#(everyone is either coping poorly or very poorly)

[starlitfunkster]

Damn, these images are big. Anyways, this is a new AU for Inanimate Insanity!

To recap from my DA: Some idiot (aka MePhone4) accidentally kills 16 contestants permanently killed. Literally no one has any idea how this happened at all, but it did. He reaches out to our world and gets 16 people like these dead contestants to replace them. Naturally, not everyone's going to be happy about these replacements.

Gumdrop replaces Marshmallow. She's.. not exactly known for being sweet. She's kind of a bitch in a sweet coating. In short, that means she won't get along with Apple at all. Not that it was going to happen ever, since Apple got just as mad as Marshmallow did when MePhone4 replaced Bow.

Switchblade replaces Knife. Their just in a phase, being into rock, and edgy media... yeah. MePhone really dropped the ball on this one. Somehow, he became friends with Goo. No one knows why, but some point out it's probably because Switchblade's never had a friend before.

Quarter replaces Nickel. He didn't want to become the new leader of the Grand Slams, since that would mean leading.. and he doesn't think he's a good leader! He's also much more earnest and trustworthy than Nickel.. which is the cause for arguments whenever Quarter visits to Purgatory Mansion.

Rugby Ball replaces Baseball. She's a cheerleader! That's basically it. Also does not want to be a leader, because she's always been told by friends and family around her that she will never be good enough to lead. That she should always just be supportive no matter what. Even when her father did reprehensible stuff to her sister.

Present replaces Box. She's probably the most friendly of the newcomers, next to Rugby Ball and Bamboo! Often she's used to store items, much like Suitcase. Except for weapons, Present resents being used to store weapons. She's often seen comforting Suitcase and Balloon to the best of her abilities, or helping Lightbulb cope with the deaths she just witnessed.

Soup replaces Tissues. One of the more unorthodox replacements, Soup used to be bedridden ever since he was a child. It was due to a heart disease, mixed with a bad cold. Now that he was brought to this competition, he can walk again.. which has made him very happy. Soup is one of the few people who visits Purgatory Mansion, often he's seen speaking with Tissues.

Spork replaces Silver Spoon. Shockingly, he's not rich. I know right, so surprising. (/s) All jokes aside, Spork actually comes from a shelter. He watches over the children in the shelter, and even gets paid a little! It's not much, but he admits its better than his old home. Apparently he was also an orphan, and just became the big step brother to this shelter because he learnt how to cook at a young age. He's still trying his best to keep Paintbrush calm during challenges, making sure they don't break down due to stress. (Also Silver Spoon despises Spork for some reason. Can't imagine why though.)

Gauze replaces Lifering. She helps be the nurse on the competition. As such, she is not competing herself. Although she has to remind the other contestants that she is no therapist, and they should probably consult one.. if the competition even has one, that is. She's trying her best to fill in LIfering's shoes, and so far it's been very hard for her.

Boombox replaces Microphone. Their a dork, in the cute way. Everyone likes listening to their attempts at music.. but oddly, they are often seen at Purgatory Mansion. One has to wonder why they are there almost all the time.

File replaces Cabby. Another contestant with big shoes to fill, this collector of information always remembers what's within his file at the time. Removing a file could be bad in his case, so he began stapling the files inside of him. Of course that's hurting him, and the other contestants are trying to get him to stop that.

Teacup replaces Tea Kettle. She's antique, so she doesn't like being filled with liquids! As a result, if she were to be in a swimming challenge, she'd most likely sink fast. Nothing much is known about her aside from her obsession with antique objects. Apparently she has a thing for Silver Spoon, even now that he's a ghost in Purgatory Mansion.

Bamboo replaces Clover. One lucky contestant who gets replaced by a.. less lucky one. Bamboo is lucky in their own ways! For instance, they got planted in a pot. Said pot would get robotic limbs attached to them by Test Tube so that way Bamboo can move. They also have been seen ogling at the Purgatory Mansion, but.. they aren't entering anytime soon, because they have a fear of ghosts!

Ketchup and Mustard replaces Salt and Pepper. No one was sad when Salt and Pepper were revealed to have been of the 16 killed. And then they were replaced with a duo comprising of two people who love each other. Also they may or may not be very good at the competition? Power couples are fun to make. :]

Medal replaces Trophy. This athlete is known to have two personalities shown depending on the situation. One is his public, jock personality. And the other.. is his scared, shy personality in private areas. He may not show it, but he is truly scared of the situation he was put into.. Also uh, Trophy hates him (maybe).

Cross replaces Yin-Yang. Shockingly, the duo were separated before death.. which would explain why Yang's ghost is missing. Cross is a kind, religious girl who sometimes gets manipulated by a 'demonic presence'. Some of the contestants don't like her because they think she's going to force them into her religion.. which she doesn't. It's dumb, and she isn't like her parents! One has to wonder what this demonic presences goal is at the end of the day? And also where the heck Yang went.

[homunculus-argument]

Been on somewhat of a spin about the subject recently but unapologetically continuing nonetheless. Anyway someone said that your love language is just what you lacked growing up. I was already grown when this happened, but back when I was working at the factory and still living at home, my sister (also an adult, also living at home, ~can't work~ because of the same mental illness that I had but hers was ~valid~ because her coping mechanisms were cuter than mine and I was obviously just being gross for no reason) wanted to play the piano and sing while I was sleeping.

My sister is semi-classically trained in singing. She could have gone pro or at least performed opera on stage had she pursued it. She's not bad with the piano, either, she's actually very pleasant to listen to, but I just want to stress that when she's singing in the living room, you can hear her from the street. Technical vocal skills required for being clearly audible over an entire opera house orchestra. That shit doesn't break glass but it sure can feel like it can shatter your ear drums. And she wasn't even singing opera, but blasting disney tunes, at the very reasonable time of 2 pm.

I was working night shift and had clocked out from work at 6 am, had almost fallen asleep at the wheel while driving home, and had still not managed to get to sleep before 9 or 10 am. And I was not entirely happy about having my sleep interrupted after 4-5 hours by Part Of Your World. My sister, insulted by this, argued that she lives here, too, and I can't demand that everyone should keep quiet during the day just because not fucking letting someone sleep is considered an act of torture and you are literally not allowed to treat prisoners of war that poorly.

Our mother, seeing that her grown-ass-adult-children are fighting again, opted to do as she always would, gently and calmly explaining to me that I can't just take the whole household hostage like that by demanding them to have any respect for me having actual physical needs that I will physically die if I'm not allowed to fulfill.

I woke up this morning at 5:47 am. My boyfriend was up. He hadn't drawn the curtains, he was quietly making himself breakfast, getting dressed and rustling about with only the dim bubble of light from his desk lamp. Because I was sleeping and he wanted to let me sleep.

[purpdrawsthings]

How's life being... Well, like that? Are you two being treated at least semi-decently? You're not being used as punching bags for Mr. Puzzles's emotions, right? Right?

SMG4 : Oh! It's... Not bad actually... Aside from having such terribly planned deadlines and overworking because Mr. Puzzles always gets ideas from... Who even knows who, to the point you even question your own mental stability... It's decent I guess. This is better than what we expected...

SMG3 : As for that semi-decently thing... I guess you could say it's like... Decent? It's like a normal worker and boss relationship but worser? He is a decent but a bad boss at the same time, moreee on the bad side cuz he's him. Also, we are not used as punching bags for Mr. Puzzles emotion. He does let it out sometimes but whenever it's in front of us he would make that crazy face for a second then go back into his office and scream so loud that everyone could hear it. He really thinks we wouldn't notice.

SMG4 : Huh, speaking of decent things, I actually got this "Best Writer #1" mug from him a few months ago because I was doing a good job as a lead script writer. I'd never knew he gave gifts.

SMG3 : And here I was thinking where the hell you even got that.

SMG4 : It's my emotional support mug by the way.

SMG3 : What.

PS : Yes I'm adding context to my older posts so people would actually understand.

Context : They live in actually pretty stable and decent environment. Think of it as a movie/office studio or whatever. Butttt due to them being kinda clumsy and very tired, the place got a bit dirty. Still nice either way. Though, it isn't nice that they don't get fresh air and are always stuck in there for eternity.

As for how Puzzles treats them, I would have to say kinda bossy. He always gives them work and well, other stuff. Like editing videos late. Buttt when they get a little sick, he let's them rest. And by rest I mean only for a day and nothing more than that. He wants to keep his movies coming out as consistent as possible. The reason why he acts like this is because all his time of making low quality films, he was just making them alone with nobody tbh. That's why he manages them so poorly

And no, Puzzles does not use them as punching bugs. He actually doesn't even use violence. He just shouts and gets way too frustrated. If he gets a little stressed, he would just go in his office and scream to let his stress all out. Great way of coping Puzzles =D

As for the last part, that was just a funny last part I just wanted to add because I thought it would be fun. I decided that if an employee [ basically one of the crew ] did a great job, he would reward them. In his case, 4 got three mugs with messages that were way too relatable to him =]

[peacekeeperangel]

The CRK Pirate OC Challenge!

Hello everyone! So I've set up a little list of prompts for writing/drawing for all these Pirates I've been seeing wandering across my field as of late. But I'm going to make it a little more interesting.

If possible please either pick up four Six-Sided dice or use this dice generator and roll out a random number- that number will be your prompt! Cause pirates live on chance y'see?

If you take this challenge please do not read your options before you roll, but if you are uncomfortable with the result do go ahead and re-roll. Thank you and I hope you enjoy these prompts

1. Lunch! Your crew is having a meal in the ship’s mess. Do they behave themselves? What are they eating? BONUS: you show either the Cooking process or the cleanup

2. Dead End Race- your oc is sailing in competition with other oc pirate crews! (Bonus: What is the prize at the end?)

3. Your Crew have somehow made it to the Vanilla Kingdom! Costume swap for the win? (Note: If you don’t follow the CRK game/lore feel free to re-roll)

4. Soon May the Wellerman Come~ pick an appropriately sea-themed song for this prompt!

5. UNO REVERSO! Your OC has done a complete 180! What do they look/act like now?

6. Someone on the Crew has done a Naughty. How does your OC punish their sailor? 7. Sea Monster Attack! It’s up to your OC’s crew to save their ship. How does it go?

8. Your OC has gotten sick. Who looks after them and do they behave as a patient? BONUS: How’d they get sick anyway?

9. Your Crew have somehow made it to the Hollyberry Kingdom! Costume Swap for the win? (Note: if you don’t follow the CRK game/lore feel free to re-roll) 10. Someone needs to look after the Cannons. Does it go well or does it go poorly? 11. Bananas and Coconuts. No I will not explain further, your OC must deal with Bananas and Coconuts.

12. Your OC encounters a pool of water that turns everything it touches into solid gold. How did they discover it and how do they deal with it? 13. Your OC encounters a very snooty treacherous noble who has your OC dead to rights. How does your character Jack Sparrow their way out of this one?

14. Draw your OC as a human/meme. If you’re doing this as a writing challenge then you must write a story with as many dad jokes as possible!

15. Drinking Contest! Team up with a friend and have your OC’s in a drinking competition! Decide the winner by rolling a six-sided die, the winner will be whoever rolls higher! (Note: if you’re too nervous to ask anyone, please re-roll)

16. Your OC got into a bind and now must use their Charisma to escape. Are they successful or cringey?

17. Your Crew have somehow made it to the Dark Cacao Kingdom! Costume Change FTW? (Note: if you do not follow the CRK game/lore feel free to roll for a new prompt!)

18. Things are getting Lovecraftian around here. How does your OC cope with the squishy horribleness of it all?

19. A Captain must go down with their ship. Depict the last stand of your OC

20. Mutiny on board! What does your OC do? 21. Your Crew has Made it to the Golden Cheese Kingdom! Costume change for the win? (Note: if you don’t follow CRK game/lore feel free to re-roll)

22. GIANT BOULDER! AKA, your OC’s Indiana Jones moment. How do they handle it?

23. Depict your OC’s proudest moment.

24. Time for bed. Depict your OC sleeping (Bonus: Make it Wholesome/spicy as you see fit) EDIT BONUS: If you have Completed all 24 Prompts you must have the dreaded CABIN FEVER! Draw/write your OC concequences suffering Cabin Fever

[cloudsbrainpopped]

What’s an unpopular opinion you have about clh? 👀

I could go for such low hanging fruit here and talk about Ramon and how much of a pedestal he’s put on within the fandom without actual analysis featuring source material references, and consistently going for the ‘Fanon Shadow The Hedgehog’ effect and how there’s only a handful of scenes that are discussed consistently and many of them are kinda irrelevant in the long run (ie… cow hooker. this is mainly about that. I mean it’s funny but it’s confusing how that’s considered important when there’s more to extrapolate from. And frankly… why not? We all have that one character or something that was handled so poorly and/or should not exist and I’ve seen many an essay about characters just scrolling through the tag and all of them have at least had something to think about.) (Also speaking of him and essays before my best friend raises her brow at this topic she is exempt from this because she’s actively done the research and does in fact get him out of this loop of the same three scenes whenever they ramble about him so. They’re excused.)

But if you want something kind of scathing I feel like Sarah’s breakdown is much more justifiable than people give it credit. Yes it’s ‘long’ (and it should be <3) and introduces so much lore very quickly in a way that was definitely impacted by a short runtime but. I don’t care. It does its job so damn well and it’s obvious as to what it says really, she’s literally a victim of the system herself and isn’t the spawn of Satan , she was just built up by propaganda (something that the fandom doesn’t tend to point fingers at Ramon for but uh. He was the messenger. I know he was forced to or whatever and also a victim of Eden because they literally saved his life when he nothing (and still went on to really despise everything except believing he was doing the right thing for the children when he literally made a dictator. I know he’s not exactly aware of that but! Hi, why do we not talk about that. Scared of admitting that your precious emo guy who could do no wrong is Literally a major contributing factor to things wrong? Or is it a dislike for Sarah for either a reason that could be argued against or is just reflective of some shitty views that you need to unpack? (also. this is becoming such a tangent but Dolph is right there, he has everything Ramon has; shitty coping skills, a gun, ‘sex appeal’, I mean I don’t get it, not into men as we’ve established but I understand it significantly more. Like he has all the makings of that character archetype so… why is it not okay when it’s him yknow? Like I know there’s so much more to both of them than that but they do often get boiled down to those specific traits and I really do wonder why it’s not okay when Dolph does it. It’s probably horrible views you need to unpack again I’ll be real. I could write an essay but I can’t lie I just woke up. Maybe one day?) Anyways back to the point, Sarah’s crash out was very well deserved in my opinion and I know the common takeaway is that she knows what’s happening but. No she does not, the defense was that she was only a child, which whilst being true is not full clarity. Full clarity would probably involve a further breakdown, not moving 5D chess pieces to create what ever she believes is the correct future because it’s everyone else around her who’s corrupt, are her methods fucked up? Yes. Is the intention fucked up… I really, I really doubt that but that goes into headcanon territory and not what we’re shown I’ll put a pin in that.

Also friendly reminder that Sarah literally hasn’t killed anyone on screen aside from Cody, that one member of Dedsec who I don’t particularly know (I have not played Watchdogs yet and it’s… pretty low priority for me at the moment due to college work and everything I’m playing for fun and things I’ve gotten heavily into via CLH sorry :() and Dolph(?) (we still don’t really know and technically he took himself out.), I know she’s the reason for multiple imprisonments, tortures and probable deaths but here’s the thing. (Also if she had more time she would have killed more people but shush I’m making a point) Jade, technically not her fault and she was… clearly dead after being shot by Pagan Min (which is ridiculous if you ask me. Oh right. The guys can survive explosions, the guys need to be rammed with lasers and countless bullets or have their brains severely damaged and yet Jade can’t survive one shot… ngl we’ve said it before but wow we do not like women in this household clearly 💀) and the bomb only went off because Dolph asked (and I have analysed all of the scenes post Jade’s death still related to Sarah and 😭😭😭 that’s also an entire essay topic but oh my god I love how that’s the only death she genuinely shows some kind of emotion over other than Sam because he was present this time 💀 also another essay topic but I need to get through more of SC first so I can create that argument in depth because that could be summed up quick but it’d do everyone involved a disservice and that was not a knock on Sam at all I like him, it’s just that the role reversal and lore comparisons go hard I think.) Uh. Pey’J got shot up by the police (as he should but not for the reason they used.) and Bullfrog nearly being executed had nothing to do with her. So whilst yeah, she could have absolutely killed them herself she didn’t, most likely because at the end of the day they were good assets.

On a more light-hearted note: Bullfrog is not ‘hot’, nor is he cute in the way I commonly see him being utilised. He’s adorable, sure, but not in this soft, almost uwu-ification way (I am never writing that again ew) by way of taking his entire identity as an Assassin away from him. Guys. He kills people. He is at least older than 40 years old (Wastelanders War. Which also begs the question of hybrid growth and age but that’s a question that’ll literally never really be answered in a canon capacity by much) he’s not a child. He is polite and respectful explicitly because that falls in line with the creed itself. (I’m not the lore expert on AC but a part of being an Assassin is in the way they carry themselves outside of a murderous context. He’s just a guy dedicated to his job who just so happens to be the most jovial person around yknow.

I’m aware that fandom flanderisation is going to happen to everyone to varying degrees it’s just very interesting in the way it happens because honestly I don’t think these should be majorly unpopular but then again. Interpretation is one hell of a thing.

[pondhue]

some fear no mort thoughts 💭

during the ice cream shop scene where morty's projections of rick and diane are having their 'argument', to me it implied that deep down, morty believes that rick didn't deserve diane? like deep down he wishes he would actually talk to his grandma and ask her "why him? look at who he is/what he's capable of becoming"

diane sounds so resentful, fed up, and even disgusted (like she said). she's so squicked out by him. and by those words coming out of diane, i think morty was also telling rick (he didn't know he wasn't real at the time of course) that rick didn't deserve morty, either

rick obviously has spoken about how replaceable nearly everybody in his life is except for diane. of course this was a (very destructive) coping mechanism, but even so it doesn't excuse how poorly he has treated morty (and nearly everyone else in his life) for a majority of the time they've known each other. and if you have followed the show you know that morty is absolutely right to feel that way. like yes now rick is changing, but that's only been recently. morty's still sorting through his own resentments, fears and regrets with his grandpa. he doesn't have other people in his life really, and rick is the closest thing he has to a friend/best friend/parental figure (that's 'present') but rick also been a source of his trauma and torment for so long. their codependency has done a number on morty, and after years of repressing his emotions he's slowly accepting and digesting that. once morty chooses to figure out what was going on himself by himself, rick is sidelined instead of him (in his pov of the projections) morty decides to take matters into his own hands, to regain control of the situation, with no influence from rick either. and through this he learns to accept himself for who he is, and comes out with a better understanding of not only his place in rick's (and his family's life), but his own place in morty's life, his life. his security with himself. he's accepted that he was afraid of being responsible for his grandpa's sadness, but rick's sadness is his alone, not morty's. and morty can only do so much, and that's fine.

he's not his trauma. he's not replaceable, or irreplaceable, he's just morty, and that's okay. rick and just rick and that's okay. even if rick wasn't with him during his journey, he was okay with it in the end. in accepting rick for who he is, morty accepted himself for who morty is. now morty isn't sticking around because he feels like he has to or is forced to, he's doing it by choice, and his alone.

this is just me thinking out loud/my interpretations of the messaging of the ep and how the clear shift in rick and morty's dynamic (and morty's feelings/thoughts on it) was portrayed (which i really liked). this ep was so layered and complex and i'm just glad that we're reaching morty's arc of him finding his own person and focusing on his own feelings instead of someone else's.

[rayneisnotwet]

Well that isn’t what we expected is it? Trump winning the white house. In the salient words of Miss Juicy, ”What the hell we gon’ do now?”. Everyone has a different idea. “We need to engage in our communities!” , “I’m moving to Canada!”, “I’m doing c*ke in the bathroom!” some cry out. Others are disengaging from the zeitgeist, and with it, apparently, social media. But when people announce these reactionary ideas of theirs, it feels more like a child yelling that they hate their parents because they got their Xbox taken away than a serious strategy to avoid oppression. I get it though, everyone just wants a change now. The hottest new accessory is going to be a poorly thought out style choice. Short haircuts with clumsy dye jobs and a trashcan full of “I’m with her!” memorabilia is how everyone dealt with this last time. But what is really the answer to this feeling?

Well, you’re all in luck. Because as a Trans drag queen in the midwest with an enhanced ID, I have the insight into all these coping methods. I write this while smoking a skinny cig. sitting on a picnic table in my childhood backyard, on property that’s interest rates doubled so fiercely it convinced both my parents to vote Trump and pushed me farther left than I thought was possible before I just detransitioned into Mao Zedong. I doubt that social media breaks announced via Instagram story or a vote for a failed businessman turned reality star or a jar of Manic Panic Amazon Primed to your door is going to make any of us feel any better, or bring the dollar menu at the drive thru back.

The Canadian immigration website crashed in 2016 after Trump won the first time, and to be fair I can see why. Everytime I visit, a feeling of relaxation washes over me. Not just because it's where my boyfriend lives, but because it's a genuinely very easy place. People stroll instead of scurrying through the streets. Even in Toronto, the largest city. The food is fantastic as well. The cosmopolitan-and just like that, I started ordering them-attitudes lead to a huge mix of cultures that seem to coexist in a much more mixed fashion than the notoriously segregated US. Sure, there’s the french-speaking Quebecois, but every country has annoying people. The friendliness is no joke either (as long as it’s not a service worker), people ask you how you are as a question, rather than a greeting.

Canada isn’t a liberal wonderland though, despite what Justin Trudeau might lead you to believe. During my Toronto visit, I checked out Dundas Square, the canuck equivalent of Times Square (there was no one in knockoff Elmo costumes). As soon as we stepped out of the subway station it was awash with the sounds of protest. A First Nations demonstration played out, with people chanting “LET HIM GO!” while drum beats punctuated the cries. A woman sat on a speaker holding a microphone, telling the heart-wrenching story of her son who had been shot during a wellness check by police in the midst of a mental health crisis. I wanted to support and join in the chanting, but my boyfriend advised not to, warning me the TPS were just as brutal as any American police department, especially to Trans women. Moments later a man, middle aged, bald, and white, started hitting on me aggressively. My boyfriend immediately shielded me from him, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer and made a scene. Another man chimed in, “That's not a ‘She’ bro!”

We got out of there fast.

So while Canada may have a more charismatic leader on the world stage, and policies that protect its vulnerable communities slightly better than the US, it’s not a utopia for Queers. Least of all Trans women or Two Spirit people. The truth is there is no such thing as safe spaces. As long as tribalism is baked into our monkey brains, we will find something to point at and feel superior about over someone else. I’ve actually felt more disrespected in some majority white gay male bars than I have in dives in my hometown of bumfuck Jackson playing the UofM game on their tv. A word of advice to The Dolls, don’t underestimate the cruelty of men. 🚬 or not. That isn’t to say I hadn't found community in a lot of Queer parties.

I had started my post-election-pity-party at Necto in Ann Arbor for the finale of the UofM-student-powered drag competition reality show Runway Rumble. Michigan’s best and brightest new talent (and others) battling it out for the belt. Those of us that had been eliminated were doing a group number with the finalists and accepting awards. The energy was electric, people were excited to see each other and drinks were flowing. I can't speak for coke in the bathroom because I was in an outfit that didn't allow for bathroom visits, and frankly a bank account that didn't allow for coke.

With all the excitement and nerves in the air about who would clinch the win, it felt like our community’s political turmoil was dead and gone. Although, some people were drinking so much I thought they might go the same way.

Spoiler alert, Belladonna won the competition, and for me that was such a relief. To see a Trans woman win a competition like this and receive the recognition she so rightly deserved as a fixture in the Detroit scene was vindicating as a Doll Supremacist. Shoutout to you diva, you did that shit. Big shoutout also to one of the judges, Pineapple Honeydew, for finger-waving my look that night. I hugged Bella and joined in on the rest of the cast and crew who were inundating her with congratulations, and that's when I realized something. In this bar, on this stage, in THIS moment, Trump wasn’t president. He’ll never be president of Necto, or president of drag. This place, these people, were presidentless. This country may have elected him with the popular vote, but that didn’t matter here. His political success couldn’t take away Belladonna’s Drag excellence. Or Portia’s for creating the show. Or mine for leaving my mark on the show as Drama Diva and holder of the Golden Boot. No. Our community, its survival and ability to thrive, was entirely dependent on US, not THEM.

So yes, things will be much more difficult now. This will be a tough time for Trans kids, for immigrants, especially mexicans. A tough time for the elderly on social security, a battle for young mothers and young women trying NOT to become mothers. For blue collar workers in unions, for their families. Entire classes of people, communities, towns, families, they’ll be ripped apart. We’ve already seen how populism injected into right-wing politics can create the perfect siren’s song to attract members of our family, turning them into strangers. But at the end of the day, the days gotta end. Will we all take this lying down? Or with a smile on our faces, a tequila sunrise in one hand and our loved ones hand in the other? Our community, no, we protest and sing and dance and drink and dress up and be gay! Openly! Loudly! Until they realize we really aren’t going anywhere.

[leonsliga]

Leon Goretzka for Sports Illustrated Deutschland

-> In this Sports Illustrated interview, Leon discusses not being called up to the national team, his character, and handling high pressure situations. The new Adidas Bodycare brand ambassador also discusses his hopes for the future.

On the pitch you show strength, off the pitch you are known for your social commitment. How is it that you are so present and outspoken?

That has envolved over the course of my life, but the sense of justice has always been within me. The only thing that has changed over the course of my career is that I now have a much greater reach and more people hear my opinions.

How difficult is it to fight against adversity? Can something like this be trained or is it something you’re born with?

You have to learn to deal with it. Then you can take a clear stance—or you can just leave it be. Everyone has to decide that for themselves. But I can cope with resistance, even though some of the things that come at me these days are extreme.

How do you deal with pressure and disappointment?

Pressure is something very positive for me. I really like it. It probably helps me in my job too. When it mattered most, I was able to deliver top performances. I like a bit of pre-match jitters. That's why I'm not afraid of pressure. Disappointments are also part of it. You learn that very early on, especially in football. Losing games starts in training. But that’s why you play in a team; that's the beauty of team sports—that you can support each other. Like at FC Bayern this season, which wasn't quite as successful as we had expected and were used to. These are experiences that you can take with you and mature from.

Did it hurt you a lot not to be called up for the national team?

It was an extreme disappointment for me because I didn’t expect it. Afterwards, I gave myself a day to come to terms with the situation. The day after that, I looked at how I could rectify it. The best way to do that is to perform at your best and accept this new role.

How hopeful are you that you will be at Euro 2024?

Very.

What is your emotional world like? Do you always allow all feelings—even the negative ones?

Everyone has to find out for themselves how they deal with feelings. My recommendation would be to talk about them, but I don't always manage that either. I like to work things out on my own and let the process mature within me. I can draw strength from that.

How do you strike a balance between self-criticism and self-confidence?

Self-criticism and self-confidence are mutually dependent. Telling yourself that you are the best has nothing to do with self-confidence. You are strongest when you also know your weaknesses.

As a leader, do you always have to live up to the sometimes very high expectations?

Yes, that's the job of a footballer. We live in a fast-paced, day-to-day business. You're only ever as good as you were in the last game. In my career in club football, I've won all the major titles that you can win with a big club like FC Bayern. Nevertheless, this season I have experienced what it means to be criticized as a leader. It reminds you that you are obliged to perform week in, week out.

How do you build yourself back up again when things aren't going your way? Do you train even more then?

I don't make my training dependent on situations that I experience week after week. I have long-term training plans. But of course, the motivation to correct things when they go poorly is always there.

What role do negative fan opinions play? Should they be ignored?

You have to accept these things. Everyone has their own opinion. Of course, it would be nice if things were a bit more civilized, but unfortunately that's not the case. This doesn't just apply to football; it can happen to anyone on social media. It's extremely disappointing. We should think about how this can be regulated. I'm lucky that things don't bother me too much. But there are certainly many users who unfortunately don't get on so well with it.

The football business can be very tough. What do you wish for the future of football, especially for the players?

I don't know if I should give an honest answer to that.

We’re asking for one.

If I'm completely honest, we should stop trying to generate clicks at the expense of the players—both on social media and in reports.

Can football help people and society feel more positive?

The 2006 World Cup showed how football can galvanize our country. Germany's enthusiasm and interest in football are certainly back. As players, we can influence this huge potential if the German national team performs well.

You are an ambassador for Adidas Bodycare. What does "well-being" mean to you?

For me, "well-being" means that I have an awareness of my body. For the balance between strain and relief, but also for regeneration. Ultimately, it’s also about work-life balance.

[g0nta-g0kuhara]

Yeah idk about the student council either sorry T-T

But as for Kiyo, I think he's a great connection to both the lies/truth theme and the fiction/reality theme for like a whole lot of reasons

His talent for starters, while it's localized to be anthropology, is technically more specifically centered around folk tales. Most of his FTEs are him explaining these stories and kind of playing into the themes other anons were talking about with "lies become the truth when you believe them". A lot of his explainations have to do with the fact that folk tales are inherently tied to the reality of the people telling them. (Especially his 4th FTE, I highly reccomend that one to get a lot of this.) Folk tales and religion walk the line of fiction and reality because they are made up stories to convey the truths of life. The best example he uses is the story of Medusa, which he sites as a story about the fear of death

His murders also play into this imo because of A.) how he was found out, and B.) how he did them in the first place. A big criticism I see of him is that it was super fucking obvious who killed Tenko, and that much is true, but I think it was at least slightly intentional. Even in the trial, he relatively easily admits to Tenko's murder, while he has a whole mental breakdown before confessing to Angie's. Tenko's murder was very poorly hidden, he had the idea for a seance, he carried it out in front of everyone, he led the whole thing, everyone heard the very second Tenko died. Where with Angie, she was locked in a room, taped up to keep her from bleeding, even the way he locked the door he hid with the other effigies. (Also, to tie it into Kaede anon's argument, he used the thematic embodiment of a lie to do so.) If Kokichi couldn't pick locks, nobody would have ever found out she even died in all likelyhood. There's an additional part of the argument here if you personally interpret Kiyo's sister to be Angie's killer, but I don't, so I'll let you draw your own conclusions on that aspect

Last point before getting into uncomfortable territory, Kiyo's consistent ties to death. While Korekiyo himself says he is unafraid of death, this is not shown to be the case, at least outside of himself (which doesn't mean a whole lot as he's canonically suicidal). All his stories end up tying to death, it's implied a lot of his field work was focused around death and trying to bring his sister back to life, he developed a whole delusion because he could not properly process that she was gone. He's not afraid of dying because he is so afraid of not being with his sister, which is, in turn, a fear of death.

Going on about Kiyo's sister from now on, nothing explicit but yk

Kiyo's sister is, of course, a main focal point in this theme in terms of Kiyo's character, both in her appearance as an alter/tulpa/ghost/what have you, and how Kiyo talks about her. Going back to how she is spoken about in FTEs, it is pretty obvious to most players that this was not a healthy sibling relationship, even aside from the incest. Though not intentional, there was the constant pressure of her death looming on the horizon (see Kiyo's lies about death). He's only an anthropologist because she was. She didn't like his original uniform, so she made him a new one that she liked. He becomes so obsessed with preserving her after her death that he begins to make himself look like her, growing out his hair and wearing makeup. She loves him, but he is not her friend. This point especially, at least to me, says a lot about why Kiyo has the complex he has about her. At least through my interpretation, Kiyo's sister was the way she was because what she really wanted was human connection. She was a young girl who grew up sick, who never had friends or a boyfriend, and all she ever had was her brother. He couldn't give her what she really wanted, and now she was gone, so he copes with the idea by "sending her friends".

Even everything we know about his sister is a good example of the truth/lies theme. We only ever hear about her from Kiyo, even through his alter/tulpa/ghost/whatever. It is his interpretation of her, and he is not shown to be a very reliable narrator. She could have been much more abusive than we see her, and Kiyo's supportive voice for her is just another lie to himself to keep himself sane. Or she could have done nothing like what we assume, and Kiyo was the problem, leading her ghost to kill him the way she did. We'll never truly know which is the truth, or if Kiyo really was being 100% unbiased in his interpretation of her.

I could go on, but like. This is a lot already, sorry lmao

OHHHH I Think you had a really interesting point about Korekiyo's talent and the themes of the game... Searching for meaning through stories parallels really nicely with v3 as a whole. This is a really really good analysis of Korekiyo imo. Like, he might not be in the main group of 5 I think about when I think about characters relevant to v3's themes, but he definitely adds to it.

[doyouknowthemossinman]

After stumbling unwillingly through a lantern and experiencing life in hels for themself, Fin develops an inferiority complex so strong it sends her spiraling into a quest to prove that she's really the stronger half between her and Eight.

(Working title: i put Hallownest in minecraft)

[This has to be worth it. I have to prove myself.]

[I don't know where I am.]

Things being Fin's size for once was actually pretty disorienting. After years of coping with larger-than-life appliances and structures in her daily life, she wasn't prepared for the whiplash of finding buildings that were already bug-sized. The fall into the little world wasn't pleasant, but the cozy town in the middle of the wastes was something.

Down the well, the Elderbug had told them. All the adventurers disappeared down the well. All but one, anyway.

Below Dirtmouth, the allegedly once-sprawling kingdom was in ruins. Zombie-like husks shambled in repetitive paths, but did not seem to acknowledge Fin as they crept past. Something about the orange glow behind their dead eyes drew her near them, until someone yanked her out of the husk's grasp.

"That was close!" the pillbug exclaimed, poorly hiding his anxiety behind a laugh. The corpse shambled on as he continued pulling Fin out of its way, backward toward a large temple. "Those are husks, they're not exactly friendly! Though, now that I think about it, they didn't seem particularly keen on attacking you," he continued.

Fin took his distraction as an opportunity to free her arm from his hold. He stared at her for a moment as if trying to remember something, then seemed to snap out of his stupor. "Apologies. I'm Quirrel. What brings you all the way to this old kingdom?"

Fin didn't know how to answer. "I fell, and now I'm here. I'm... looking for a challenge, I guess."

"Ah, I've already met many adventurers who seek the Colosseum in this kingdom. I believe it's on the edge of the City of Tears. That seems to be the direction that many of them were traveling, anyway. I wish you luck in your quest!"

"And you in yours," Fin replied, giving a slight bow before Quirrel turned and became engrossed in the temple's heavy door.

This Colosseum could be their way to develop their skills beyond what was available in their home world. Beyond what was available in hels, even. (Seeing how difficult it was for a helsmet like Eight to survive in hels had shaken their own sense of capability. Eight was happy in that hellhole. Eight sold jewelry to get buy instead of anything useful like weaponry or armor. Eight had friends. My hels is happy, and I'm not.)

---

They met another bug searching for the Colosseum while in the aptly-named City of Tears. Though his hood was soaked, the water rolled right off his carapace as he spoke, full of bravado. Fin felt more jealous of his waterproof-ness more than anything else. "It's near here, I'm sure of it. Somewhere between the City and the Kingdom's edge. I don't need your help to find it." He drew himself up slightly and left, headed in the direction that it planned to go.

Fin watched him go and scoffed to themself. An ego that large wouldn't get him far, even if he did find the Colosseum.

[Your ego won't get you far, either.]

Something told them not to follow after him, a nagging feeling in its chest that pulled them in the opposite direction. They'd already seen and considered the statue of the so-called Hollow Knight, but followed the pull anyway, all the way to the other side of the city.

Good thing, because they found a fellow nailsmith (for swords were nails in this kingdom, however odd the terminology felt on their tongue) who offered to sell them some armor for a few hundred geo.

"This is very discounted compared to what I would regularly charge," the Nailsmith informed her. "Though I suppose there aren't many of you left to buy my wares anyway."

Fin couldn't think of anything to say. Everyone in this kingdom was on the edge of a metaphorical and literal precipice, living post-apocalypse with no hope and no way out but to leave and brave the wastes. Even Fin couldn't get out the way it came in, not with their torn wing. They simply bowed their head in thanks, donned their new helm, and retraced their steps.

There was a small, peculiar bug at the foot of the statue when Fin returned. It stared up at the Hollow Knight blankly, clearly not capable of expression behind its mask. It turned its gaze on Fin as they approached and flinched backward.

The two stared at each other for a long moment before Fin gestured toward the vacant buildings in front of them. "Care to speak with me somewhere drier?" The little bug nodded and followed behind Fin.

"I'm looking for the Colosseum," Fin stated, taking off their helmet and shaking as much water off it as she could. "Do you know where it's at?"

A map appeared in the bug's hands, and it was soon spreading it out on a nearby table and pointing to a doorway near a large lift that connected the City to the Crossroads. It drew one little pointer finger down a long hallway, ending in a drawing of what could only be the gaping maw of a large, dead, grub-like bug.

[Oh, perfect. A Colosseum built into a corpse. I'm sure it smells great.]

Fin did their best to bite down the complaint in front of their guide. "Thank you, fair Knight. I wish you well on your journey."

The bug seemed to try to blink at them, but their mask remained stiff and unchanged despite the welcoming air about them. Fin placed their helm back over their head and gripped the hilt of their nail as they walked. Their resolve wavered.

[I have to do this. I love doing this! I haven't fought in a long time. This is what makes me happy. I...

I just want to be happy again.]

---

The lift didn't stop at the ledge that Fin needed it to, and pulling the lever to send it upward shut the doors on them. Without flight, they opted to climb atop the lift itself (who put spikes on the roof of a lift??) and scale the chain that pulled it upward. Their forewings and cloak helped it glide to the platform, and it was only a straight shot to the Colosseum from there.

It was indeed located in the corpse of a massive bug.

"Oho, another warrior enters!" A tiny pillbug hung upside down, bound in chains, greeted Fin as she entered. The sounds of battle could be heard further down the hall, and several corpses hung similarly behind the pillbug. "Ours is the final destination for all seeking trials of intense and deadly combat," he continued.

"How do I enter the tournament?" Fin asked plainly.

"All one has to do is place their mark upon their Trial Board of choice and lo! The arena's gate will open," the bug answered. "There's a small fee attached to each trial, but I'm sure as skilled a combatant as yourself will have accrued a wealth of Geo.

"Now, before you draw your nail and rush eagerly to battle, I'll offer one quick word of advice. There's a warriors' pit just below here, where others like yourself await their own trials. I'd strongly advise using it to rest up before placing your mark." Fin nodded in response.

"Oh, and have no doubt, I'm a fearsome warrior myself. Don't go judging me by my size, or my current… errr… constraint. The Colosseum beckons us both! I'll be back in battle soon."

[Mhm. Sure.]

They left 100 geo with the bug and made their way to the pit. It was filled with snoring warriors, all large and clad in six-eyed armor much sturdier than the crafted shell that Fin wore. Another twinge of doubt twisted in their chest. Their eyes landed on the ant from long before, hunched over on the lone bench and eyes lidded in something like focus.

"Oh, soft thing. You've made it as well. I hope you're prepared, because if you last long enough, you'll face me, and then..." he trailed off meaningfully.

[I'll show you soft.]

The Trial of the Warrior was easy enough. The spike floor was unexpected, and the floating platforms tested her balance but Fin made it through without much fuss.

After the Trial of the Conqueror, they felt like they were still covered in the sickly orange venom that all these bugs seemed to carry with them. Poking around the warriors' pit, Fin found a hot spring that seemed to heal their wounds and ease their mind without feeling like they were getting dunked in water. She lingered in the spring, letting it work whatever magic it was.

The two trials had been... exhilarating. But fun? Would they call the trials fun? Would anyone be jealous of their position at this rate?

There was only one trial left. They had to finish this.

They paused when they read the name of the final trial on the board.

The Trial of the Fool.

Fin certainly felt like a fool toward the end of the trial. She was exhausted. This wasn't fun anymore. Was it ever to begin with? What were they trying to prove anymore? They were just jealous of Eight's happiness, that's what sent them down this awful path. Who were they, to stoop to jealousy? Of a helsmet, no less? How pathetic.

There was a break in the waves, for a single, brief, beautiful moment. No more, no more, I want to go home, I'm so tired. I'm such a fool.

The ground shook.

The gate opened.

A little roach on the back of a large Beast entered the arena to the fanfare of the crowd. Fin had almost forgotten the crowd was there, so lost in the battle.

The God Tamer, she was called.

She leapt off her beast and readied her weapon, and Fin did the same, despite the exhaustion weighing on its limbs. Dodging the beast's rolls and acid spitting was easy enough, but the God Tamer fought with more precision, coordinating her strikes with her steed's.

If they died here, their corpse would be thrown out the back with the others and fall, down into the windy wasteland of the kingdom's edge, until it was either reanimated by the Infection or dissolved in a pit of acid.

Lighten up, they thought, and it sounded like Eight's voice. You're so dour! Then she'd say something like, Come sit with me, I can't finish this muffin by myself and I won't have any more customers until after the battle.

Something like yearning flared in Fin's chest, growing and eating them alive from the inside. She just wanted to be safe and happy now. Where was all of this getting her? They parried another blow from the God Tamer and dodged to the side of the Beast.

The glow of the lanterns caught their eye. Something like yearning. Something like hope.

These lanterns were not made the same as the ones in the Overworld, or even the ones in Hels, but it could work. With enough determination, pure want and will, perhaps Fin could go home.

They hesitated only a moment, gathering themself, before throwing their body at one of the lanterns in the arena.

She barely heard the crowd gasp before they were sailing over Eight's counter and into the middle of the street. A lizard-shaped helsmet stopped short, momentarily blocking anyone from stepping on them, and then Eight was speaking and helping them up and around the back of their normal-sized stall. Back in the world of giants. Back in Hels.

Fin could tell that Eight wanted details, wanted to have a long talk, and Fin wanted to have that talk now too, but they were still exhausted from the last trial. For now, she accepted care from her helsmet, closed her eyes, and breathed.

[wordiestwyrm]

Okay Google, How Do I Cope with an NDA About Nothing Relevant at All?

this is a continuation of that one story i posted, like, the day before yesterday or so about adam and jeremiah and it's from a third party's perspective :D :D :D 2908 words !! enjoy <3

cws: office work, mentioned transphobia, alluded to Severe Mental Health Issues, coming in possession of the Juiciest Gossip that you can under no circumstance share, allusions to kidnapping but only if you squint, possibly (probably) very ignorantly written muslim POV character (tell me if i did an offensive please, i have random bits of knowledge all over the place but i admittedly mostly sourced this post while writing so. by far, not perfect research 👍)

Someway, somehow, despite QaTRO being one of the queerest organisations in Portugal if not worldwide and therefore full of all flavours of people, no one in the ranks is more mouthwateringly intriguing than their boss.

All the tabloids huddle routinely at the entrance to QaTRO's offices in vain hopes to catch so much as a glimmer of the man, to say nothing of the perpetually snooping smear campaigners. Everyone knows of his fashion sense, yet no one knows where he gets his clothes; everyone knows he has transitioned and had most of the available surgeries, but not one photo of him from before has been found; everyone knows he's wonderfully wicked in bed, but anything about his personal relationships is barely speculation at best; everyone knows Adam Pereira the myth, but all anyone knows about Adam Pereira the man is that he's supposedly Brazilian-American and, if you catch him in a conversation, funny and sweet to cavities.

Maryam would love to say it's different inside the offices, but the only additional fact they're all privy to is that Adam very specifically refuses to finish renovating one of the bathrooms on the third floor specifically so he can hide there whenever someone asks him too many questions about his past or personal life. The only different thing is, really, that they can come to him with the fruits of their 'make up the wildest things about Adam Pereira' improv game and get entirely unhelpful feedback. Even as his secretary, Maryam doesn't even know what city he lives in after almost two years of constant direct contact! 

All she knows of that is, he's somewhere not too far from Lisbon since he says he has an hour and a half commute to work. Like any other non-demonstrable fact about the boss, though, it's as good a piece of information as that theory he's secretly a cis mafioso from Florida who skinned his arm to mimic a phallo skin graft to... She's not sure what exactly, but the sheer novelty of an anti-transvestigation has stapled the thought into her head permanently.

Either way, the point is, no one knows anything at all about Adam Pereira, and the employees at QaTRO have long since stopped asking because the awkward, sweet guy they're working for will find any possible weasel route out of answering. In worst case scenarios, he’ll have a panic attack about it in his personal, dusty, paint-fumed bathroom stall, as well; running damage control in such cases is pretty much the only time his secretiveness affects Maryam poorly, so. She just enforces his boundaries for him, no big deal.

Which is why, when he shows up a day early after one of his semi-annual missionary trips for threatening tea with the governor of Florida- see also, mafioso rumours- she expects him to spend a customary week home, before getting back to the office and never speaking of why he changed his schedule. Alhamdulillah, the improv game has been getting a bit stale. Only so wild you can go before even discussing evidence for 'he's secretly the avatar of some black hole millions of light years away' loses its punch.

What she's not expecting is her work phone buzzing with Adam's number a good four days before he's due back at the office at the very tail end of her shift.

Staring at the contact name, Maryam contemplates if she should have some kind of emergency service on hot dial just in case the ocean's about to burst alight. Her phone continues to vibrate out the melody- soundless, since it has to be semi-professional- of a song about suspicious businessmen. Well, no use delaying; she swipes to answer.

"Maryam! Hello, my beautiful and most valued assistant. Are you available for a short chat?" Voice spiking through the speakers, Adam asks through the bustle of whatever public place he's apparently in.

Maryam raises her brows. "Subhan Allah, Adam? Is everything okay? Can you cough twice if you're possessed?" Smiling, she leans back in her gamer-grade office chair and crosses her legs. Doesn't sound like her boss is in any kind of immediate danger, at least; her shoulders untense just enough for her to notice how tight they got.

"Oh- no, no, everything's fine. I'm just- you have two sugar babies, right? I need gift ideas."

... What?

"For a sugar baby?" To check if she perhaps misheard, Maryam rises from her chair. No one should come into her and boss’ office without knocking, but better to lock the door just in case.

"Not- quite? I just have someone who I need to know with a hundred percent certainty that money is not an issue. Anything expensive will probably do, but I don't know how personal to make it? Or is it better to just hand over hard cash? I mean, I'm planning to open him a bank account soon anyway. It won't count as a gift if I think it's a necessity though, right??" Rattling off, Adam's voice drowns out all the background bustle, "Shit, it totally doesn't, getting a haircut and new clothes didn't convince him. What do I do then?-"

"Woah, deep breath, bossman. It's okay, this really isn't that straight forward but we'll figure it out, In Shaa Allah." Maryam interrupts, tone as comforting as she can get it, and drops on the impossibly cosy sofa at one of the office walls, "In my experience, stuff that they wanted to get for a while but never had specifically enough money for tends to get it across clearest, but what that is really depends on the person. For Simon, it was Faber-Castell pencils, but that'd never work for Ieva, you know? I know you're a private guy, so I won't pry, but I figure you're diligent enough to figure it out." She smiles, "Whoever's in your orbit is lucky to have you, Subhan Allah."

Silence. Not even sounds of a crowd peek through from the other end of the line; did Adam hang up? He very rarely does without a polite goodbye.

Just as Maryam lifts the phone from her ear to check if the call's still on, Adam speaks again. "Is the printer on?"

Oh? Where's he leading with this? Straightening up, Maryam looks over to the printer shrine, and satisfied to find the little light on, falls back into the cushions. "Yeah? What'd you need, bossman?"

"I need you to type out and print a one way NDA for yourself with specifications as I dictate. It's okay if not, but I'll be hanging up then. I don't mean to bribe you, I promise this isn't any kind of important information-"

"Please don't worry about bribery, Astaghfirullah, you know I'd get myself blackmailed for gossip." Already at the desk, Maryam opens a text document, "Ready when you are!"

Silence, again. Whatever Adam wants to tell her must be pressing on him. Her fingers twitch over the keyboard, and she shifts her hold on her phone to her shoulder.

"Use the typical template, fill it out with your name as the recipient and mine as the discloser. Have clause three saying that you may not share the information with anyone under any circumstances other than if your silence will cause direct, certain harm, and edit clause six to include that you may not create any notes or recordings of any of the confidential information I disclose, paraphrased or otherwise. The term is indefinite, oh, and clause four point a, specify it does not apply to commenting on any otherwise leaked information." Adam breathes, "You can back out whenever until the thing is signed, of course."

Snorting, Maryam checks over her work- she's efficient and Adam knows it- and presses the print button. "Too late, I've got a pen out, Bismillah. Who do you want me to forge into our witness?" Easy, she rolls over to the printer in her chair, signing herself and forging Adam in right against a clipboard that lives at the printer shrine for this exact purpose.

"Go catch someone in the hallway, I'd like this to be a somewhat credible document." Sounding slumped, Adam breathes.

Not one to need being told twice, Maryam bolts for the door, unlocks and waves down a random group of employees passing by- presumably about to leave- with the clipboard. "Hey! Anyone want to be legally liable? Or, well, make me legally liable. Boss' having me sign an NDA."

The employees- all from lower tiers, so generally not overly familiar to her- look between each other before one of them shrugs, trots over and signs where Maryam points them to. Bowing her gratitude, she twirls back into the office and locks again. "Done and dusted, what's the confidential information?"

Even through phone speakers, she hears Adam sigh.

"I- have a new roommate. He is literally the most perfect thing on planet Earth. How the fuck am I meant to cope?" Trailing low into a pathetic whine by the final sentence, Adam bemoans, and oh, that sounds like a crush. Holy shit life's unfair, Maryam can't even breathe a word about this- anyway.

"Hm, well it sounds like you want to take care of him. What's the issue with just spoiling the guy?" Back on the sofa, she pulls off her Mary Janes, folding her legs under her.

"We're not, like, a thing, Maryam. He spooks so easily at too much touch, not to mention his metric of 'too much' is so different- I feel sick, I'm gonna dieeee." No doubt draping over something like the hopeless slinky he is, Adam groans. He doesn't ask if Maryam's ever felt this way, doesn't divert attention; he wanted to share, clearly, but it's still a little weird that he’s doing this at all.

Chest tight, Maryam worries her lip as she smiles. "Wanna tell me more about what he might like as a gift, then? Brainstorm solutions, In Shaa Allah, figure out what your boy-toy to be will go crazy for."

A moment of silence. "He really likes that blindfold Besouro gifted me. Blindfolds like that aren't very expensive, though, and mine works just fine. Would he like some kind of kit for making stained glass windows?? He said he was always sad his church didn't have one of those and loved to make fake ones with plastic and sharpies- that's probably something to ask, god. Maryaaaam, how do you do this?"

Oh no, Adam's down bad. It doesn't even sound like he's trying to change topics, just- genuinely in need. Maryam shifts, biting at her barely contained grin. "Well, okay, what's his vibe? Maybe you can find something by thinking less specific things, you know, open your mind." Maybe this is a bit less of a helpful question and more of her trying to suss out as much as she can in what will probably be one single conversation where she gets to learn something her boss deems 'personal', Astaghfirullah.

Man, will she be the only one in the whole wide world who actually knows his type-

"He's... He's divine, Maryam. So effortlessly cool, it's like he doesn't need to think even for a second for witty comebacks, and so caring, and he hates overly sweet things but I bet if I took a bite I'd taste honey. He doesn't like hugs, but he pushed past it to comfort me and I nearly had a heart attack. And I can't do anything! Because- because I'm dumb. This situation is dumb. Man, if I didn't act so impulsively- sorry, I, it's-"

"Breathe, Adam." Straightening, Maryam soothes before her boss can choke on his own throat, "I don't know what your situation is, and I won't push, but I'm sure you can handle it. If he's really as lovely as you say, I'm sure he'll work with you and not against you, yeah? It sounds like he cares about you, you know." She smiles, sweet, hoping it carries through the speakers.

This is the most vulnerable Adam's ever been with her. Tight in the chest, she pulls her legs up and squeezes herself into a hug. Really, the worst thing about Adam Pereira's secretive nature is, he loves to listen, it's almost harder not to tell him things. Try to share his burdens, though, try to give him the kind attention he blankets everyone with so easily, and he's gone.

... Huh. She didn't realise him pushing her away hurt, until now-

"I- there's a power imbalance. He can't- I don't want to force him." Choked, Adam says.

Breathing, Maryam wets her lips and eases up her muscles. "Hey, I'm not forcing my sugar babies even if I'm much more influential than them, right? It's no big deal if you both understand-"

"None of your sugar babies were homeless before you took them in, Maryam." Adam snaps.

Oh. Oh, that's-

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to- it's fine, it's fine. I just, I won't be making any moves, I've been good at it. Some kind of completely not-suggestive gift that he could sell for a shit load of money if he ever needs to escape, and- and that's fine. It's- sorry, I'll-"

"Adam-" What does Maryam say, he'll probably hang up soon, "it's okay. It sounds like you love him, that's- that's hard. I don't know what exactly you did, but- I know you won't hurt him, because you care, a lot, and you're good at it. Just- please come to me to let it out every once in a while, okay? It hurts to be shut out of your life like that, to never be able to give back- I mean, it's fine, if you just talk to your therapist about it it's fine, you don't have to- you don't have to push yourself. Just, I'm here for you, okay?"

Silence. Did he hang up and she not notice-

Heavy, a breath crackles through the speakers. "I- I brought him here from Florida." Adam confesses, "And I... Over-exaggerated the dangers of me just, sponsoring him to help him out of poverty." Another breath, shuddering, "I don't know what it is. I've never felt this way before, but we were talking and, shit, I wanted to have him. Just for myself, close, soft, perfect. And then it was too late to back out, and I'm just- finding whatever excuse I can to throw money at him so he doesn't get trapped. And I- I'm sorry, it shouldn't be your problem."

A warmth unspools, loosening tension, through Maryam's body. "I want it to be my problem, you silly boy. We've known each other for over two years, closely for over one, you know how bad I wanted you to trust me?" She snorts, tenses, shakes her head, "Back to the topic though, you fell in love, and now you know those stupid romances don't exaggerate. You're fixing it all up, aren't you? You'll tell him the truth soon, I know you, and In Shaa Allah, you'll let him go if he wants to go. If you don't, you'll now have to deal with me knowing, and I won't be sweet about it. I promise it'll be okay, yeah? It's a bad deal, and you know well how to make the best out of those."

Silence. Adam sighs before Maryam can even get worried, the smallest groan hiding in his breath. "Shit. I'm sorry I hurt you. I-" Light, he huffs, "It never occurred to me people could be really sad that I don't share. Guess I am a silly boy, damn." Humour no-doubt forced in his voice, he exhales, long and heavy but seemingly smiling, "You're a charm, you know that, Mary?"

He's said that before. Somehow, this particular time it's like peach soufflet on Maryam's tongue, soft, warm and sweet; she's really, really very soft for people trusting her, relying on her, wanting her, isn't she? Crinkles in her eyes, she giggles. "I'm glad. And it's not that bad, I had a lot of practice with clammed up men since I was very little. What's one more to the pile?"

Whining like he did in the beginning of the call, Adam's probably all shrimpy with his posture as his smile flows through the speakers. "I'm not even ashamed, is the thing!! I'm just paranoid! Jesus Christ, this is awful." Light, he jokes.

It's so nice to have one of Maryam's best friends finally reciprocating. Allah, she may just cry.

Instead, she glances to the clock, and blinks at the time. Four eleven! Her shift's over and she'll be late to get home in time for Maghrib if she doesn't get a move on. "Mhm, well, I won't tell no one, not even the first man I ever pincered out of his clam little shell, so you're gonna be safe. Now go! Get your crush a gift. If he's one of ours, nothing's less suggestive than a childhood dream, you know? Get him a barbie or a fire truck or something, In Shaa Allah, he'll like it. Tell me how it goes, good luck!"

With that, Maryam hangs up on him. She can only imagine him cursing the air, but she does get an email that she received a bonus just as she's about to shut off her computer; it's as playful as ever, and the tea roses blooming in her chest open sweeter than they have in days.

Truly, there's no drug like earning someone's trust.

[songwolfwildblogs]

ok fuckers.

Info dumping about my aus time

Let's start simple.

A forgotten tale/scrappedtale:

An au I throw all my abandoned ideas in a sort of like an omega timeline but for scrapped ideas expect they aren't fucking safe from error because it's a normal au expect it's just a bunch of scrapped shit. The main guy of this au is the first fucker who appeared in the au named Scrap, who is a chill guy with ADHD and autism because his original au was called "Whatever the fuck is wrong with me tale" he is the proud father of two bitties named sunny and paint, they are very silly, Scrap is also a musician

Undermmo:

Chara, Asriel, papyrus, undyne, and alphys, well technically not them but I'll call them that, (note they're all human) after some crowdfunding make an mmo, all the characters in the mmo are based on either the staff behind on the mmo or people the staff know (like toriel in the mmo is based on asriel and chara's mom) but 2 characters are unique... sorta, gaster and sans are papyrus' characters family which papyrus is using as a way to cope because trauma, as the mmo continues to update gaster and sans being to become more and more aware... gaster is the first one to Crack and gain sentience (well some form of sentience since sentience in it of itself is poorly defined but anyway) but manages to stay on task and continue to play his role meanwhile sans is going slightly insane, then the 7 fallen update drops, bringing in 7 new characters making Chara's character no longer the only human, 6 of the seven are completely original to the mmo while frisk is based on chara and asriel's adoptive sibling, frisk almost immediately gains sentience thanks to the player (not the in universe player, the YOU sort of player) and they basically get to decide whether or not they want to follow along with the script of their life or find a new path for the story

Chara and the rest of the irl crew have their own plot line but it's mostly them being goofy and overworking themselves because their publisher is giving them strict deadlines. Also at one point irl toriel plays the game and says she really likes the sans character which causes a weird running joke in the office about sans fucking your mom.

Underspore:

Sansby au where snowdin is overrun by a fungal parasite and grillby's becomes a safe haven because the fungi is weak to fire, snowdin is put into quarantine separating sans and papyrus becomes papyrus was staying with undyne for "training camp" before the outbreak happened, sans get infected of course and the au is basically grillby helping sans fighting off the infection while knowing that ultimately sans is going to die. Sans dies in grillby's arms, blind and unable to move

Anyway Sans aka spore is really silly and strange while infected and I love him but he keeps fucking dying

Understage: pretty simple an au where fights are actually stage performances, almost everything is solved via improvised plays, you can choose to play along or actually fucking kill people which is really easy in the beginning but after awhile people stop performing with you and you have to chase them down and kill them as they struggle to fight you, anyway everyone has on stage personas expect sans who is one of the stagehands, toriel is retired, papyrus's fight is silly, undyne's fight is pirate themed, mettaton's fight is a musical (don’t ask how he manages to improvise an entire musical, he's gay) asgore is the only non genocide fight that is an actual fight but it still happens on a stage. Sans just beats you too death back stage because he's tired of your shit

Those are my core 4 non-multiverse aus. I would go into extreme detail about everything about these aus but I don't think you want to read all of that

Next time we cover my multiverse aus

[outofcontexttokusatsu]

I'll make this its own post to keep the dash at least readable but it just reminds me highly of Saber in every single worst possible way.

The first episode legitimately gave me a headache with how there was always a thousand things on screen at once and everything was constantly moving around. It's like there was simultaneously too many things happening and yet nothing happening. Other than a clunky minute long infodump we get very poorly introduced to the cast with almost nothing to really clue you in on what each character is like beyond assumptions based on their aesthetics. The only character who has any real screentime is Gira (Red) and I won't say he's bad but he just has no real direction beyond "hyper screaming".

I know this screenshot might seem like cherrypicking but it was legit the only frame I could find where it was still, but just look at this! Why is this so unnecessarily elaborate and detailed? Why is everything so brightly lit yet the characters are barely lit? Why the hell is the camera pointed at the fucking ceiling in the corner when the focal point SHOULD be the characters who are squashed down to the bottom and barely viewable because everyone's lit in fucking orange and they all blend in! It'd be one thing for the camera angle but the characters are so far away and out of the center of the screen you can barely tell where they are!

And almost every scene is like this! I could barely tell what was happening half the time. Every single set is a horribly over designed and distracting CG nightmare landscape beyond a small few scenes (which actually looked really good) and there's a great big deal of absolutely nothing significant going on beyond Red's argument with the king guy there, and that was a painfully generic "I'm an asshole because I'm the king and I can be an asshole" kind of speech. It's really been a while since a Sentai had such an generally unpleasant opener and I just cannot understand where people are saying it was good come from, unless their brains are so fried that the overload of stimulation just immediately triggers a "good" response regardless. (Disclaimer: this is not a directed attack at anyone please do not get angry at me)

Like look I'll still probably keep going until I either have a aneurysm or I get too fed up to keep at it but this was a generally unpleasant watching experience and I do not foresee it improving in any way. I dunno where this cope of "YEAH BUT DONBROS" or people saying the first episodes are always bad because like I can't think of the last time a Sentai had a bad first episode but ended up turning around except like, MAYBE ToQger? It barely establishes the characters, the plot is just kind of haphazardly thrown around, the entire show is just very poorly shot on a base filmmaking level, the overuse of CG with no real coherent or consistent style is nauseating and it just REEKS of Omori pushing his bizarre ideas onto the show already and I don't feel like sticking around for the 4th time dealing with him.

Even the changes were boring! How do you do that? How do you make a boring change sequence!!!

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

hey, i feel like an absolutely ill person. i don't have access to therapy but i am reading a lot about mental health and am very interested in it. i am not self diagnosing, the only thing i am sure i have is cptsd. but i see myself in so many illnesses. when they list symptoms and i realize, something i do or feel is actually a symptom and not normal, i feel less and less like a normal human. i feel like the most ill person, like nothing i do or feel is anything but a symptom. i am afraid to start therapy one day because i fear that they'll either a. confirm that i am that broken or b. say i have very little issues and am making it up.

it's not all bad, i am not as hard on myself anymore since i see what counts as "symptom", i don't blame myself for all my difficulties that much anymore. i am afraid it'll come out that i am actually healthy and just lazy and just used it as an excuse to be even more lazy.

i read a lot of articles about how the rise in self diagnosis actually are (in the eyes of the writer, idk if that's true) cheaply excuses for the peoples poorly perfomance, taking the responsibility for all faults from that persons shoulders and always blames the illness. and i am afraid that's what i do, that i don't blame myself when i fail but put it on "idk what illness i have but there is something".

i am simultaniously convinces i kinda have every illness there is and am beyond repair, and also that i have no illness at all and if i seek diagnosis people will know and blame me.

Hi anon,

While professional diagnosis is always recommended, not everyone can access or afford a diagnosis. There is an epidemic of pathologization that therapists and psychiatrists sometimes perpetuate - seeing your human behavior as "disordered" can not only come with stigma but looking at it that way can warp your idea of what "normal" means. When you're made to feel like aspects of yourself are "not normal" or "disordered" it's easy to feel broken and ashamed. Getting a professional diagnosis comes with its own stigma and it can be easy to feel like it defines you.

I think it's worth considering that there are therapists out there who actively work against pathologization and acknowledge your humanity instead of perceiving you through the lens of disorders and symptoms. My previous therapist told me he believes I have a particular dissociative disorder but explained that a diagnosis isn't necessary for treatment, and that I can still be treated for the disorder without an official diagnosis.

It's hard because many symptoms of different mental illnesses overlap, and this is partly what can lead to misdiagnosis, both personally and professionally. Many mental illnesses also interact with each other or intertwine, making it difficult to distinguish (like for example my BPD vs my PTSD). There's also debate about the validity of certain diagnoses and whether or not they're really just different expressions of PTSD. So it can often be hard to make a confident diagnosis.

I think it's also worth considering that the amount of mental illnesses someone has doesn't necessarily mean they have it worse. Some people may struggle immensely with a single disorder and others may function well with a laundry list of mental illnesses. Regardless, there are ways to cope with and manage every mental illness - there is always hope.

You're right that some people who self diagnose (or even those who are professionally diagnosed) will use their disorder as an excuse, instead of taking accountability, but it sounds like you're just trying to understand your own experiences and how to best get help.

If anyone would like to respectfully chime in please feel free to do so. Otherwise, I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[ionlytalktodogs]

Sorry for the shameless self promo but I’m actually not sorry at all, here’s some quick descriptions for my fan fiction if anyone feels like they’d like some new fan fics to read.

The Art of Cooking - Literally horrible Breaking Bad x Hannibal crossover. Everyone is OOC, the plot is elaborately put together but barely explained, nothing makes sense but it’s super fun and also hilarious. Plot: Will decides he’s sick of the FBI and takes his adopted daughter and TOTALLY platonic roommate (who he sleeps with and kisses with tongue) Hannibal Lecter across the country to take a job at the DEA. Hilarity ensues. 27k words, was updating every Sunday but I just posted the finale today.

Shatter Me (And Bring Me Together Again) - Kind of my pride and joy. For once I’m actually attempting to be good at writing fan fiction? Gasp. Also tons of head canons. Will and Hannibal are T4T. You cannot tell me otherwise. There’s a lot of metaphors in this too and like...an actual message. Just you wait, shit’s gonna go off the rails in the coming chapters. Synopsis: Years after the Fall, Will and Hannibal are working as international assassins until they realize someone is trying to kill them, and Alana and Margot. The four of them have to figure out who, but can they even trust each other? 7k words uploaded but 20k words written (and yet I haven’t even gotten to the core of the plot yet lmao), updates every Monday.

We’re Conjoined, I’m Curious Whether Either of Us Can Survive Separation - Weird, probably poorly written Hannibal short stories. Wrote a lot of these while severely concussed. You can probably tell. Enjoy. 4k uploaded but 31k written. Updates when I feel like it.

You Belong to Me - First Hannibal fan fiction I ever wrote. I had just started the show a week prior and I was coping hard. Didn’t have a good handle on the show, my head canons, or anything really so it’s not consistent with the rest of my writing. Poorly written but I actually think the plot is a bit compelling when you really get into it so...idk. Wrote the entire thing in three weeks (and had not finished s3 when I wrote it but I went back and rewrote some bits after finishing s3). Plot: It’s just the plot of the show completely rewritten. 44k words, completed.

This Is Home - Batfamily one shots. Started writing this during 2020, when I was 16, because I was coping immensely with some horrible shit going on in my life. I doubt I’ll ever update it and I even privated it for a while but it’s public again by popular demand. Who knows, maybe some day I’ll update it. Or at least upload what the rest of what I wrote for it. It’s not my best work and I’m not proud of it but it brought me comfort in one of the worst times of my life so, if you feel like that’s something you need, enjoy. 4k words uploaded, 14k words written. Updates probably never but maybe someday.

Future fics to look out for:

Fugu - A Hannibal fan fiction I wrote entirely while very drunk. I have no idea what happens in it because I’m too afraid to reread it but if I ever get up the nerve then I’ll post it. My roommate read it and says it’s fantastic but I don’t trust him. 14k words, completed.

Adam - Literally just rewriting the movie Adam because I’m autistic and I felt like it could've been better but it kinda turned into a Hannibal AU. 1k words currently but I’m still working on it for whatever reason.

Meat and Bonbons - Wip name lmao. Blood and Chocolate x Hannibal...crossover? AU? God only knows. Will is a comic artist from America researching Lithuanian werewolves (Vilkacis). Hannibal is a Lithuanian werewolf. They fall in love. 5k words, I’m working on it. I’ll probably start uploading chapters when I have around 10k words.

Oh and in case you’re wondering, in total I’ve written around 140k words of Hannibal fan fiction since I was introduced to it in October. No I’m not okay.

[inseparabiles]

Writing on a blog dedicated, at least in spirit, to our dissociative identity disorder, this is something that fascinates me. For context - living with the poster child disorder of "that's not even real" and "you're just faking it to get out of jail" and "you're just histrionic with bpd I know this because I took a psych class once in uni", that some fucking airheads still make their paycheck "criticising" in the psychology field (and teaching), the fear of being declared a faker, an attention seeker, a liar, a self-centered and stage-obsessed criminal-until-proven-otherwise came as a free package with the diagnosis. Just the suspicion of the diagnosis was enough for all of those labels. From whom? Everyone.

The first time I dared to open my mouth to my psychiatric nurse, she was putting me against the wall for lying and omitting, because in her view, I was doing too well with no explanation. In reality, at that point, I'd spent some months after becoming aware of the system getting to know them and reading up on how to get the basics of communication together, and working through the first chapters of Coping With Trauma-Related Dissociation, which helped us understand what we needed to do with one another in order to stabilise and feel safer in our everyday life. Things were actually going wonderfully, I wasn't lying, but I was omitting, yes. I was omitting, because even though at that point I knew nothing about DID beyond what I was learning from resources and my friend/now partner, who'd been in the community for a long time and gave us crucial peer support in terms of figuring our situation out, I knew extremely well the stigma associated with "split personality", and our first and primary instinct has always been to hide and cover the existence of the system.

But she was forcing it, so I told her. I was asking for help, yes, but with the context of doing so well - we were winning, and we wanted to keep winning.

She promptly told us we weren't allowed to leave, and started to set us up for involuntary inpatient stay. Exactly what we'd been afraid of the most: that "the psychiatric system" would imprison us and kill us, kill the parts of us who were vulnerable, with cocktails of medication in padded rooms and straitjackets and whatnot that we'd seen in the movies. (And, to a degree, during our actual inpatient stay years before.)

The resident psychiatrist did a quick evaluation of us and released us after, clearly annoyed at the nurse for overreacting and putting us in the extremely triggered and traumatised state that we were in, but it did permanent damage.

Very soon after, we discovered the online "discourse" on the validity of DID, and the "fake claiming" communities. This is all we inherited, first thing, with our diagnosis - which we did get after the above clusterfuck, within a year, with the aid of a specialising therapist and years of notes from our history, or so I assume. I can't remember, it's been years, and I have DID. The point is, even the DID community itself demands that you will never show a bright side to your disorder.

You either suffer all of the time, always, you hate yourself, you hate your other selves, you want to die, and you're forever a mess and you're in eternal war against yourself, or you're faking.

We are not this way and have never been. Prior to discovering the system, we were poorly. To spare the details, at 29 when we were diagnosed, we hadn't worked a day in our lives, dropped out of school at 12, and spent about a decade locked indoors with suicidal spirals being the expected main event of every three days or so. But our main strength has been our us, the family that we have, and the care that we've shown each other all along. Even if we can't love ourselves, we can love each other, and after learning communication - learning to listen, learning to talk - we've been doing phenomenally. Our condition has changed from treatment-resistant and debilitating to actually, we no longer need SSRI medication at all, after being on it for our whole lives. And luckily, this is enough proof for us, but not the world.

No, we're now in that funny place where our partially treated trauma/dissociative disorder looks like too much fun to the world. We're fine and we love each other. We indulge in dressup, we have our own silly little blogs and journals each with their own specific equipment like fancy ink pens and wares of stickers and decor, we have galleries of fake Instagram pictures of ourselves, we use PluralKit on Discord and talk to ourselves like we own the chat - among friends, anyway, or just between ourselves in our private one. All of this means we're fake, fake, fake, fake. God forbid a man has fun. God forbid a woman takes an afternoon to herself to give herself a makeover and go on a date. God forbid a guy just wants to feel comfortable and laugh and express himself, or have a chat with his closest friends.

We're not in enough pain all of the time to be "true" DID anymore. If we were "true" DID then we'd still be in the untreated, pre-diagnosed state. This is a stagnant disorder of identities that may never experience growth or true humanity. All I am allowed to be is a filthy, incapable hikikomori afraid of the world, because anything else is fucking weird to people.

I'm sorry, but. None of your fucking business. I've spent 33 years of my life split squarely on a tightrope over the chasms of "I don't want to die" and "I want to kill myself now". I'm 33 fucking years old and I've earned my goddamn license to feel good, actually. I'm allowed to be fucking weird because I'm developmentally disabled. I will never not be the way that I am, and I also have no intentions to ever be anything but the way that I am, I'm just aiming to be better at it.

This now means that I'm not actually allowed to talk about my disorder... basically anywhere but here and in therapy. No matter where I go, people treat me like a criminal. People who don't have DID tell me I'm faking for clout and larping (LARPing is great by the way and you should absolutely try it out instead of using it as a weird slur online) and they're the champions of true sufferers who are there to nobly remind me that REAL people with DID are actually so in pain all of the time and dying unrecognised while freaks like me... post on Tumblr for attention or whatever I don't fucking know I'm still disabled and in chronic pain and I can't do shit with myself regardless of our overall improvement - and people with DID tell me what I have isn't real DID and I'm "anti-recovery" or whatever because I don't subscribe to their specific dogma of recovery (which, for the record, every single microcosm of the recovery community has their own version of, and they all hate each other for it). The latest edition of how this fucked us over was our choice to write frankly about the positive sides of how the often negatively portrayed coping mechanisms of DID can be turned to work for recovery, and how things like substitute beliefs (believing things that are factually untrue such as 'I am an actual dragon trapped in a human suit' when you're not) can be used not to distance one from reality to escape but help one adapt into it (because I am a dragon in a human suit, a dentist cannot scare me), and had the whole conversation just without warning or any sort of notice deleted from the community. Mods never replied to my request on clarity on what the fuck they were doing and why, and I haven't been back in the community since, either.

And it's hilarious. The whole fucking thing is hilarious. You're faking it if you've recovered too much, because a true sufferer of a severe mental health condition would never recover, but if you don't recover enough, you're anti-recovery, and therefore also faking. There's a slim venue of acceptable suffering in an eternal still-shot in the middle, but you're not actually allowed to exist beyond it or past it in any capacity.

The only true DID case is a non-person who is incapable of growth and change, for a disorder that is all about identity, which by definition is all about growth and change.

I'm so tired of it. Sorry, freaks, I'm gonna freak the way that I freak from now on. I'm too well-adjusted these days to be your perfectly martyred poster patient.

ive found that partially treated mental illness can sometimes look to uninvolved onlookers like faked mental illness.