things i like reading sometimes


something i don’t see a lot in tumblr’s rhetoric about mental illness and recovery is a distinction between recovery through suppression and conformity and recovery through coping.

suppression and conformity is not recovery.  it implies that you are simply repressing the symptoms of your mental illness or disorder and causing yourself more pain.  suppression implies that you are ignoring your mental illness, not acknowledging your symptoms, and conformity implies that you are putting on a neurotypical facade.  so many people assume that’s the end goal of therapy and medication (should people choose to do that) or general recovery. that people are trying to “cure” you.  it’s where i think a lot of the “i shouldn’t need to get better” rhetoric comes from.

but that’s not what recovery is.  recovery is coping.  it’s learning about yourself and how you tick.  it’s learning to recognize and acknowledge symptoms so you can better understand them and, ultimately, not let them control you.  it’s understanding that being “wired” differently isn’t a bad thing, but it can make things harder, and learning to recognize those distinctions and address them so you can make your life easier.  it’s recognizing that for some people, therapy and medication are the path to coping, and that the end goal of them is to make that learning and self-discovery process easier so that those people can do it independently in the long run.

recovery is not changing yourself to fit the world.  recovery is learning how to look the world in the eye and say “i now know how to coexist with you now.  i now know how to thrive.”



u ever talk abt mental stuff w someone thinking maybe they relate but they dont relate and then ur like haha well im never talking abt myself ever again


2 jades i drew in class

anonymous asked:

how do you decide what shows to watch? i like many of the same fandoms as you so you seemd good to ask ^^

Hmm, I’m pretty easy-going when it comes to watching new things. I’m easily entertained and I watch a lot of “mainstream” stuff, so it’s usually at least okay - I’ve watched very few things that I’ve outright disliked. 

Generally, I just kind of look to what my friends are watching or choose randomly! 

  • h//hx I started because one day, @ardathsade messaged me and was like “you gotta watch this show, there is a pervy bloodthirsty clown” and I was like “sold” and I said okay. She does this with a lot of shows (Psyc//ho-Pa//ss, Tok//yo Gh//oul, Att//ack on Tita//n). (Wow Katie you like pain shows….)
  • Haikyū I got into because I loved @silvercistern ‘s The Predatory Wasp so much that when I came back from hiatus last year and saw her writing for a new fandom, I hopped on that.
  • I started BNH//A because I saw lots of mangacaps of Deku on my dash and was like “wow he looks like a killugon love child”  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
  • M//P100 I started because I liked OPM and I saw this gif and thought that was some really cool animation. 
  • Y//OI was because I like ice skating and I was like “hell yeah, I’ll watch an ice skating anime” and then it helped that a lot of people I follow got really into it.

So basically…I just kind of wander around and bump into new things and am like “ok i’ll try that” or someone directs me to it specifically. Sorry I’m not very helpful! D: 


anonymous asked:

The thing is that it does not matter if Camila has a real relationship with a guy CS will say it's PR because apparently Camila and Lauren are obsessed with each other and cannot move on, Camila can talk about a potato in one of their songs and they will find a way to relate it to Lauren.

why is it exactly like that? the things i read sometimes

  • me: *sits at desk*
  • me: *twiddles thumbs*
  • me: who should I drag into gay hockey hell next?

The thing I find funny about Merlin reveal!fics is how Arthur takes it so personally about the years of lying and I’m over here internally laughing like “omg Arthur he’s lied to everyone and you’re only thinking of yourself wow”

I gave you parts of me that I never even gave myself.
—  r.s.

There’s a thing called tough love and then there’s child abuse.  This is the latter without a doubt.  From Judge, you know that this isn’t the first time that his brothers are bullying him for not being as strong as they are.  Judge doesn’t skip a beat giving it straight to Sanji that he views him as a failure.  He makes Sanji know that he’s useless to the goals of the family.  This really makes an impact on a child especially at such an impressible age.  His sister just laughs and the others come in for him.

You can see why Sanji completely rejects the Vinsmoke name that he was born into.  He’s viewed as a “stain” and a “disgrace”.  This is by the only family that he knows.  Despite being a quadruplet, he’s the “weakest” one and he’s punished for that. 

I think that from this experience as a child Sanji is so self-depreciating.  He puts everyone else before him and always takes one for the team.  Sanji’s kind.  Incredibly kind.  He’s probably one of the kindest people that you’ll meet in your life and we now know exactly why.  As a kid he’s already risking his life in the kitchens for those less fortunate than him.  This isn’t the first time he’s gotten beat up for the same reason and I think this is where he gets his sneaky nature.  You see it initially when he feeds Gin on the Baratie in the back and then chucks the dishes off the side of the restaurant.  He rarely ever wants for anyone to acknowledge his kindness because I think there’s some innate fear from when he was a child.

And I think it’s worth noting that Sanji’s been raised in a pretty fucked up manner.  Judge says, “I have no obligation to help you, and I see no worth in raising you either”.  It created this complex in Sanji at an early age that he needs to be useful to survive.  He has to do something for someone in order for them to just help him in the smallest way.  Zeff kind of throws all of this out the window and helps the precious child to heal.  If you remember back on the rock they were stranded on, Sanji talks about favors when he finds out that Zeff ate his foot just so Sanji wouldn’t starve.  He learns that love can be unconditional and the Vinsmoke in him breaks.  This is a man that he just met and without a second of doubt jumps into the ocean to save him.  And then starts his days with Zeff.

goldcaught  asked:

“Why exactly do you need chloroform at 2AM?” & “I’m going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else.“  both things caroline of the eccentric kajillionaire office building au would say, probably within the same visit JUST SAYING

higher than the empire state;

klaus/caroline. ensemble. 5079 words.



“Why exactly do you need chloroform at 2AM?” is not a question Caroline ever expected to have to ask when she signed her name to be part of this company two years ago.

Nor did she ever expect to have to ask at 2AM.

Or that she’d still be in the office. At 2AM.

See where she’s getting here?

“Why are you still in the office,” her boss peers at her over his pinball machine, “at 2AM?”

Her mouth opens, and then close, and she has to think really hard whether or not pissing off her boss would be worth it, at 2AM, when he steps out from behind the pinball machine and she sees that he’s quite naked from the hip-down.

“Mr. Mikaelson!” she screeches, looking everywhere but him, “I’m going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else.”

“Please, Mr. Mikaelson is what they call me in meetings,” he grins salaciously at her, “and in the bedroom. You can call me Kol.”

And the reason why her boss would need chloroform isn’t even something she should, could, or would be trying to dig out (at 2AM), if Alaric hadn’t decided, suddenly, in the middle of a meeting no less, that he wanted to spend the rest of his days learning how to swallow fire on a beach in the Philippines.

“My courses start next Wednesday!” he boasts in an attempt to bid them adieu, stuffing case after case in the back of the town car he’d called up. “Good bye, everybody! Or as the Filipinos say, Paalam!”

The car screeches off.

“One day,” Stefan says wistfully, “I, too, hope to be rich enough to be able to trade my company with a no-return flight ticket on”

Bonnie just wrinkles her nose. “So does this mean we’re unemployed or what?”

“Not quite,” says a voice behind them.

Bonnie, Stefan and Caroline turn to see a pair of shiny shoes, a sharp suit, and a terrifyingly-calm man standing behind them. In that order.

The crumpled piece of paper Alaric had pressed into her hand right before slamming the car door shut is barely legible, and after a good deal of squinting Caroline asks, “Are you Mr. Mikaelson?”

“Please, Mr. Mikaelson is what it says on my will,” he smiles, “Call me Elijah.”

“The chloroform, sweet Caroline?” Kol asks, in a tone that implies it isn’t really a question. His hands are already outstretched. At the doubt on her face he says, “I need it to test out a theory.”

She’s in a storage room with Kol, it’s 2:17am, and he is thankfully adequately pants-ed.

“What theory?” she asks, in a tone that implies she knows the proper way to ask a question. “And you were right, how did you know Kai from IT would have some in his third desk drawer?”

“Malachai isn’t really from IT,” Kol reveals conversationally as he tips the bottle onto a silk handkerchief he’d pulled out of his pocket, monogrammed R. Mikaelson. “He’s the hitman I hired.”

“I—” Caroline clamps her mouth shut. This has got to be a joke, right? Employee hazing, must be. “Okay,” is what she says instead.

Kol regards her appraisingly. “You’re a good sport!”

At that exact moment, the door to the storage room swings open and in walks a man, and with a gait Kol gave no hint of possessing he’s caught the man in a chokehold and pressed the monogrammed handkerchief to his face.

Caroline screams.

“You’re very shrill,” Kol narrows his eyes at her. “There was no mention of that in your resume.”

“You tried to kidnap a man in front of me!”

“That kidnapping thing only ever works in movies,” Kol tells her, rather reproachfully, but its effect on her is diminished somewhat by the fact that he’s hanging by his ankles from the ceiling.

“As an anaesthetic, chloroform is much too slow to be effective,” the man who’d Kol had tried to accost says while buttoning his sleeves again. “There is no way you could just clap a chloroform-soaked cloth over someone’s face and expect them to pitch sideways. Which is what anybody with half a brain would know.”

“Was that the theory you were testing?” Caroline asks Kol.

Kol gestures at the chains, “Rather ineffectively.”

All things considered, Caroline was taking this all rather well. Alaric had traded the company for a mimosa on a beach for Chrissake, it was totally expected that her career would be shambled by a family with questionable backgrounds.

Her suspension of disbelief about most things since the Mikaelsons had taken over had skyrocketed. Or maybe it was the fact that she’d been on her feet all day and her shoes were killing her.

And because it looks like Kol isn’t going to apologize anytime soon no matter how blotchy his face is getting, Caroline turns to the man whom she’d recognized from the company profile as the third shareholder in Mikaelson, Mikaelson, Mikaelson, Mikaelson & Mikaelson, and says, with as much conviction as she can muster at 2:31AM, “I’m very sorry about this, Mr. Mikaelson.”

“Please, Mr. Mikaelson is what’s on my father’s tombstone,” he says with a frown. “I’m Klaus.”

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[Written for Gency Week, Day 4; updated with fanart 7 Jan]

Warnings: Violence, mild profanity, and the antics of a spoilt younger son.

Summary: A different take on Genji’s origin story. Genji unexpectedly crosses paths with Mercy while she’s on a mission. 

“Genji-sama. The Boss wants to see you.”

Obscured by the steam of the hot springs, Genji couldn’t tell if Nishida was grimacing or smiling. Maybe neither. All those old dogs who had worked for his father for decades, they knew how to conceal their emotions.

So Hanzo was looking for him, eh? No doubt to give him another tongue lashing about the ‘Shimada Legacy’. Since their father’s death, his elder brother had become insufferably uptight about growing the Clan’s influence. Well, let the damn empire crumble. There was nothing noble about the Shimada Clan. Born out of the dark and secretive ways of the ninja, in modern times it was no more than a criminal syndicate.

 “You enjoy being an errand boy, Nishida?” Genji sneered.

“Errand boy is fine. What I don’t enjoy is being a babysitter.”

That stung. Genji rose from the bath and flung a wet towel at the old gangster. Nishida didn’t dodge and it struck him across the face with a sodden slap.

“Hanzo can keep waiting.”

Nishida shook off the towel and it fell to the floor. For a moment he hesitated, as if deliberating whether to say more.

“You have a problem, old man?”

When Nishida opened his mouth again, it was neither angry nor frustrated, just matter-of-fact. “It’s not just the Boss that has changed, Genji-sama. It’s a different inner circle now. The Old Master wouldn’t have liked it. I don’t like it. But it is what it is. We all need to watch out.” He paused and then turned to the door. “I’ll wait outside. We must go meet the Boss quickly.”

Genji scowled and pulled on his clothes. Peeking between the wooden panels of the sliding door, he could see a black limo and three men in dark jackets. His brother’s current right-hand man, Udaijin, was perched on the hood smoking a cigarette and looking at his watch. Genji was always being monitored, being judged. When he put a foot wrong, no-one in the Clan would dare physically attack him, but word would get to Hanzo and life was made unbearable for him in other ways.

Forget Hanamura. He needed to get lost in a mega-city, to bury himself in the chaos and the crowds. A few days in Tokyo living it up would cool his anger. Even the danger of trespassing the territory of other mobs – Tokyo was not under Shimada control – was nothing compared to the poisonous atmosphere here. Genji made his way to the second floor of the bath house, with little effort vaulted onto the roof of the next building, and was off.

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