all nine of the stretch goal designs for this campaign - I am not sure how many goals we will be able to reach but there will come a point where I won't be able to do any more goals unless I get fulfillment help, so we'll see if it gets to that point and if I can get help! below the cut are the names, info, and artist statements for each plushie! I may end up changing the names as I am still not sure about ash, sandy, kelly, and luca, but let me know if you like them!
Tristan The Depression Raccoon: Tristan’s plushie will come with a removable hoodie accessory! He loves cozy video games like animal crossing and stardew valley. There are not many widely used symbols for depression that I could find, so I chose Tristan's colors based on how my depression makes me feel, bruised and cold.
Ash the Anxiety Bunny Moth: Ash’s plushie will have fluffy moth antennae and removable magnetic wings similar to Bug’s plush! They love to visit the home depot lights section when their friends are with them! I chose gray and yellow for the main body colors because my anxiety personally deals with uncertainty and things out of my control. The green comes from one of the anxiety flags created by Beyond MOGAI. To add moth features was a suggestion I got that I thought fit very well!!
Sandy the Obsessive Compulsive Disorder Kitty: Sandy is an artist and loves to draw and paint landscapes! Her wings will be attached via magnet, similar to Bug’s wings. The colors of her design are based on the OCD flag created by lucellion, with spirals in her paws to represent repetitive thought processes.
Melon the Sensory Processing Disorder Opossum: Melon is a silly opossum who has bat wings! Melon’s wings will be attached via magnet, similar to Bug’s wings. Melon’s colors are inspired by the SPD pride flag created by Beyond MOGAI.
Jazz the Borderline Personality Disorder Kitty: Jazz is a tortoiseshell kitty that loves to read!! Jazz’s plush will come with a pvc charm of the hand of Eris symbol for you to put on xer collar if you choose! The colors are loosely based on the BPD flag created with community input by ptsdsafe on tumblr.
Kelly the Schizospec Axolotl: kelly is an axolotl who is studying chemistry and loves science! kelly’s design is inspired by the Schizospec flag, created with community input and organized by schizosupport on tumblr. They will have a collar tag once again made of PVC featuring the associated double sided arrow symbol.
Em the Bipolar Disorder Chimera: Em is a chimera kitty who has dragon wings and a snake tail! One side of the snake tail is smiling, the other frowning. This takes inspiration from the :): symbol often associated with Bipolar disorder.
Cy the Irritable Bowel Syndrome Otter: Cy is a happy little otter griffin! They love to sculpt and craft and sew! Cy’s color pallet is based on the assortment of medications I take for my own IBS symptoms.
Luca the Dyslexia Fox: Luca is a dancer and loves to perform! Their design and colors are loosely based on the infinity heart+ moon and star symbol that is often found on dyslexia flags. they will have L and R embroidered on their paws, which was a suggestion I was given.
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for the "things you said" writing meme -- matthew/leon, 12 :)
Thank you for the request <3 I realised very quickly I have no idea what constitutes a 'mini' fic. I struggle to write 'mini' anything lol. Hopefully this still satisfies :)
12. things you said when you thought i was asleep
It takes all of Matthew's willpower not to reach over and smash his phone just to shut off the alarm. All that saves his wallet and an awkward trip to the Apple store is the split-second realisation that the shrieking in his ear isn't his usual alarm.
It's a ringtone. Not his own, either.
He pries his eyes open to find the world through the window is still dark. One of the balcony doors is still ajar, letting in a cool night breeze. He's lying on his side in his own bed, the end of the all-star weekend memorialized by several aches and bruises.
His hips and ass are a little sore too, but that's unrelated. Technically.
The ringing stops. Someone huffs behind him.
Someone. Yeah, no, Matthew knows who it is. They may have met up at the bar once the media was done swarming, but Matthew was far from drunk. Painfully sober, in fact. If he's being honest with himself, he was hoping things would turn out this way.
One more time. One more moment. Because it's been a long time since they were them. Longer still since the sex was just sex, since hate became want. Matthew is strong in a lot of ways, but not against this.
"Davo." Leon's voice is low, and still gruff from sleep when he answers his phone. He sits up on his side of the bed, trying not to disturb Matthew, pulling the covers back up over Matthew's shoulder like he thinks he'll freeze to death in this balmy Florida winter.
Usually Matthew's a heavy sleeper. But never when Leon's around. He makes it impossible for Matthew to completely relax, to let time slip by. Leon's just too big of a presence, almost too much to bear. It was more important that everything linger, to bask in the strange comfort of their relationship, whatever it was. They had so little time. Even less, now.
"I know it's late. No, no, I'm not at the hotel. I'm... I'm with Tkachuk."
Leon says his last name like it's wrong, like it's rotting on his tongue.
When he corrects himself, says, "Matthew", it's better, lighter. Like it's ambrosia.
Matthew remembers when Leon Draisaitl saying his name wouldn't have meant a damn thing to him. When that simple act didn't fill him with fondness.
In the silence, Matthew can hear McDavid talking on the other end, but can't quite make out what he's saying. Matthew tucks up under the duvet, breathing quiet and even, trying to focus instead on the distant sound of waves and the ticking clock on his wall.
Ticking. Always ticking. Time bleeds out when they're together.
He doesn't even remember falling asleep last night, but he wishes he hadn't now. He wishes he'd stayed awake longer, just to... just to see him. To look Leon in the eye, to talk about everything and nothing until dawn, to feel big, too-warm hands on his body more and more and more. He wants to make sure he'll remember how Leon feels, sounds, tastes.
"Connor," Leon says, a warning, followed by a sigh. "I know. I know, okay? It was stupid, but..."
Maybe it was. Matthew has a good thing here in Florida. Better than ever. He was happy to leave Alberta behind and start over. So why did leaving make him feel like a coward?
Because leaving was about Calgary, and the Flames. About his career and his future. It wasn't about Leon. Leon was the wrench in the gears; the one thing he didn't expect to have to say goodbye to, the kind of hurt he never could have accounted for.
"I needed to see him." Leon sounds helpless. He's not the only one.
The only time he's heard Leon so lost was after his team was knocked out of the playoffs last season. The Oilers meant nothing--Matthew was pretty fucking glad considering they'd beat out the Flames--but he never wanted to hear Leon like that again.
He definitely never wanted to be the cause of it. Not like this.
Leon is still mumbling into his phone. "Yeah, I'm fine. He's... we're good. He's happy."
A hand settles on Matthew's head. Fingers play with his curls, nails scratch his scalp. A thumb presses just behind Matthew's ear, stroking the soft skin where only hours before Leon had put his lips, whispering sweetness and filth in equal measure.
It takes everything for Matthew not to groan, to whimper and surrender, roll over and climb on top of Leon and take all over again. Beg him to take something--everything--from Matthew.
"I don't know," Leon says then.
It's easy to guess what McDavid asked.
He's happy. But are you?
"I can't even tell him I still love him."
Still. Matthew didn't even know there was a before, let alone a still. Leon never said anything. Fuck, if Matthew wasn't busy trying to remember how to breathe, he'd roll over and punch him.
Then again, what did Matthew ever say? They never talked about it. Never let those closet hook-ups and slipping out back doors and little drinks and dinners and overnights excused as practical necessity be anything more than that. A bunch of chirps and half-truths and aborted discussions because it was all becoming too much. There was too much uncertainty. Too many ways it could go wrong.
It did go wrong. It became something. It became real.
Maybe that would have changed something. Maybe it wouldn't have changed anything at all. It doesn't matter now. Matthew left, and neither of them said a word about things like love, because it was easier to hope it would shrivel and die with distance and time.
"I know I'm being stupid." Leon pauses when McDavid interrupts, then huffs. "No, I am. Fuck, I really thought I'd get over it. Maybe I will. Eventually."
Don't you fucking dare, you piece of shit, Matthew wants to scream.
"Not sure I can, though." Leon swallows so loud Matthew can hear it. Then quieter, like he's not sure he's even allowed to admit it, he says, "I don't really want to."
He's still playing with Matthew's hair, occasionally dragging a finger over his bare shoulder or down his back, tracing imaginary lines across Matthew's flesh. Like he's something to be memorized and cherished.
They're both so fucking stupid. Matthew bites his lip and tries not to choke on the lump in his throat. Could be his heart, climbing right up and out of his mouth. He clings to the sheets with shaking hands.
"I'm not going to fuck up what he's got here," Leon says tiredly, voice thick with tension and pathetic resignation.
Leon's not here to drag him back. He wouldn't do that. So why is he here? Just to torture them both? Being with him doesn't feel like torture. It feels like winning. It feels like defiance and decadence and too much and not enough. It feels like what could have been and what could still be.
He didn't find Leon at that bar and bring him home out of pity, or nostalgia, one last fuck for old times sake. It was... it just was. Not an ending. Not some final goodbye. Proof maybe there could still be something. Getting over it was never an option, Matthew knew that well before he stepped onto the ice as a Panther and found himself staring Leon down all over again.
Matthew's vision is blurring. His eyes sting, warm and wet. There's blood pounding in his ears, and a hand clutching his heart, a vice around his lungs. He hardly remembers how to breathe.
He doesn't catch the rest of Leon's conversation, except something about meeting Connor back at the hotel tomorrow. Meaning he's staying the night, at least. He's staying.
When Leon hangs up the phone, Matthew finally comes up for air. He relaxes his shoulders, listening to the soft thump as Leon taps his phone against his forehead over and over. Then it clatters on the side table. Leon sighs, sniffs, and sinks back under the covers. He tucks right up against Matthew's back, still burning like a furnace, soft muscle and skin brushing Matthew's spine in all the right ways.
He throws an arm around Matthew and finds one of his hands, worming his fingers through the gaps to hold it. His palm is sweaty, not that it matters at all to Matthew. He can't help squeezing Leon's hand a little, but if Leon notices, he doesn't say a word.
Not until he's wrapped tight around Matthew, near suffocating, like any part of them that isn't touching is a sin.
"Love you," Leon mumbles, barely more than a whisper, pressing his lips right to the base of Matthew's neck. Matthew's body can't seem to decide whether to shiver or melt under the heat.
Leon says it like it's inevitable. Painful. Pitiful.
What he's saying is, I'm sorry I love you. I'm sorry I couldn't say it before. I'm sorry I don't know how to say it now. I'm sorry it's too late, it's the wrong place, the wrong time.
Like he doesn't think Matthew could ever understand. And that's the worst part of it all. They're still not on the same page. Tearing down what they never built.
If Leon's only brave enough to say it when Matthew's asleep, then Matthew will just have to be brave enough to say it in the light of day. He doesn't run, and he won't now that he knows he doesn't have to.
He stares into the night outside his window, listening to Leon breathe, feeling his heart beat through Matthew's chest like that's where it longs to be.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow maybe they can stop chasing time long enough to make the most of what they have. To make up for what they've wasted. And whatever happens after, well, maybe they can stop being afraid of that, too.
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