinya]

*talking to my queer self through gritted teeth* self-destruction isn’t revolutionary or progressive. self-destruction is letting them win. self-destruction isn’t revolutionary or progressive. self-destruction is letting them win. self-destruction isn’t-

[soup-is-here]

Mouthwashing Spoilers

TW: Addiction and Self Harm

I wanna go on about Swansea's final monologue but it's hard to put into words, but I'm gonna try anyways cause it's a short, but strong story about autonomy again. This post ended up significantly longer than I wanted though

It's the autonomy to choose the "less healthy" option because it's appealing to you. It's the moral assignment to normality and stability. An alcoholic is an alcoholic by choice, technically, but do they owe us otherwise? Is it morally reprehensible to enjoy taking LSD at a party? Should we see someone as less than because they relax with a xanax instead of a hot shower? It's not healthy. We know that. We've seen anti-drug ad after ad after ad. But is that the part that's morally wrong, in and of itself? Does enjoying the drugs and chaos make Swansea a worse person?

Like him talking about his entire life and ending it by saying between the "stable" "normal" life and him waking up every morning with a new hangover, he preferred the latter. People always talk about getting clean and fixing their lives and Swansea did it! He did the thing "good men" do! A wife and kids and a trade job and sobriety! He was doing it! He was finally "worth" something!

And he hated it! I mean I don't know if he actually hated/despised it, but he misses his previous life. He misses drugs and partying and living like you might not wake up the next day. He said the thing that changed him was seeing himself dead in a ditch under the bright beam of a streetlight. Now he's looking down the barrel of a gun. And as he looks down it, he looks back. That was his preference. It felt good to be like that. And he wouldn't be here if he stayed there

We always have a narrative about drugs or gambling or sleeping around where a person suddenly realizes that they aren't "doing anything" with their life and becomes stable and it's always played like addiction is a false pleasure. Swansea got to the stability people said would be the real pleasure of life and that just wasn't true for him. One bad paycheck could've been the difference between his stable life and falling apart anyways. His lifestyle was going to kill him someday apparently, yet he's staring down the barrel of a gun at his steady trade job to feed his wife and kids.

I don't know quite how to word it but Swansea is the poster child for rehabilitation. There's this weight to him saying his alcoholic period was the best time of his life. Like it just hits at that pang that makes people wear DARE shirts while smoking weed and post those videos of smoking 100 cigarettes at once. Anti-vaping ads tell you about the damage they do to your body but everyone knows that already. Everyone knows "this is what your brain looks like on drugs." I smoke medical marijuana and it isn't good for my lungs but it's good for my pain. Doing drugs isn't good for me and I know that and that's sorta the point sometimes.

I don't know it's just this weird pang where I know what Swansea means, just not to nearly the same extent. I don't have an addiction so I don't think I could fully understand it. Maybe a better thing I could relate it to for myself is self harm. It's not healthy sure, but who do I owe health? Myself? Other people? And what is healthy? Is it feeling better now? Is it resisting now and feeling worse for it until it stops? What if the coping skills I learn make it worse? What if they make it better? Do I want it to get better? Does Swansea want to get better? What would better feel like to either of us?

Who knows until you try. Swansea got a collared shirt, a mortgage, and a credit card. He got a job and a wife and kids. He got sober. He got healthier, depending on your definition.

But did he feel better? He's looking down a barrel of a gun and he has to decide if he feels better. It doesn't seem like he regrets his new life. He says he wants his kids to be better than him. He wants good things to happen for them. He saw himself as one bad slip away from falling again. I don't think he felt better though. I think he got healthier. He likely would've ended up in the ditch he dreamt about, but we don't know that. We also don't know if that's what he'd prefer. But, we do know he got healthier, depending on your definition.