#toxic coping

[mereallycan]

roman empire at the moment has to be the whole underdog-we-made-the-wrong-person-famous-humble-them-accesability-getting-an-ick-as-soon-as-its-mainstream-popular-I-own-and-control-entitled-and so on etc etc -thing

[pain-is-my-game]

Parents really do traumatize you and then force you to reparent yourself instead of being a capable human being who can contribute to society like a normal person. Sorry I can't get a well paying job right now I'm trying to learn coping mechanisms.

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

Smthn about escapism and why someone (me) might choose to stay with Kinito even tho he was a bit mean and also didn’t like that u had freewill lol

Also a little bit of thinking abt how Kinito and the Player Who Stays (the Stayer???) share a lot of parallels (working hard to deserve nice things, crippling loneliness, selfish reasons for clinging to one another, self awareness, dissatisfaction/disappointment with their respective realities leading to them idealizing the concept of each other, etc etc)

(The song lyrics are from ‘Woof woof’ by ARTHUR. It took a few listens to rlly appreciate it, now it scratches my brain in v nice ways)

[marku567]

["what if you could go somewhere safe"

"nowhere is safe if it's with you"]

[coffeenonsense]

sure toxic vampires aren't gonna help the situation but honestly what would

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Words Collide

[First] Prev <--> Next

[crows-of-buckets]

Rook: I'm really worried about Davrin and Lucanis, they keep arguing with one another... Its very bad Varric, what if it effects them in battle?

Varric, remembering that one time Fenris broke Ander's nose then took a knife in the back for him in the same night: I'm sure they'll be fine kid. They're barely even arguing if you ask me

[ithemissawesome]

they’re… trying to recover

(inspired by glitch production’s 10M subscribers post)

[furiousgoldfish]

When you're a kid going trough a scary, non-understandable traumatic experience, your child mind contextualizes it in a way that doesn't seem that scary. Like we don't tell small children when their relatives are dead, they're just traveling; it's easier for a child's mind to comprehend that someone is just gone for a while, and will be back.

When you're a small child living in abuse, not only does it seem normal to you, but your brain will find a way to put it into context that you can understand and live with. Your worst experiences of abuse might be foggy, forgotten, blocked off, or seem like it was a dream; not something you need to worry about or be wary of. Your parent, who violently attacks you, calls you names, turns on you and at times feels very dangerous and hateful, that's not their real self! They just 'turn' into this other person, and the times when they do that just need to be not taken seriously, you firmly believe that their true self is safe, okay to be around, necessary to love and understand at all costs, and not someone to be afraid of. You might want to keep all the bad memories away whenever things are good, so you'd be able to enjoy the moment when it feels normal, non-scary, so whenever they're not aggressive and scary, it feels like they never were in the first place. You feel like those times are made up, unreal, something your mind refuses to linger on.

Sometimes this defense turns against you. It can turn an experience out of your control, into something you could have potentially controlled if only you did things differently. If you never made a mistake, never broke anything, never said or did that one thing that set the abuse off - it wouldn't have happened. And so you have to focus on what you're doing wrong in order to 'prevent' future events of abuse. It ultimately plays into the idea that the abuse is 'your fault', and invokes deep feelings of guilt and shame; you end up feeling like you're the one causing yourself all that damage.

Abusers know this child mind defense, and fully expect to get away with anything they've done, by insisting the child imagined or dreamed it, and it didn't really happen. They know the event was traumatic for the child and makes them look bad, so their best luck is to convince the child it really was just made up, and to never recall it or show any consequence of it. They even go as far as trying to convince, now adult child, that the parent's own actions of abuse, were the child's fault. Something an adult can tell right away is not true, because you can now connect a cause and consequence, and you know a child is incapable of controlling adults in any way. But being told something as despicable as that will cast doubt and deep emotional damage.

Every time such experience is suspended and blocked off, the child loses a bit of their vitality, energy, health, trust, feeling of safety, feeling of connection. When these experiences accumulate, eventually the child might experience dissociation, or a full amnesia, not even being aware that anything more is happening, because they cannot handle even one more event of abuse. And these experiences won't stay suspended forever; soon they'll cause the development of anxiety, depression, ptsd, cptsd, and other related disorders. And eventually the truths can no longer stay hidden, the child will remember and struggle to add new context, to realize what exactly happen, because now they have a chance of knowing the truth and surviving it.

If someone attempts to make you feel like something they did to you as a child, was your fault, this is what they're trying to push you into. They'd prefer you never being able to put your life and experiences into context, never be able to recover from keeping trauma inside, just so they wouldn't have to look at what they've done to you and take accountability. If someone is telling you that the events you remember are made up, imagined, a dream, something you shouldn't think and talk about - but it's only like that when you're remembering abuse, they're trying to use your own defenses you had as a child against you. You needed to believe it back then in order to survive it, but you need to correctly contextualize it now, if you ever hope to feel okay again.

You can trust in your own mind, and your own defenses to get you trough this. You are not wrong in looking back and seeing things a different way. You are right say 'that was fucked up'. They shouldn't have done that to me and they know that.

[nothing0fnothing]

The number of times I've caught myself in the middle of telling myself how worthless, unlovable, dislikable and embarrassing I am is too many. It's almost every day.

And sometimes I correct myself and say "I am not unlovable" "I am allowed to make mistakes" "I have grown and changed since then."

Sometimes, I just wallow in the shame.

[thepeacefulgarden]

Promises you must make to yourself (and keep) when it's time to detach with love

I will stop trying to control anyone but myself.

I will set boundaries with this person, and I will not rescind those boundaries.

I will make those boundaries clear.

I will not give in to temper tantrums, threats, tears, bargaining, guilt trips, or other manipulative tactics. Instead, I will walk away.

I will stop doing things for them that they are capable of doing for themselves, and should be doing for themselves.

I will stop "loaning" them money I know I'm never going to get back.

I will let them be responsible for their own lives, and their own choices, and I will take responsibility for mine.

If it's necessary, I will remove myself and any children and/or pets from the household, and I will get us to safety.

I will prioritize my safety and well-being, and the safety and well-being of any children or pets.

I will not cover and lie for this person anymore.

I will no longer defend or make excuses for their unacceptable behavior.

I will prioritize my needs over their wants.

I will know that I am doing this because I love them and care about them, and I will absolve myself of guilt.

I will cultivate a support system of my own.

I will absolve myself of responsibility for their happiness, their life choices, their behavior, their words, and their responsibilities.

I will regulate my emotions when they try to dysregulate me. I will not lose my cool, no matter how much they agitate me.

If I cannot deescalate them, I will walk away.

I will absolve myself of responsibility for their feelings. I will let them be mad. Or sad. Or whatever else.

I will not bail them out of legal trouble.

I will not bail them out of any other kind of trouble or crisis.

I will no longer give this person second, third, fourth, fifth, hundredth chances they don't deserve.

I will accept that the situation is what it is, and I will stop trying to minimize or deny how bad it is.

I will accept that I cannot change or control them, and I will stop trying to do so.

I will find a sense of meaning, identity, and purpose outside of my relationship with them, or feeling "needed" or "wanted" by them, or anyone else.

I will let them face the consequences of their behavior, and I will absolve myself of responsibility for those consequences.

I will know and understand that I have done my best, and I cannot help someone who won't help themselves.

I will know that, no matter how much they may protest otherwise, I am not being selfish.

[wormboyfriendcentralstation]

i love the contrast between ishmael and heathcliff's revenge plots because ishmael was willing to steer a boat into a whale of skyscraper proportions to tear that old lady limb from limb with her bare hands, whereas heathcliff was trying really hard to increase his credit score. ishmael is here not speaking of hubris. striking the sun if it insulted her. she is madness maddened. she is that wild madness only calm to comprehend herself. in the meantime, heathcliff has trodden on the bathtub mixed timeline moonshine landmine that cathy made in her basement

[opia-jpg]

she's like if internalised homophobia was a girl

[leafuxxtea]

Notice my pain

And mend me right now

To quiet my fears

I’ll drown in you

[hom3landr]

Little Miss Why So

18+

Homelander X GN!Reader

(While the song title referenced is gendered, the reader in the fic is written as gender neutral)

Very loosely inspired by the song of the same name by The Amazing Devil

“Why won’t you believe I love you if I’m not hurting you?” He says.

Written for Cozy Corner Kinktober 2024 for the prompts Crying, Biting, and possibly Magical Healing Cock?

CW: Dubcon, Toxic Coping Mechanisms, Toxic Relationship Dynamics

When he finds you, you’re sobbing. Fat tears stream down your face and drop onto the pavement below. Your eyes are swollen and sticky with sorrow and the force with which you wail stirs up bile in your gut. Rain drenches you and the cloying stench of rot from the wet trash in the alley mimics the disgust you feel for yourself in that moment.

This isn’t about him but you know he’ll take it that way. He seems to take any emotion that isn’t pure adoration of him as some personal slight, as though he’s not good enough to keep you distracted from your pathetic life and its struggles. He sees it as a competition between your world and his. You see it as your reality. You’d wanted to find a quiet place to lick your wounds alone. That’s why you escaped to this filthy alley in the first place. But he found you anyway, vulnerable and ill-prepared to handle his ego.

He doesn’t say anything. He just stands in the alleyway entrance with his hands on his hips and a cock of his head. His face is blank as he looks you over, his lip curling slightly in distaste. You know you look a mess with your nose leaking snot and your cheeks hot and swollen. You don’t say anything. You don’t have the energy. You just sniffle and wait for the inevitable blast wave.

He stays silent, the only noise is the soft patter of rain and the squelch of his boots on the wet ground as he walks toward you. He crowds you against the brick and grips your hips to spin you to face the wall. You brace yourself with your hands and he pushes in close behind you. The soft bulge of his cup hides his erection but you can tell by the eagerness with which he presses against you that he's hard. You rest your head on the wall and sigh. You don’t have the energy to reciprocate but it doesn’t seem like he expects you too.

“You look so good like this,” He purrs in your ear. It surprises you. You know you look like shit. “So pure and perfect.”

He grinds against your ass and peppers your neck with greedy kisses. His hands quickly fumble with the button of your jeans and he slides the zipper down with a hiss. His hand dives into your underwear, testing your readiness. You aren’t at all really but it doesn’t seem to deter him too much. He strokes you exactly the way he knows that you like and your body responds accordingly. You arch into his touch even though your crying hasn’t ceased. He hushes you softly.

You hear the hiss of his own zipper and he uses his knee to coax your legs further apart as he tugs your jeans down past your ass. You offer no resistance. He spits on his palm for some lubrication and strokes himself before pressing in. He goes slow but it still stings a bit without the usual extended preparation. You hiccup and whimper at the stretch but despite all his flaws, you trust him not to cause you any damage. He’s careful and strangely you find that you don’t mind the pain. It’s cathartic.

“Just let it out. That’s it. You’re doing so good.” He coos in your ear as he bottoms out. You grunt, uncomfortably full but satisfied by the distraction from your own thoughts. He doesn’t move except to resume stroking you, humming in pleasure at the way you clench tightly around him.

“I want you to cry for me until you can’t anymore. Don’t fucking stop.” He growls. You nod weakly as you allow the tears to fall freely without shame. There’s nowhere for you to hide with the way you’re pinned between the wall and his hard cock.

The first thrust hurts. You haven’t fully relaxed around him yet although you’re slick enough to take him by now. He grunts, rubbing you faster while his other hand reaches up to grab your jaw, turning your gaze to meet his. He searches your eyes for something and he seems to find it. The cold appraisal in his expression warms slightly as he leans down to lick the salt from your cheeks.

“Give it to me. Don’t hide it.” He moans against your skin as he begins to increase the speed of his thrusts. Your discomfort is quickly evolving into pleasure now at the intensity of the sensations he’s filling you with. You moan and his grips tightens bruisingly, purple inevitably beginning to bloom under his fingers. You cry out and he throbs inside you.

“This belongs to me.” He growls and his pace is brutal as he uses you.

You’re beginning to understand his fervor now. You begin to understand why he feels so entitled to your pain. How many times have you seen him at his weakest? How many times have you held him while he cried and comforted him as his shoulders shook with sorrow and self-pity? He doesn’t like uneven scales. He’s gloating, gleeful that he’s not the only weak one in the relationship.

It’s fucked up…but that’s him. How can you begrudge him when this is all he’s ever known? After all, it is helping. The overwhelm of sensation is the only thing that could have pulled you out of that headspace. You need this wake-up call as a reboot of your brain. Your mournful cries have evolved into needy moans and your hips press eagerly back into his. A kinder response wouldn’t have reached the root of your hurt. Like lancing a boil, you need him to drain the poison out of you.

He continues to whisper sweet nothings in your ear despite the way he’s fucking you as though he doesn’t give a damn whether you live or die. It’s cold and emotionless, using you as merely a sleeve for his cock. But his breath against your ear is warm and he nuzzles sweetly against your temple. You try to speak but the wind is knocked out of you every time his cock pounds against that soft spot inside you.

“I don’t want to hear anything come out of your mouth unless it’s your pathetic sobbing. That’s what you came all this way for, so fucking do it.” He pants breathlessly against your ear as he nears his release.

You do, although the tears that prick at your eyes are those of pleasure now. You’re loose and quivering around him and every nerve ending tingles with electricity. Your nail tears as you claw at the brick to brace yourself for the edge he’s quickly driving you towards.

You cry out his name and he bites your shoulder harshly, the bloody reprimand staining his teeth.

“What did I just fucking say?” He hisses before lapping hungrily at the wound and groaning darkly at the iron tang that fills his mouth. He can taste the endorphins in it and it drives him crazy.

The sudden sharp pain hurls you into a world ending orgasm and your legs give out. You almost collapse until he presses you bodily against his wall. His pace shifts into a deep filthy grind right into your spasming hole as he holds you up with his body. You wail and clench around him and it doesn’t take much longer at all until he’s spilling into you, his release leaking out of you and dripping down his balls onto the slick pavement below. He moans and whines in your ear, his demeanor shifting from cruel to needy in the span of a heartbeat.

You struggle to catch your breath, agony and delight filling your veins in equal measure. It’s perfect. It’s just what you needed. He’s just what you needed, every cruel beautiful inch of him. You don’t merely endure him. You need the sharp edges of him to keep you grounded. You need that pain.

His arms wrap around you. He peppers your sore shoulder with sweet kisses as a silent apology. You’ll need to bandage it up when you return but you aren’t going to worry about it right now. You’re content in his embrace. The two of you wait there in silence as the silver rain continues to fall all around you, causing the dirty alley to glint prettily in the moonlight. Your chest still aches but you can survive it.

“Let’s get you back home. I’ll run you a bath and have the kitchen bring you up your favorite. How does that sound?” His tone is so kind and warm, a far cry from his earlier demeanor. You still aren’t quite capable of speech but you nod.

“There you are.” He coos, and as he scoops you up into his arms and off into the sky, you slip away into a comfortable doze.

You know it’s not healthy but it’s all you have. It’s all he can give you. If it gets you results then you can learn to be content with that. So you lean into him and let the rain wash away the remnants of what ails you.

[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