#/you sound like an addict/

[composeregg]

Man not to sound like someone a doctor would never prescribe drugs to but what does a bitch gotta do to get some fucking drugs around here

[inkskinned]

there are a lot of posts out there that are positive and healthy coping mechanisms for handling the holidays. this is not one of them :)

i think there's like. going to be times in your life you will be stuck in a social situation that you cannot escape from gracefully. i do not know why the internet doesn't believe these times exist. it's not always just that your physical safety is at risk - sometimes it's legit like "i just don't currently have the energy or time to put in the effort of responding to this." sometimes it's a coworker you hate so much. sometimes it's just like, fine, you know? like you know you can handle your aunt when she's cheerily horrible, but if you actually set a boundary around her, it's going to be weeks of fallout with your father.

i don't know why people think the answer is always just "cut them out!" or "don't let them get away with that!" because ... the real world is tricky and complicated. i think kind of a lot of us have an internal "radiation poisoning" meter for certain people. like - i'm talking about the ones who are absolutely giving you gradual ick damage. like, you can handle them, but you'll be exhausted.

and yes. you absolutely should listen to your therapist and the good posts about handling others and set good boundaries and take care of yourself. prioritize peace.

HOWEVER :) ...... since im often in a situation with a Gradual Sense of Ick person i cannot just "cut out" of my life (without losing someone else precious to me) - i have sort of developed the most. maladaptive form of mischief possible. because like, if i'm going to have to listen to this shit again, i like to have a little bit of private fun with it.

now! again, i am physically safe, just mentally drained by this man. you should only do this with people you are not in danger with. which leads me to my suggestions for when your Unfortunate Acquaintance shows up and says oh everyone pay attention to me.

my favorite word is "maybe!" said as brightly and happily as possible. whenever the Horrible Person starts in on a topic you do not want to go further with, particularly if they make a claim that you know to be inaccurate, do not respond to it. you and i have both tried to actually argue with this person, and it hasn't gone well, because this person just wants the drama of an argument. however, "maybe!" gives them literally nothing to go on. it is incredibly disarming. they are used to people having some response. they know they can't prove what they're saying, and maybe! treats them like the child they are. it dismisses them in the politest way possible.

i like to say maybe! and then, in their stunned silence, immediately change the subject. this is because i have adhd and i will have something unrelated to talk about, but if you can't think of topics fast enough, i recommend just pointing to something and saying, "isn't that lovely?" because fuck you let's bring in some positivity.

by the way. that second trick - of pointing to something and stating an opinion about it? - that just works on its own, like, 70% of the time. i picked it up from teaching preschoolers. it's an intentional "redirect". it stops children crying and it also stops grown adults from finishing their explanation on why women belong in kitchens. dual wielding!

keep it silly for yourself. i absolutely do not care if people think i'm fucking stupid (it's more fun if they do) and as a result i will purposefully misunderstand things just to see how long it takes them to realize i've completely removed them from the subject at hand. when they say "women aren't funny" i get to be like. "which women." "all women." "all women in america?" "no in the world." "like the mole people? the people in the world?" "what? no. like, alive." "oh are we not counting the mole people?" "what the fuck are you talking about." "you don't believe in the mole people?"

similarly, i play a personal game called "one up me." my Evil Acquaintance literally knows this game exists (my family & friends caught onto it and now also play it) and it always fucking gets him. i don't know why. you have to be willing to be a little free-spirited on this one, though. the trick is that when they make one of those horrible little bigoted or annoying comments they are always making, you need to go one unit weirder. not more intense, mind you - just more weird. "you don't look good in that dress." "yeah, actually, my other dress was covered in squid ink due to a mishap at the soup store." "you shouldn't wear such revealing clothes." "wait, what? oh shit. sorry, your son tears off strips when no one is looking and eats them. i swear it was longer before we left the building."

the point of "one up me" is to completely upend this person's narrative. we both know this person likes setting up situations where you cannot "win" and then they really like telling other people how badly you handled it. in a usual situation, if you respond "please don't say something that rude", you're a bitch. but if you let it happen, you're letting yourself be debased. they are not usually expecting door number three: unflappably odd. because what are they going to say when they're telling everyone how badly you behaved? "she said my son eats her dresses" ".... okay?"

if you can, form an allyship with someone whomst you can tagteam with. where they can pick up on your weird "soup store" story and run with it.

the following phrase is amazing and can be deployed for any situation: "oh, be nice :) it's the holidays!" i do not know why this works as often as it does. i'll say it for the most random shit. i think this is bc most of the time these people know they're being impolite, they just like to fight.

godbless. when in doubt, remember that you could always start stealing their pens.

the whole point of this is - if you can't escape. maybe see how long you can just be. like. a horrible little menace.

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone^2 - Separation Strikes

"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.

His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.

Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.

And it was summer; Damian starts today.

"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."

Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.

"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"

"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."

Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.

Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.

Danny just...

His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.

He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.

Not like he was.

Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.

He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.

Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.

His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.

(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)

Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"

He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.

Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.

He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.

Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."

"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.

Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?

He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."

Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"

Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.

And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.

His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."

Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"

That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"

Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.

"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."

Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.

"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."

Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"

[worstlovesong]

No thoughts just this Lucy look [x]

[shanastoryteller]

whenever I see someone equating sugar and caffeine to narcotics and alcohol I'm like Hm! weird and off-putting way to let everyone know that addiction has no presence in your life, but good for you I guess

[lazylittledragon]

Feel free to ignore if this is intruding but I remember you posting about dealing with caffeine addiction and I hope you're doing ok <3 Addiction is really hard to deal with so I hope everything is going alright for you!

!! thank you for checking in <3333

i haven't cut it out completely (i really don't think i'd be able to) but i'm still doing much better, i've cut down from 6 shots per cup to only 2. i've also changed my sleep/eating habits so now i don't feel like i need the caffeine as much because i just don't feel as shit anymore.

it's been very nice :3

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

glad to see you posting a bit more again! hope you're feeling well + having a good spooky season. what are you doing for Halloween?

Thank you! Without getting into too many grody details, I have some lovely doctors who've helped me get a drug regimen that has my symptoms way down. So while I still have Your Digestion Is Completely Fucked, Seriously Your Shit-For-Brains Intestines Can't Do Anything Right To The Point Where It Fucked Up Your Brain (the official diagnosis) it's waaaay more under control than it was a few months ago.

And thank you to everyone who messaged me support. When I say that on multiple occasions you all made me cry actual tears while curled up on the floor of the bathroom, I do mean it in a good way.

[dailykeiji]

Give us the catboy

today's keiji is: for the love of god somebody please help me

[lizardinkart]

I like to think about having ADHD like being like a werewolf:

When I’m medicated, I am a Normal Man. Completing Tasks. Having Conversations. A diligent and focused individual.

And then when I’m not medicated, the Beast (read: oversized puppy on crack) comes out. Easily excitable. Prone to violence (runs into things). Makes many noises that couldn’t even generously be called human. A completely directionless little creecher that is perfectly content to chase its own tail around

[ratwithhands]

I'm curious. I've seen your art and something that's come to my mind is what actually got you attached with the Subway brothers. Your narrative on their different AU forms is so unique which is what brought me to that question

Alright, rat history time.

So basically back in 2021-2022, I was working on an old OC storyline (about 3 years old by then) and I was in grade 9 so I was like “A new Pokémon game? Pfft, like I care” and just didn’t watch any of the stuff related to PLA when it dropped. I still got recommended Twitter posts about it on Instagram and I ended up seeing this one.

I tried looking up Ingo cause I was like "oh, funky design, looks like a captain or something" but I didn't end up finding anything so I didn't press further. Anyways in March break of 2022, I got bored and decided to put some game streams on in the background while I drew. I saw Alpharad's PLA video and decided to watch it for a bit when I saw Ingo.

I was like "Hey you're the guy from Twitter!" and since I knew his name now, I looked him up and found his Bulbapedia article. I found him much more interesting than the rest of the PLA cast since he had history outside PLA, and I ended up reading up whatever I could find on him. I also by extension discovered Emmet this way, which only served to suck me deeper down the rabbit hole. By the end of March break I had a fan OC and 2 AUs made with more on the way, as well as a YouTube recommended page with nothing but theory videos on Ingo and decade old Submas content.

Around May I decided to decommission my OC storyline for personal reasons, and by this point Submas was starting to occupy more of my creative work anyways. Since I didn't have my storyline to put my energy into, I started funnelling literally any story ideas into Submas. This led to nonstop content for a shockingly long time, and ofc I'm still coming up with stuff now.

Long story short, I got attached to them by accident! It was a "right place, right time" sort of thing since they came in as I was starting to get sluggish with my original content and I ended up being more interested in writing for them.

As for narratives, I am effectively playing dolls with these guys. Usually the kind of stuff that I write for them is meant for OCs, but I dumped the 60+ person cast so I put that energy into them instead.

Most AUs will either have a core theme, an out of pocket idea, or both to make things interesting. Usually I just come up with a dumbass idea like "what if we brought ReBURST back for a rerun" or "what if Emmet signed a contract with an eldritch space spider" or "what if Submas could see into the future" and stuff like that, then it picks up themes as I keep writing. For some silly examples:

Burst is based on Pokémon ReBURST and the idea of human-Pokémon fusion, but there's focus on skill, how characters misperceive it, and resentment as a result. There's also a spotlight on inferiority complexes, bottled up guilt, and blind confidence depending on which main character you look at

Journal is about a diary that helps Ingo to regain his memories, and it focuses on remembrance and regret as a result of him reading it. Spotlight on lacking awareness vs hyper awareness and the monotony of living as people around you leave

Oracle is exactly what it sounds like, with the twins being able to see into the future. It focuses on cooperation and the importance of working together, but also learning how to work alone. The spotlight's on jealousy and gratitude for this one, though the latter greatly outweighs the former in this case

I also just have AUs I made to try deranged shit for funsies, like Sapioflora, Cybernetic/Z-Λ, Team Supernova, and Idol. Those are mostly for exploring goofy ideas that may or may not go anywhere.

Right anyways basically I just saw Submas after watching PLA gameplay and found the twins more interesting to write about than the project I'd exhausted by then. The narratives are like that because the AU ideas I make are actually OC concepts that I modify to fit Pokémon specifically for these two or ideas about the two that I'd like to explore. Hope that answers the question ^^*

[boringwomanwithabook]

i’m making a pot of coffee right now, what type of blend do you typically gravitate towards? good morning btw 🖤

!!!!!! ANYTHING I am not picky, I'd be so grateful it doesn't matter hahaha I would guzzle a pot of shitty diner coffee as is...you could IV drip me stale burnt dried out plain black coffee from the gas station and I'd be on my hands and knees thanking you 🥲

[angelnumber27]

My life has improved a lot since being more consistent with responding to and talking to friends and saying yes to plans instead of letting anxiety make me say no. Maintaining good relationships and having a support system is so important. I isolated myself badly for over two years just out of fear and anxiety and depression and I was REALLY suicidal not that long ago. I recently decided that I deserve to actually live and have fun and be with my friends, not just isolate and rot in bed and it was literally a life-changing decision

[b0amagination]

Tastes of Whumptober: Day 26

Continued directly from Day 16! A lighter day.

Content warnings for: implied alcohol dependency and slight suicidal ideation

Breakfast Table

“Mornin’, Payge.” They waved with a glass of orange juice. 

Nicolai had left him a bit of privacy this morning, considering the events of the previous night. He was grateful for it, and for the underarm crutch he’d been offered. 

You won’t want to put weight on that for a while, now. I broke my ankle a few years ago but kept the crutches.”

“Why?”

“The NHS paid for them. Figured I earned it.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“That’s an awful plain looking tequila sunrise. Just a mimosa this morning?” He grinned, slipping into the chair with a bit of effort and leaning the walking aid against the table. 

“Just orange juice with your pills. I’m afraid my liquor cabinet isn’t as… robust as yours.” A hint of judgment crept into Nicolai’s tone, but he paid it no mind.

“Pills? You know that’s not my style,” Payge laughed, voice scratching around exhaustion and exertion.

“Vitamin D, magnesium, and iron. They’ll help you heal up.”

The three pills sat next to his tall glass and he took a small sip to down each one.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to.” It was strange. To be pampered like this. His hands were trembling, probably for a number of reasons. 

“Make sure you finish the whole glass.” An appliance beeped somewhere behind them. “Ah! What do you take in your porridge?”

Nicolai jumped up and opened the microwave, carefully removing two steaming bowls and heaping one with apple slices and honey.

“I’m not especially picky, just… whatever you have?”

“Try again. What do you like?” they asked but Payge hesitated, unwilling to make their work harder.

“Pecans and maple syrup, but only if you’ve got it on hand, okay?”

They opened the fridge and shook the jar of halved pecans at him like they were enticing a dog with treats, but his growling stomach told him he wasn’t much better off. He watched them be sprinkled on, swirled with syrup, and topped with a pinch of brown sugar.

“You really shouldn’t have, Nic. You didn’t do much good scraping me off death’s door, of all people.”

“I wouldn’t call it the door. You were on its porch, maybe. In the garden, more like,” they shrugged, setting a bowl at each placement. Nicolai perched back on their chair. 

“I can’t imagine she’d have much use for that,” he laughed, earning a smile in return. “Does she grow bones from scratch?”

“Maybe she grows flowers to decorate her favorite graves.” They hadn’t taken a bite yet, but Payge’s gaze weighed heavy on breakfast. A flourish of the spoon told him it was alright to go ahead.

He held back as well as he could from scarfing down each and every morsel, instead taking heaping spoonfuls and throwing back the juice. A mild improvement. 

“I’ll be out of your hair by the evening, by the way. Just might need a moment to arrange a ride,” he murmured into perfect oats. 

“Er, no. Absolutely not.”

“What?”

“You’re grievously injured, your bike’s still in the shop, and you shouldn’t be walking to work.” Nicolai counted out each reason on a finger. “And you clearly won’t take care of yourself.”

“I’ll stay over somewhere else. I can’t go and burden you like this out of nowhere, Nic! We weren’t even close enough to meet one on one before all this.”

“And yet I was the only one to show up yesterday.” They tilted their head. “Would anyone closer have stopped for you?”

He swallowed hard. Would they?

“Maybe.”

“Stay. I’ll put you back together, Payge.”

[djarinova]

insane debut single btw. im obsessed with her

[party-lemon]

i hope you all know (i have never told you this) that i have a very very cute cat called klaus, named so after my family binged umbrella academy three-ish years ago

[malcolm-reeds-pineapple]

Was talking about cutting back on mind-altering chemicals with my dad last week and he was like lol have you ever heard the No-No Song? And naturally I put it on because fucking no?? And anyway, I’d like to personally send a fuck you to Ringo Starr for absolutely DECIMATING my Spotify wrapped this year because that song smacks so much ass.

Like songs about sobriety are usually so fucking sad and gut wrenching but Ringo just SMASHES into the scene going “No, no, no 🤭 I don’t *sniff* 😎 no more ☮️❤️🥦 I’m tired of waking up on the floor ✌🏻🤭💖” and it’s literally the best song to describe the experience of quitting substances in the least traumatic way in which your Brain Develops and you just Don’t Want To anymore. I hate the song so so much because that was literally my experience like I was in a bathroom about to take a line with my friend and I was like “aw fuck I really don’t need a blow comedown tomorrow, those suck” and I just said no??? Haven’t touched it since 😭😭