#overthinking cw

[fletcherwilbury]

@whumpuary Day 1: Snow

Warning for Anxiety, overthinking, overworking, cold intolerance, fatigue

[zoomzooml]

Bumblebee overthinks late at night after a fight with one of his teammates

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

hi! loving your art. I was watching your awesome stories/gifs and I was wondering: how did Chang develop his feelings for Tintin? Did he discover them before or after him? How did he react and why? (English is not my first language so if you see a grammatical mistake, I'm sorry. Also, sorry if so many questions made you feel like you were in a philosophy exam)

Thank you so much! As a contrast to the rest of the Marlinspike team I'm writing Chang as someone who makes friends and develops crushes pretty easily!

I imagine he's had a crush on Tintin for some time, possibly from when they first met. He's been at the mercy of his circumstances for most of his life until that point - Tintin basically makes him feel capable of doing stuff.

He's pretty heartbroken after the Blue Lotus. Tintin doesn't contact him for years. Chang is struggling to adjust to his new family and is failing at school, having missed out on a good education for a few years prior. Until Tibet he feels pretty hopeless, he will never live up to the time when he took down a drug ring.

His near death experience in Tibet shakes him out of this rut. He starts to travel and take up hobbies like dance and photography. Didi trains him in some basic martial arts. Tintin makes an effort to actually stay in touch this time. Chang has some abandonment issues as he's frequently lost people throughout his life, so he's someone who's willing to give people second chances, even if they've hurt him badly. Chang thinks he's well over his crush on Tintin when he comes around to Belgium for his studies, but falls for him again very quickly!

Unlike Tintin, Chang is a lot more comfortable with who he is. He's used to being the odd one out and has generally low expectations for himself, so just goes with the flow.

Below I talk a little with how I'm going about writing him and the historical context surrounding this, cw for mentions of racism (sinophobia) and queerphobia:

I'm writing Chang as bi, I thought it would be interesting to explore as Asian men were perceived differently in the 30s compared to today. While Asian men in the West are currently heavily desexualised in the early 20th century they were stereotyped as predatory and deviant. In London a lot of Chinese immigrants were male dockworkers, so when they married white women there was a lot of fearmongering about predatory and disloyal Chinese men.

A lot of depictions of Asian men in Western media reflected these stereotypes (and often used queercoding to push the idea of Asian men being animalistic seducers - General Henry Chang in Shanghai Express (1932) was written to be bisexual while posing as a threat to the white leads). Some examples off the top of my head include Hishuru Tori from The Cheat (1915) and The Mask of Fu Manchu (1932). Novels frequently depicted Chinese drug lords with borderline supernatural powers in manipulation.

On the other hand I've noticed how fans frequently depict Chang as someone who's submissive, demure and soft, which ignores how ridiculously brave and proactive he is in canon (stealing documents from police officers, charging into a man immediately after getting shot at by a machine gun, I could go on!). It's a common example of Fandom Racism (not accusing anyone specifically, it's just a trend I've noticed.)

When writing Chang I'm kinda reckoning with two different eras. From a contemporary angle I'm writing him as a love interest, which as an Asian guy I rarely see in media today. I also gotta consider his own time and context, how he would navigate being a queer Chinese guy, and how that would affect his relationship with others and himself.

[liz-wes]

i know i just know you're not gone, you can't be gone

[lethesbeastie]

Pov: you're not sure if the visions are from psychosis or the supernatural

[phoenix-flamed]

I'm sorry. I know I'm being a giant ball of negativity on here lately, and posting way too much OOC while not posting enough RP replies to people.

There's no need to interact with this post; it's mostly just me yelling into the void to get it off my chest.

I won't ramble. I'm sorry if I'm off-putting. I know some people just don't vibe OOCly, and that's fine -- I have no issues with that whatsoever. But I still want to apologize regardless.

[lightbulb-warning]

wait if Shuichi gets a Kokichi-Pop, shouldn’t Maki get a Kaito one :[ ??

she could grab one, if she wanted to

[puckpocketed]

“First couple of practices he put Tiger Balm in my jock. Then he took my gear outside and threw it on the roof. And then he began to belittle me in front of my teammates, the coaches, whoever would listen to him. He’d make fun of my clothes, the way I spoke. He was two years older than me and a rising star, and he wielded his power over me like I was nothing — like I was subhuman.

If you’ve heard of me, you’ve heard of the hazing incident that took place that season. Thanks to this guy, that was the way I was introduced to the entire hockey world. I was the kid who wouldn’t go along with it. The kid who didn’t “get” the culture.

I dreamed of my parents reading in the paper back home about their son scoring a hat trick in his first game, or leading his team to the playoffs. Instead they had to hear about my refusal to strip naked and get in a bathroom in the back of the team bus with three other rookies. And, somehow, the whole issue was treated like some sort of discussion. I read headlines like, WAS WHAT HAPPENED TO AKIM ALIU WRONG?”

— Hockey Is Not For Everyone (2020), by Akim Aliu. READ HERE

“When Akim Aliu first told his story in 2020, my reaction was that he was soft and needed to toughen up. In my mind, he was a terrible team player and he sounded like an egotistical, cancerous presence. We all participated in the same initiations, we were all treated terribly by veteran players, and racism was just something that we normalized. I thought he was the issue; it was our job to conform to the norms of the hockey world. Varying from those norms, especially as a player of colour, was highly frowned upon. What’s said in the room stays in the room, and it appeared to me that Akim was breaking the hockey code wherever he went […]

In his letter, he remembered being told that he didn’t get the “culture” of hockey. I now realize that we never understood the word culture. We used the word as an excuse, or an alibi, to carry out these hideous acts on minors that had been a tradition for decades. The difference for me was that I looked the same as everyone else. I soon realized that I was the issue, not Akim. Throughout my career, I was complicit in this behaviour, and I never stood up to stop it. I was ignorant.”

- Conflicted Scars: An Average Player’s Journey To the NHL (2022), by Justin Davis.

[thelunarsystemwrites]

My second attempt.

(...this isn't a story, or a poem or made up. This actually... is real. TW for suicide attempt, depression, use of overdosing as a metaphor, and... yeah, I'm sorry.)

This happened on June 3rd, 2024.

Monday, June 3rd, 2024, sometime around 5 pm.

Was when I attempted to take my life for the second time.

I've been feeling so... uneasy, the past few days. I thought, "It must be one of my moots!" So to every moot in my list, I checked on them. I'm glad I did, I got good and bad news from each one, I got to hear different stories, I got to offer my comfort and congratulations.

...but the feeling was still there.

So I kept asking, my moots, friends, people I've never talked to too much—How are you?

It was still there, eating me from the inside out

...And, on June 3rd... something clicked.

I was kinda thinking of it for the past couple days, of doing this. I think my posts, my demeanour reflected it even before i knew.

I was talking to someone on discord. They might've thought it was a nice conversation... I was planning on taking my life while we joked around.

I think that feeling, might've been me. Might've been my gut saying "Hey, don't do this!" Might've been myself reminding me of a promise I made to my twin. My sister, my best friends, my platonic spouse, my mum, the people I care about. The family I've made here.

...but

I tried... anyways.

Because I just couldn't see any further thsn right now, the heaviness that pushed my body down, the bad thoughts I overdosed on.

And... I didn't tell anyone. That would've been my biggest regret, because I love them all so, so fucking much. They are my family.

And my other friends, moots... I would've missed immensely too.

So... I'm sorry. I'm sorry for trying something so.... stupid. I'm sorry I didn't talk to anyone, I'm sorry I've been distancing myself, I'm sorry if I worried anyone, I'm sorry.

...But the one thing, the one thing I'm not sorry about...

I'm not sorry it didn't work.

I'm glad it didn't. I'm glad I got to tell my family on here, that I love them. That they're a family to me.

I'm glad I got to tell them good morning. I'm glad I told them. I'm glad... I'm here, I think, yeah. I'm glad, grateful for the people I have in my life. Thank you.

[muzzlemouths]

im tired of messing with this. just take it

[fletcherwilbury]

@sicktember Day 13: Anxious Stomach

Warning for Illness, vomiting, stress, past surgery, anxiety, overthinking

[kateeorg]

Layers of Grief and Love in The Princess Bride

Somebody must have realized this before, but I haven't seen it discussed anywhere, so...

Okay, so you know how a lot of The Princess Bride focuses on love and grieving? You know, Wesley and Buttercup's love that transcends death, Buttercup grieving Wesley so much she's become dead inside, Inigo spending 20 years grieving and trying to get revenge for his beloved father's death?

Well, the story takes on an added layer of significance and sadness when we consider the framing story of Grandfather reading the book to his grandson.

Because Grandfather mentions early on that this was a book passed from father to son.

So, why is Grandfather the one reading it to his grandson?

Because - and this might be a head canon since the film never says it - I have to assume his own son, the kid's father, is likely dead.

This doesn't seem to be something impacting Grandson very strongly, so I'd imagine this loss happened early in his life, too early for him to remember. But Grandfather clearly wants to connect with his son's kid in the best way he knows how:

The Princess Bride.

A story he shared with his own son, who is now gone. A story about loss, and fathers and sons, and a love that transcends death.

Grandson is dismissive at first, in the way young boys often are. They take the adults in their life, especially the elderly, for granted. He dreads Grandpa coming over and pinching his cheeks. Plus the poor kid is sick, so we give him a break for being a bit cheeky about the whole thing. He's also dismissive about the power of love, frustrated that Grandfather is reading a "kissing book". His only reaction to Wesley's initial death is, "Murdred by pirates is good."

But by the end, he's upset at Buttercup seemingly marrying Humperdink instead of Wesley. He can't bear the idea of Wesley being dead. He doesn't mind the kissing anymore. And he asks Grandfather to come back and read to him again tomorrow, the book his own father should have read him. He understands, just a little better, even if unconsciously, what love and loss are. And what his Grandfather means to him in response to that.

And Grandfather's last words? The last words of the whole film? "As you wish." Because this whole story we've just seen unfold was an act of love, from a grandfather to the son of his deceased child.

[aarontveit]

It's only in love and in murder that we still remain sincere.

[aroacewxs]

vincent charbonneau is also aromantic: a personal interpretation and analysis from one aromantic

i'm scared of this not reaching the right people, but i just finished dead plate + got all the endings, and vince as an aromantic allegory is so relevant that it's driving me up the wall! keep in mind as you read that this is just my interpretation :)

the use of cannibalism as a metaphor in dead plate is interesting, as it usually illustrates a very obsessive love that someone has for another person or object, to the point where they let it consume them whole. however, i think you can also interpret the cannibalism as an obsession for trying to give the love that is expected of you.

"I've been told I don't cook with love -- which is a sentimental and meaningless review in the culinary world. I'm a professional chef, not a parent making a meal for their kid."

he can't cook "with love." i assume that he cooks by following precise formulas and measurements that guarantee flavour. flavour he can't taste. flavour he has read about, somewhat understands in theory, but can never experience for himself.

however, this doesn't mean his cooking is bad. he is critically acclaimed for his culinary skill. he opened la guele de saturne in his early 20's. it's no doubt that he's respected and feared in the world of food, but even with several awards to his name, he's told he's missing something. something supposedly crucial. something he doesn't give a damn about, but bothers him nonetheless.

"I can't stand eating. No matter the ingredient, no matter the recipe, everything tastes the exact same. It tastes like nothing, it makes me sick. But with… With you… maybe…"

there are several different interpretations of this scene, but i personally read it as vince living a delusion where if he keeps at it, keeps trying, forces himself to understand, he will eventually find what he's been searching for.

but he won't. it just doesn't work like that. not for him.

"If everything so far has tasted nothing to you, what makes you think I'll be any different? If you're really doing all this just so you can taste again, when it turns out I'm just like any other, what will you do? You would have killed her. You would have killed me for no reason. Are you really ready to deal with that? If this is your idea of trying to make yourself happy, I don't think you'll ever be full."

and rody was right. it wouldn't have mattered which part of him he tore off, it would have all just tasted the same. the same nothing. the same wave of disappointment and frustration would wash over him again and he'd be left a hollow shell with the knowledge that he had killed a person, he had eaten a person, he went through the whole ordeal, and it got him nothing. any hope that maybe this will be different, this won't be like the previous, would be crushed under his own heel.

to me, vince's obsessive search for his sense of taste is an unending search for this something you will never get. in the same way he will never taste, i will never experience love or romance in the way everybody expects me to. this isn't to exclude aros who do experience romantic attraction or do have healthy romantic relationships, and it's not to illustrate being aromantic as something unfulfilling or negative. but you can't deny that this acceptance carries a LOT of weight, and sometimes, denial is sweeter than making peace with it.

vincent charbonneau is my personal aromantic allegory, and whether or not it was intentional, i honestly felt very seen in his character, and i think that is so so important :) hopefully this all made sense,, if there is anything strangely worded i will make it clearer!

[oddclan-askblog]

Ocean Expedition

Raaf regarded his peer in horror,"You said we were only gonna fish a little."

"We are, we are,"Huemmo gave him a shy smile as he tossed a massive bait bag overboard,"uh we're gonna fish for wale anyway."

"The pack is moving in."Klem stood at the front of the boat, spear in tallon, eyeing a dark set of fins in the distance. They spliced through the churning water with alarming speed headed strait for the boat.

Raaf scrambled for the rope tethering them to certain death. He pulled to no avail, the bait bag was as heavy as he was. Raaf turned to the drone furious,"You told me you found a sardine shawl we could hunt! We're not prepared for large game, Vitur will be furious with me when we get back!"

Huemmo gently nudged him aside and shrugged,"Look it was only a little white lie to get your dad off my back." The drone handed Raaf a bronze trident and a brown robe,"Klem and I have done this a dozen times, it's fun you'll see."

Taking the spear in one talon and throwing the coarse fabric over himself with the other Raaf still felt cold. The cloak did little to take the edge off of the brisk morning air as the sun broke the horizon.

"Get ready." Klemok joined the two of them on the starboard side. He also had a trident though its blade was iron and its oak handle ornately decorated...with sark scales.

Raaf fussed arround with his feathers trying to take his mind off of Huemmo,"Why do drones have to be so frustrating?" He grumbled to himself.

"Being headstrong is good most of the time." Klemok chimed making his older brother jump,"Huem says determination is part of what makes him attractive, perdorming acts of strength show off his bravado and leadership potential...or something like that."

"Huh. Doesnt seem very attractive, Asi and Vitur are both determined but their not reckless about it." Raaf fiddled absentmindedly with his hoop earring,"Vitur is too cautious if anything and Asi doesnt do much besides cook I dont think."

"Ya but their old though, they couldnt wrestle a baby Elum if they wanted."

"Youd be surprised. How many sark have you killed? You both hunt big fish often?" Raaf tapped at the scale, its sharp edge bit into his finger and he yelped.

"Careful, they're sharp."

"No kidding," it was a mild scratch but annoying all the same.

"I've only nabbed the three I got these scales from." The younger mud puffed up with pride," The first one was hard but the other two were pretty easy. This'll be my first time taking on a wale, Huemmo thinks me ready for it." He shrugged.

"I hope you are cause I'm not." Raaf's feathers stood on end as he realized the wales were nearly on top of them. Huemo stepped on the spool of roap and locked both of his massive paws arround the bait line. A shadow slithered from the depths towards the boat. Pink stained fangs long as a mudokon forearm broke the surface entrapping the fishnet. Huemmo lurched forward catching himself against the rim of their boat as he strained to keep the line.

Klem struck first, aiming over the ravinouse fangs, Raaf thought he missed. Until the fish spat the meat out and lurched backwards in pain. It's giant bulbous eye struck through by the iron blade. He took aim to finish the thrashing beast off and released his spear.

Black and white blubber smacked the side of their boat as the wale shoved them away with its tail. Raaf and Klem fell backwards as they were sent spinning away from the pack. Several minutes passed before the vessel steadied out. Raaf pulled himself up into a sitting position and peered unsteadily over the rim. Two Kill'r Wale's were floating lifeless among the still waters, abandoned by their pack. His blade pierced the eye of a small pup, Raaf swore under his breath, it was too young to die. He felt numb as Klemek's cries shattered the stillness of the moment. The bait and line were long gone in the ruddy water. Huemmo nowhere to be found, they had lost their drone.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

TRAINING ARC: START!! BOTHER YOUR GUARDIAN AND EXHIBIT ISSUES. NOW SOLVE THOSE ISSUES BY BOTHERING GUARDIANS. I HAVE FULL FAITH IN OUR HEROS!