#tw codependency

[sunnylovescats]

Remember back in the old days when we used to think the fandom over exaggerated the exile arc, and then you dig up clips likes this

[puriteenism]

Give me more percabeth where they're weird codependent little freaks. Give me percabeth where the separation anxiety results in 219 dead 1000s injured. Give me percabeth where they'd probably glue themselves together if they found out how. Give me percabeth who lock themselves out to the outside world because the only people that matter are them and what they've been through. Give me percabeth who hate everyone except each other. Give me Percabeth who love each other so, so much that it goes past obsession, they are the only people that deserve to exist because its them and only them against the world.

[holysugu]

gojo and geto have abandonment issues, but they express them in different ways.

when gojo deems you as a safe person to get involved with, he latches onto you very quickly. It’s almost like getting whiplash with how quickly he emotionally attaches to you. He needs to be around you all the time, and if he does have to go on a mission abroad, that doesn’t stop him from texting and calling you whenever he possibly can.

If he gets the sense that you’re pulling away, he get fearful. He starts to overcompensate to give you reasons to not leave him, and often needs a lot of reassurance that you aren’t leaving. He doesn’t outright come to you and say that he needs reassurance, but you’ll be able to pick up the need within his actions. He begins showering you in more expensive gift even more often than he already does. He ignores smaller missions to spend more time with you, attaching himself to you physically any chance he can. In a way he suffocates you so you don’t have the chance to even think about leaving him, cause who would want to give up the lavish lifestyle he’s providing you?

Geto, however, is distant with his abandonment problems, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t deeply emotionally attached to you. His issues could fall under the radar for people on the outside looking in, but there’s little signs that you’d be able to pick out that explain a different story. He can be very suffocating in the sense that he’s controlling. Not outright, but in the way that makes you doubt your own decision making. If he makes you think you wouldn’t be able to survive emotionally or physically without him, that means you won’t leave.

He’ll comfort you during a particular bad day, hushing your sobs with a gentle hand brushing over your hair as he rocked you in his lap. “Don’t worry, sweet thing. I’ll take care of everything, okay? No more tears.”

And it would feel so good to not have to worry about trivial things anymore. It was only a matter of time before you relied on him for anything and everything with a simple sniffle and sob into his chest. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[quill-writes]

dark is the tomb, the womb, the passing hour-hand

Jason and Sheila survive Ethiopia, held captive by the Joker and tortured to the breaking point for his sick amusement. As Bruce races to find them, Mother and Son form an unbreakable bond, one that threatens to up-end Jason’s life when they are freed and he struggles to adjust to life outside a cage. All the while, a seed planted by the Joker's torture grows. Or: What if Sheila lives, and is more than her worst choices? Day 6 of the 2025 Jason Todd Week event. Scars | Enemy to Caretaker | Red Hood and the Outlaws

My end to @jasontoddweek2025! A little late, but the spirit is there.

[brainr0t-landfill]

📋Compartment Syndrome

gn! reader x Captain Price

"...I had to kill it to keep it, framed it afterwards, above my bed so I could see it each morning."

-???

(tw: unhealthy relationship, phisical violence, mentions of drugs, minor mention of reader 'being the other woman')

You served John divorce paper today.

He's sat at the kitchen table blunt nails drumming against mahagoney as he look at you, then the documents, less surprised or heartbroken more expectant.

And it baffles you how a man so big can look so small, how a man that fills up doorways and commands the air around him like second nature can slump his shoulders, hide his tears with coughs.

İt was a few years in the making and even then you feel bad, this is the man you love, loved; you used to stay up at night waiting for his footsteps on the front lawn. You have to remind yourself that was over five years ago, back when he actually bothered with you and the home, the love he had vowed to build with you, left high and dry like an abonded building spiderwebs in the corners and illegible graffiti on the walls, suffocating dust clouds merging with ominous shadows.

You used to hotbox in buildings like that, you and what few friends you had back in the days he wouldn't even look your way.

"And-"

He lifts the first paper pretends to take a look at the one below that and pushes them away from him, a muscle feathers in his jaw.

"-your reasoning for this? I'd like to think you wouldn't ruin us over something petty luv."

He knows and you know that he knows, you've argued about it often, you wanted him to be home more, you wanted him to be safe, you wanted him to at least bother interacting with you beyond sex, dinner and whenever he couldn't find the remote.

It wasn't even about his job at this point the day you had married that bright eyed, headstrong young man you knew you'd always be the other woman to his job you just desperately want his shadow out of your home at this point.

You clear your voice ,eyes on your weathered house slippers.

"Look I don't want to offend you, I don't even wanna cut you off completely! I just think-"

"Straight to the point, sweetheart."

He emphasis the word sweetheart, today of all days, knowing how it makes you feel.

"Neglect."

You answer, his eyes widden ,nose flaring.

"Neglect? Oh please we've been over this honey, I don't neglect you I'm not home kissing your feet all the damn time because I have a fucking job to do! I'm the one who keeps a roof over your head and defends this country while you sit at home and twiddle your thumbs! God you're fuckin infuriating, this is why you can't find a damn job, you braindead homebody-"

"I started working at the new school, the one that opened last year, you didn't get my messages?"

He falters, runs a hand over his overgrown beard.

"You did? That's- luv that's amazing! How's the pay? Are your colleagues-"

"Let's- let's just stay on subject, please."

You tell him doing your best to keep your voice even and cold.

He deflates, leaning back in his chair as he sighs. He looks awfull, unshaven, hair greasy, shirt dotted with blood and one of his arms in a sling you'd said that it was important that you couldn't wait for him to change or shower, less you chikcen out like the first five times it used to feel impossible to leave him once, he was bigger than life with each little bastardized segment leading up to him in some capacity.

"Luv, listen I know you're frazzled I've been gone for a month and I was barely home for a week before that, I understand ya wanna pick at me and get ya anger out but I've had a long ass month, okay? I just want a shower, your cooking then I want to cuddle up to the love of my life, yeah? Give an old man a break and for fucks sake get rid of these."

He gets up with a groan and pushes the papers towards you it always suprises you, how quickly he can dismiss arguments you've spent hours thinking through, how small he can make you feel.

"Price, look-"

"What the fock did ya just call me?"

"-I know it's painful to think about but this relationship obviously isn't serving either of us anymore, you're too busy for it and I don't think I ca-"

He has you against the wall before you can even react, shoulders and chest crushing you against the smooth, pearly white surface as his humid breath warms your cheek, your arm twisted across your back in the grip of his good hand; pain like coke sparking cruel stars in your visom.

"Shut. The fuck. Up."

He growls in your ear mashing his nose against your cheekbone.

"There is no reason for us to be together, just listen to me for a second-"

You hiss in pain as he twists your arm further, your ring finger -adorned by his mother's heavy, heirloom ring- brushing against your shoulder blade.

"I love you and you love me, that's plenty reason to stay together. Isn't it?"

It's marvellous how much conviction he can put into that excuse when you're pretty sure it's his hundredth time saying it, slightly different context, same words. You almost miss the times you'd jump through hoops for a smile from him when he was indifferent to you because he had no reason to treat you any way else.

"Isn't it?"

You nod, cheek rubbing against the wall as your eyes water.

He relaxes his grip on your arm, presses firm, moist kisses against your face.

"That's my baby, I know you're upset, I know and I'll make it up to you, I promised 'n I always keep my promises don't I?"

Your face is sour with all the promises he broke, all the times he let you down, left you alone as you nod.

"Use your words luv."

You take a deep breath, trying to find your words through the pain of your twisted muscles, your straining elbow, your back straight and stiff as a cutting board that your arm is pinned on.

"Yes, John."

He clicks his tounge, sharp sigh brushing against the side of your face.

"I just got injured ya ought to be a little bit sweeter."

"Yes,-"

You take as deep a breath as his crushing body allows.

"Yes, honey."

He smiles, letting go of you and stepping back allowing you- granting you space to breath, to turn around and rub at your burning arm something too close to guilt for comfort in his eyes. You stay like that for a few moments, feeling his eyes across your skin; slow and heavy like his hands like something you have to work to keep on you.

"One last thing?"

You look up, his eyes are wet. He hands you the divorce papers. Your lawyer will be so disappointed.

"Rip them and think about what you're doing next time, how your actions affect me."

You take them, the pristine paper shaking in your hands as your rip them, barely seeing through your tears you walk over to the bin.

He looms over you, broad shadow blanketing, eclipsing yours, swallowing it. He wraps his good arm around your waist when you're done, presses his barrel chest against you stil-stiff back and flutters kisses from the base of your neck up to your jawline.

"Y'know I love you."

[diddykitty746]

Deltarune sketchpad

[jynxedshapeshifter]

I'm replaying part of AAI to record a specific part of it and I kinda forgot that Gumshoe's canonically dependent on Edgeworth? Like whether it's mutual or not Edgeworth and Gumshoe have a codependent dynamic. It's a bit interesting to me

[victor-cartoons]

@chekhov-roulette finished hehehe >:3

Of course I had to add the drawing "I depend on you"

[renisdefdead]

I need you here.

A hand wrapped round my neck

i still wish you were fucking dead

it’s like i speak in a language you don’t understand

just tears and babbles of a dead man

if i were to die, leave this mortal plane

would you even cry, or feel a little pain?

i bleed and scream and cry ‘no more’

yet your still here watching me squirm and claw.

I need you.

I still need you.

It’s an impossible need.

just Claw at me till i bleed.

I need you to hold me tight till my wounds reopen

I need you to hold my eyes out, don’t let me close them.

Because i just might miss a second to see:

An angelic face filled with glee

You can’t do no wrong, can you?

With wings and a halo

i’m simply no value

With horns and a tail 

i feel rather unloveable 

When comparing

I see no difference between me and hells worst sin.

[lunadademon14]

Huh. So the codependency WAS a giver and taker relationship and now thatd they're somewhat gone letting me have time to think about how bad the situationship was, no yeah, that was a horrendous friendship actually

[iri-desky]

Yeah I think I'm done with best friends. Yeah it's for my character development. Yeah getting rid of that one person has gutted me and turned my insides out. Yeah the time I had with that person despite being superficially joyous in fact ached ten times more than the time I had without them. Yeah I'm not exaggerating. Yeah, it was for the better. But that's why I'm giving up on best friends. Wait what do you mean that I can get the same character development WITHOUT giving up on love and friendship and life's wonders and only giving THEM up as a friend what. What do you mean

[searenbound]

Being codependent with bestie Midoriya you refuse to let your partner make boundaries about. He’s just your best friend and platonic soulmate that you’d forget the platonic part for if he told you he wants you but shh it’s not important and you can’t imagine life without him!

He’s been your number one since high school and you won’t throw away 10 years of friendship for someone who might not be there by next year!

Izuku and you, you’ll be at each other’s wedding no matter who you marry, your current partner though? Questionable.

[quill-writes]

Chapter 2 - fake sounds and plastic feelings

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62246254/chapters/160630030

Jason finally makes it out of the Jokers clutches, Sheila in tow. But months of slow recovery reveal that the Manor and it's inhabitants are not what he remembers, and his mind is not fully his own. When a jaunt into Gotham turns bad, and Jason is left reeling in the aftermath, he is forced to confront the growing rift between his parents, and in his own heart. Or: Jason eats a burger and makes a friend, but some asshole just has to ruin it.

Day 6 of the 2025 Jason Todd Week event. Scars | Enemy to Caretaker | Red Hood and the Outlaws

@jasontoddweek2025

[brainr0t-landfill]

🌃Mercurial

ghoap x male reader

Chapter Five: Restless

"It can't be unlearned I've known the warmth of your doorways"

-Hozier, It Will Comeback

Running brings about a sick kind of fun.

It's like the allure of sticking forks into power sockets, like the charm of placing thumb and index finger on each side of a wound, gently pulling to see how deep it goes, how much it will hurt.

it's late at night when Johnny shakes you by the shoulders, ripping the blanket off of you. You're awake laying in the bed by yourself face stinging in the places you picked at your brows and skin you're cold and worse, you're guilty. 

"He's 'ere!"

His sounds relieved like the world has tilted on it's axis and sat just right.

Johnny looks at you again and again, runs his rough hands over your body, presses on your ribs and feels your pulse before you can even speak.

"Wha's goin on?"

You ask trying to feign being sleep drunk. Simon's comes into the room and drops the keys you had left on the coffee table on your bare chest.

"Windows wide open! Front door unlocked! What the fuck were ya thinking?!"

He rips his mask off and tosses it somewhere in the room, his face is sunken ,a butterfly stitch on his cheekbone, eyes like the dead pinning you to the still-cold bed.

"Ya could've been robbed! Kidnapped! Have you lost your damn mind?!"

He growls and it finnaly clicks that they're both swinging, drifting between who they had to be just a few short hours ago and who they can be here, now. It feeds a certain part of you that takes pride in being yelled at, being scrutinized because it means you're noticed, it means you enrage. But you understand that the tension in the room doesn't come from a place of hate or judgement but rather concern, care. It makes you feel awful for neglecting something that had been so important to them since before you were even a thing; your safety. On the other hand it's nice to get a taste of Soap and Ghost every once in a while.

You live on the run, money drains quickly and health declines quicker but it keeps you almost guilt-free and always on edge. Razor sharp, summer coat shedded and winter coat thicker than ever.

Just now do you realize how comfortable you were when you lived with Simon and Johnny because you seek out fear like your life depends on it, you get up and check the door everytime there's a noise, you go through your belongings every time you come back from work to see if they've been messed with. You know full well you're not worth chasing for this long, it's been a weeks, your burner phone doesn't have a calender but you have a vauge understanding that it's been that long, they should be home by now, you hope they're well.

You make a point of not thinking about their reactions when they came home and you were nowhere to be found, phone dead and all your belongings in place, you don't want to imagine the recycled heartbreak in Johnny's face, you don't want to think of Simon seeing what your not-so-recent well behaved behaviour for what it truly was a ploy, an act.

Which feels false when you know you enjoyed those months of peace much more than any period in your relationship, when they got you back from the cabin and slowly got you settled back home, restrictions erased the more trust-worthy you were, bounderies thought over and re-establised. İt granted you ample space to be you in the realtionship, to be demanding, aware, equal.  The pain of hurting them eased by them hurting than healing you. The temporary peace period where you let yourself have the comfort, the warmth of their love in bulk for you'd be without it, for years to come if you were successful.

You don't deserve warmth, and you foolishly though you could just take a peek through the door.

You wonder if they think you've been kidnapped, you wonder if they finnaly accepted that's it better for them if they cut ties with you, you wonder if your belongings ended up in the trash or the local goodwill or if Johnny's wearing your old band tee to bed, you wonder if Simon's gotten himself a new mechanic to maintain his car, you hope he has.

Sometimes you think about settling ,about finnaly accepting that you're not worth the work it takes to hunt for this long, sometimes you want to relax and stay for a bit longer and sometimes -shamefully- you dream of being found again, brought back home; because that's what it is and that's what it will always be. It's easy to convince yourself that the road is your home when you're living like this, untethered and nihilistic but you can't help the longing you have for the music Simon would put on before bed, the framed happy pictures on the walls, Johnny's cooking after a hard long day at work, you know the orange light spilling out of the windows now through the crack between patterned curtains, of the warmth when the three of you lay together.

It's nothing but longing you remind yourself , you don't have a place there anymore, you never did.

You hop from town to town not thinking, not feeling, not hurting or at least you try to and you press salt on the fresh wound by conjuring up images and phantoms of them when there is none.

[lazuli-larimar]

… Sure. I’ve been in your shoes. That shit sucks. Its probably effecting you more than you know. Get out of there someday. Trust me, it’ll do WONDERS for your mental health.

Sylvia, can you hide this one from Jayden just in case?

On it.

Truth is, I know you're right. I can't fix him, that's pretty damn obvious by now. But I'm also scared to leave him to his own devices. He's so self-destructive, it's really worrying.

I know it shouldn't be my responsibility to save him from himself. But shit sucks sometimes, and the two of us are together now, like it or not.

Besides, before we met, he was even worse in some ways. I had to help him unlearn a lot of misogynistic nonsense, because apparently his parents didn't give a shit about teaching their kids anything important.

[neuro-gal-thoughts]

Thinking about how I'm a people pleaser and I let rudeness slide. How I need to accept that some relationships really do need to end if I feel like I have to tread carefully with some people. How I feel bad or negative when I'm with certain persons.

One example, a couple years ago I was walking at a crosswalk with a (at the time) friend. Let's call her Maria.

We were probably 2/3 of the way across the road and the Walking light signal was flashing that we had less than 5 seconds left to walk. Maria quickened her pace and told me to hurry up. I laughed and said I don't need to rush. If drivers have to wait an extra second for me to finish crossing it's not a big deal.

As we resumed our walk, I explained to Maria that I've always felt a nonverbal pressure to "keep up" with people. I'm surrounded by fast walkers and for the first 35-ish years of my life, I always felt like I had to rush my walking to avoid falling behind.

However, I came across a self-help style blog where the author wrote about how they walked fast as a subconscious fear/anxiety. They're afraid so they walk fast as a means to feel like they're running away from or outpacing danger/their fear. Also, they were so busy walking fast they weren't enjoying life.

I found it profound because I certainly walked fast. I tended to assume someone was right behind me and I had to walk fast to not be in their way. I realized it was my anxiety flaring up and my fear controlling me to outpace the imagined danger in my head. Also, I've had desires of strolling at a slow pace so I could take in the scenery and do a bit of people watching. If the company I keep walks fast, they can walk fast. I'll eventually catch up with them when we reach our shared destination.

Maria followed up my little story with a story of her own.

A coworker of hers went to an apple farm to do some apple picking. An aunt (who Maria said without prompt was a fat woman) joined the coworkers' family apple picking, and she complained about all the walking, ruining the family's enjoyment. She laughed with glee as she told the story and made a few jabs about how entitled fat people are.

I myself am fat.

I didn't find the story funny. And I found Maria's treatment of her coworker's aunt dehumanizing. I thought she was being cruel. I felt uncomfortable.

I felt like Maria was telling me without telling me that she didn't like that I didn't rush like she did at the crosswalk, and that she thought I was wrong to think and believe the views I shared with her.

I didn't want to ruin our time together by calling her out. Also, she drove us into the city. I chose to ignore it and changed the subject.

I understand now. When someone is dismissive with me, I don't have to tolerate it. I could have told Maria I didn't want to hang out with her anymore and ordered an Uber ride home. I could have come out and asked her "what's the point of that story with your coworker's aunt?" Or "So are you saying I'm like your coworker's aunt?"

I'm scared of confrontation. Growing up, any form of trying to stand up for myself in my family was often met with violence.

Physical hitting or throwing things at me. Violently yelling at me for being out of line. Verbally attacking me for what felt like hours for daring to be defiant or talking back.

That last one was a favorite of my dad's. Loud rants about how wrong I am. How he's right. How dare I say anything. If I wanted a confrontation, he would take up all the space to win the argument.

So yeah. Maria was not a good friend to me by dismissing me and by not taking me seriously and negatively judging me for the way I look. And even if that was not her intention, it's OK for me to admit that my feelings were hurt.

I was not a good friend to her by not telling her the truth. It was unfair of me to get mad at her and not talk to her about it. I was not a good role model to my inner child for not standing up for myself.

But I understand that I don't need to be around someone who makes me feel bad just because we were friends when I was a kid. Even if outside of their seemingly random bouts of cruelty they are nice to be around, it's best for a people pleaser like me not to be close to them.

I set myself up to get hurt and I don't need to.

Learning to identify and let go of codependency is hard. I can't control what other people do, but I can control what I do.

No more letting go of people saying things that hurt my feelings. It's OK to try to find less defensive or accusatory ways to call people out. It's OK to be honest and say my feelings were hurt and I want my feelings to be treated seriously.