As it turns out, trade partners will not be offered out today. I am in a huge burnout at this moment, and absolutely don’t have the brain capacity to be doing assignments outside of work. I’ll figure out how to work this out, but I’m assuming it’ll end with me re-opening sign-ups until the middle/end of March.
Anyone who would like to step out due to inability to predict free time to draw that far in the future (or if you’re just to damn frustrated with how this is playing out) please contact me and I can remove you now!
Otherwise, stay tuned.
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I was diagnosed with depression when I was seventeen, the "this will probably keep happening your whole life" kind of depression, but aside from some really rough moments in my mid-twenties I coped pretty well; by the time I was living in Chicago I could see a depressive episode coming and I had techniques to ensure I got through -- kept going to work, kept making and eating food, kept myself and my home clean.
By the time I went in for my ADHD assessment I hadn't had an episode in a couple of years, and when I had they weren't particularly severe. So when I got the ADHD diagnosis and started studying what that meant, it seemed evident to me that what I'd been experiencing wasn't depression but rather exhaustion from unrecognized burnout. Which was a good thing -- it meant that with medication it probably wouldn't happen much or if it did it would be very mild.
But it turns out that clinical depression and ADHD can coexist! All discovery is useful, but this one was a real pain in the ass.
For the last couple of weeks I haven't had a ton of energy for doing anything, in a way that I recognize from previous episodes. The coping mechanisms did kick in; I pulled way back on chores and hobbies, focused on keeping caught-up with my job, made sure I was doing the minimum level of cleaning and didn't worry too much that I wasn't doing more. Looked after the cats, made time and saved energy for socializing. Didn't have much energy for longform writing but I had enough focus to work on short stories, so I messed around with those.
I'm okay in the specific way where I'm not a harm to myself or others and perfectly competent to run my own life, I'm just not real happy about any of it.
The longer I go managing my mental health and the ADHD, the more important the "show jumper" metaphor I came up with has become for me. Because yeah, firing on all cylinders and with Adderall I can basically do any task I aim myself at -- but with depression, even with the medication, it pulls backwards into "Okay, well, I guess put the horse over the jumps it'll take, not the ones you want it to take."
But I've been maintaining decently and this morning it turned out I wanted to cook a bunch of food, so even though what I really need to be doing is mopping the floor and vacuuming the rugs, I'll take "cooking enough pizza sauce to drown a small animal while boiling some pasta" and "making a nice loaf of beer bread". And hopefully the burst of energy means it's resolving itself, and the floors will get done sometime this week when I don't have to be baking bread or making pasta salad.
I'm very carefully saving my second daily Adderall dose until I'm ready to do the massive stack of dishes the cooking led to. Gonna take this horse over the goddamn dishes jump whether it likes it or not.
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My heart goes out to every single member of the Quackity Studios team, both former and current, that have had their lives ruined due to the negligent and abusive behavior of their higher-ups. I’m heartbroken for you both as a fellow creative and as a human being with a goddamn moral backbone. The lack of respect I’ve seen accounts of over the past several weeks appalls me, and that’s what this whole thing boils down to. Respect.
Respect has not been given to Quackity Studios employees. No communication, no professionalism. Working conditions that are illegal in several countries. Lack of accountability and action. The employees deserve better than to have their hard work and their passion and love for the project wasted working for people who just don’t seem to give a damn.
If there are any Quackity Studios employees following me who haven’t spoken out of fear or because of that freaky bogus NDA, just know that it will get better. You are all massively talented individuals and you WILL get that big break you’ve been waiting for, I just know it!!
There isn’t much the rest of us can do but support the admins during this time, but I wish you all the best in the world. You are worth so much more than what you have gotten, and your minds are beautiful. Don’t let the burnout and stress get to you. For this, just like everything else, is just a moment in time. It’ll be better soon, and we’ll all be supporting you until soon happens.
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Hi!
Could you please write a headcanon on how Canada, Russia, Germany, Prussia and England (with England both Arthur and Alice) would react on coming home wile their s/o dozed off on the couch from exhaustion?
Oooooh a chance for some fluff. Here you go 🌟
🇨🇦 Canada 🇨🇦
He would find it cute that you’re splayed all over the couch like an exhausted polar bear after a massive brunch. He would boop your nose and see how many times he can get away with doing so before you wake up. He will even pull out a counter. It takes him a minute to realize that many papers are crowded behind you on the couch. When you finally become conscious, you immediately recognize the concern on his face. You explain that the latest project that will need to be completed by mid-spring has a few issues that have come up. Matthew will offer to make you a hot drink and run your nightly bath. He will put his nose to yours and say:
“I love you my sweet maple.”
🇬🇧 England 🇬🇧
“How adorable,” He will say to himself as he enters the living room that had dimming light from the early evening sun. He snaps his fingers and flying mint bunny appears in a paparazzi outfit. The green bunny was ready to get the scoop. He took impromptu photos while you were in your deep slumber. Arthur saves these photos for a secret scrapbook that he may or may not show you one day. He will walk over to get a better view of your beautiful face. As he removes some of the hair from your face, he can see that the bags under your eyes have expanded over the last few months. He worried about your increasing workload and some of the other things that have been happening in your life. Arthur will stroke your face gently and leave you with a kiss on the cheek.
“I suppose I should prepare some tea.”
🏴🌼 England Nyo! 🌼🏴
Each time she comes home to you she considers herself lucky. A sense of ease washes over her as you slept soundly on the couch. However, Alice is a bit of a worrywart when it comes to you. You’d been coming home to pass out on the couch daily for the past few weeks. She placed her hand on top of your forehead to make sure you weren’t running a fever. Once she sees that the coffee table is covered in books, documents, and highlighters, she immediately knows the testing season is underway. Alice still thought working this much wasn’t normal, but she was eager to see you achieve your dreams. Out of love and valuing it higher above her ego, she’ll give France a call and ask for assistance in making an incredible meal that tastes great and gets you your energy back.
🇩🇪 Germany 🇩🇪
He’s not so great at describing what his heart feels so a smile graces his face as well as the sudden appearance of butterflies and Edelweiss. This is his standard reaction since most can’t relax within his presence. However, as he came over so that he could have a better view of you he was concerned. A pen was held in your fist while you were face down on some papers as your lungs dragged in oxygen. Ludwig accidentally stepped on some of the documents that had fallen to the floor. This will give him pause and make him question just how strenuous your job has become for you lately. As you let out a yawn and turn yourself over, Ludwig can’t help but admire you for a few moments as you continue your slumber. He will organize your papers and leave you to slumber soundly.
🐥 Prussia 🐥
Gilbert will rouse you from your slumber as he shouts your name loudly as soon as he gets through the door. When he comes to you on the couch, he takes notice of your extremely messy hair, indentations of your skin from the couches’ pillows, and dried-up drool.
“Wow, someone had an insanely crazy nap! You look like you haven’t slept in weeks! Vhats going on with you lately?”
Once you explain that the combination of school and work is beginning to make you reach burnout, Gilbert will be quick to offer to help you with chores. He wants you to be successful and not quit what you’ve started. He will aggressively tussle your hair and pinch your cheeks as he looks you dead in your eyes and says:
“Remember that tassel is worth the hassle!”
🇷🇺 Russia 🇷🇺
Ivan heard you drop like a Nordmann fir passing out in an empty forest. He couldn’t react right away since he was in the middle of a Zoom meeting with his boss. Once he came into the living room to see that you’d already reached the cavernous depths of slumber, he decided it was best to keep you there. A shiver caught his eye as you shifted in your sleep. The late winter frost had taken a bite out of you. Ivan reaches for the blankets draped on the back of the couch. He couldn’t let you freeze, but he also couldn’t let you reach burnout, either. Ivan had noticed that you’d been giving it your all in your career, but you’d never had any energy to spare when you’d gotten home. It was a conversation for a later time, but he kept it in the back of his mind as he took a moment to take in your sleeping face that the winter air had kissed. His giant bear paw hands warm your cheeks as he kisses your forehead. Before he leaves you to rest, he lit up the fireplace to ensure your comfort.
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Free Fall
Summary: Tony Stark arranges for an Avengers Teambuilding Day at a local amusement park. Loki had been hoping to avoid it -- he's had enough thrills to last a lifetime, he has no desire to seek out more -- but you and your endearing enthusiasm for roller coasters convince him to come along. However, the free fall drop tower you start out with turns out to be a bit more thrilling than he bargained for.
Word Count: 3,482
Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader
A/N: Drags self out of the grave and awkwardly waves
So it's been a minute since I posted lol. Those of you who follow may be aware that I recently graduated from college with the Final Semester From Hell that involved my computer hard drive dying on me in class and causing me to lose not only forty pages of my honors thesis two weeks before it was due, but also almost every WIP I had been working on in the past four years because I am an idiot who chronically forgets to back things up :D I did make it through college, but between stress, burnout, depression, and the death of any motivation to work on anything because of having to restart from the beginning for all of my projects, I went a while without writing anything. But I'm slowly getting back into it -- I have several projects in the works and I'm hoping to get back to posting more regularly. This fic was a short piece that I had started prior to the computer death that I had a lot of physical notes on so they weren't lost when my hard drive decided to yeet itself into the sun. I'm not entirely happy with it, but honestly it feels so good to finally finish something that I don't care.
Anyways, sorry for the obnoxious A/N. Thank you so much for reading!
Warnings: PTSD, flashbacks, panic attack, a bit of motion sickness?
Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian @imnotrevealingmyname @electroma89 @lokislittlesigyn @moumouton4 @theredrenard @justdontmindmetm @lostgreekgod @naterson
If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :) (I also realize that this taglist is Old so if I need to update it please let me know)
Read it on Ao3!
Standing in the shadow of the great tower, heart thudding in his throat, Loki is suddenly aware that he’s made an enormous mistake.
Next to him, Stark whistles. “This is what you usually start with?”
You grin up at the spire, a massive construction of electric green cutting through the cloudless sky. Two elevators, one on either side, are creeping slowly up the length of the tower. They linger at the top for just a moment before plunging back down to Earth, their occupants screaming. Loki feels ill just watching, but you’re practically vibrating in place. “It’s good to get the blood pumping.”
He can’t bring himself to look at you.
It’s your fault that he’s here. Loki hadn’t planned to come today at all. A day spent outside in the sweltering summer sun, following Stark’s gaggle of misfits onto various machines designed to fling mortals from side to side to simulate the feeling of a near death experience? Loki couldn’t imagine anything more torturous. Thor’s begging and cajoling received nothing in response. No, he hadn’t the slightest intention of coming today, not until last night, when he came across you restocking the main refrigerator.
“Are you excited for tomorrow?” you had asked as you arranged rows of Red Bull on the top shelf. “I can’t wait to take you guys around Rapid Rails—I’ve been begging Mr. Stark to do a teambuilding day there ever since he hired me.”
Your eagerness caught him off guard— as Stark’s personal assistant, you had been present at all of his godforsaken teambuilding events, but Loki had never known you to be particularly excited about any of them. “I … I wasn’t aware you had such an attachment to it.”
“Oh yeah—I grew up just down the street from there!” You beamed at him, breaking down the cardboard box you had used to carry the cans. “We used to have season passes – they were way cheaper when I was a kid – and we’d just go there to hang out all the time. Gosh it was so fun. And now I get to go for work!” You let out a merry laugh. “I guess some things never change, right?”
Loki huffed a soft chuckle. He had never seen you like this before, practically bubbling over in excitement. It was … rather endearing. “I suppose not.”
“You are coming, right? Thor said you hadn’t made up your mind yet.”
Were the circumstances different, Loki might have scoffed. Hadn’t made up your mind yet—Norns, his brother lived in denial. Instead though, he hesitated. “I … I’m afraid I hadn’t planned on it.”
“Really?” The way your face fell actually hurt his chest. “Why not?”
“I—” He glanced away, pressing his lips together. “I’m not sure I’m one for your roller coasters,” he said, finally. “You’d likely have a better time without me there.” It was an attempt at lightheartedness, but you only seemed more disappointed.
“Oh, that’s not true at all! I was really looking forward to—” you stopped suddenly, and when Loki looked up again, you were biting your lip with a nervous laugh. “I mean, it would be really fun if you came with us. But it’s okay if you don’t want to.”
“I suppose I could come, if you so desire.” He hoped he sounded nonchalantly cool, and that you couldn’t see the way his heart fluttered at the idea that you might want him there. “I wouldn’t wish to let you down.”
“Oh, I mean—” You looked away, the light from the refrigerator silhouetting your frame. “I don’t want to force you, if you don’t want to. You shouldn’t do it just for me.”
“No, I …” He inhaled, then smiled. “I think I would like to join you.”
And so here he is, at the base of this great metal monstrosity, intently studying the sign outside of the line entrance to avoid Thor’s knowing smirk. His brother has never worn self-satisfaction well.
DEATH DROP: THE TALLEST AND FASTEST DROP TOWER ON THE EAST COAST
The description is illustrated with a photograph of two people strapped to their seats, mouths wide in mid-scream as their hair flies every which way. Loki lets out a shaky exhale as he reads. The tower, it claims, is 400 feet tall. It reaches top speeds of 85 miles per hour. The ride itself lasts about 90 seconds in total. The measuring stand besides the entrance indicates that participants must be at least 48 inches tall.
400 feet. That doesn’t sound too terrible, he tells himself. The concept of a foot as a unit of measurement is still something he struggles to wrap his head around, but he knows that Stark Tower stands at over a thousand. So that’s not too bad. 400 feet would be a drop in the bucket, really, compared to …
No. He pushes the thought down, back into the dark recesses of his memory. None of that. Not today.
Stark smirks at him. “You’re looking green, Tommy Wiseau.”
Loki swallows, straining to maintain his stiff mask of composure. It’s bad enough to have Stark reveling in his discomfort, but now you’re looking over at him too, brow furrowed in concern, and he wishes he could melt away on the spot. “I’m quite fine.”
“Of course he is!” Thor booms, slapping his shoulder with a hearty thwack that does nothing for Loki’s stomach. “We’ve fallen from much higher heights, haven’t we, brother?”
Weightless. Breathless. Engulfed by inky nothingness, the air so thin he can’t even scream —
Loki’s smile hurts. “Yes, very true.”
“You don’t have to go, Loki,” you interject. “It’s totally okay— I have friends who love roller coasters and refuse to touch this ride. It’s a lot.”
He knows you mean it as reassurance, but he can’t stand the way you’re looking at him, as if he were a frightened child, too fragile to be brought along. Are you regretting having convinced him to change his mind? Do you feel that he’s only holding you back? Somehow, the idea that you no longer want him here is almost as sickening as the thought of the fall.
Loki huffs a breath. No. He will prove himself worthy of your coaster. “I assure you, I am fine.” His voice is more strained than he’d prefer it to be. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?”
…
The attendant seems rather starstruck as he ushers the group onto the ride—he stumbles and stammers through the explanation of the seating arrangements and the harness. Loki’s not really listening as he follows you to the left side of the cart, trying not to ignore the buzzing that seems to be settling behind his ears.
You smile up at him. “Would you rather sit on the side or in the middle?”
He frowns. “Does it make a difference?”
“Well, personally I don’t think so, but I know some people who get scared of heights think it’s easier to sit in the middle.”
“I’m not scared of heights.” The words come out far too quickly to sound believable, and he curses inwardly at himself. “I can sit on the side.”
“Are you sure?” You eye him uncertainly. “It’s okay if you—"
“I’m quite capable of managing such a seat.” He sits before you have the chance to question him again.
The seat is rather tight—Loki wonders if that’s intentional, or if it’s simply built with a smaller frame in mind. In the cart off to the right, he can hear Thor fumbling about with the attendant, and he chuckles despite himself. If he’s finding it to be a bit of a squeeze, he can’t imagine the troubles his bulky brother must be having.
It’s a momentary reprieve from his darker thoughts, and Loki is actually smiling when you warn him to sit back against the seat.
“The harness is going to be coming down soon.”
“What?”
You motion to the contraption above the cart, two plastic green masses shaped like upside down u’s that hover above your heads like the top of a clam shell. “It sits over you and keeps you from flying out of the cart.” You let out a small laugh. “It’s like the harnesses on the Quinjets, but way less cool. They also have little handles that you can hold on to if you want.”
Loki is eyeing the harnesses uncertainly. “What do you mean they’ll be coming down soon?”
“You used to have to pull it down yourself, but they have it all programmed now.” A great mechanical creak cracks through the air, and you press yourself against the back of the seat. “Oh, here it comes now!”
He frowns, mimicking your movement to sit as far back as he can. The green restraint descends slowly over his head, with a metallic groan that does not give him much faith in the construction of this monstrosity. He expects it to stop once it was hovering over his torso, but it continues until it’s pressed snuggly against his chest, pinning him to the seat. The attendant is saying something over the intercom, but Loki barely registers it over the feeling of the restraint. It’s … it’s not a painful sensation, but the firmness with which it holds … he’s been restrained before. Little flames of memory spark in the corners of his mind, flames he can’t seem to douse no matter how hard he tries.
Get it off. Get it off. Get it off.
He gives an apprehensive tug on the metal handles that now rest on either shoulder, a tug which quickly turns into a hard yank. The harness does not move. His mouth has gone dry.
“Loki?” you’re frowning at him, your head only barely visible through your own harness. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
You’re not bothered by the restraint. Of course you aren’t—how many times did you say you’ve ridden this ride? It’s fine. It’s fine. Goodness, what must you think of him, seeing him panic over the safety harness that you’ve worn hundreds of times before for fun? He nods his head, shaking away the feelings and memories and emotions and all the other thoughts that he wishes he could just wash down the drain …
“Are you sure—?”
“Perfectly,” he spits, but it comes out more snappishly than he intended, and you recoil with a look on your face that makes him despise himself.
I shouldn’t be allowed to speak.
“And enjoy your ride!” the attendant finishes with a flourish, and the thick metal cranking is all the warning you get before the cart begins to lift off from the ground. Loki’s heart jumps to his throat, pounding so fast he can’t make out the separate beats.
“This part is the scariest bit,” you yell at him over the grinding of machinery. “The anticipation kills me!”
Loki inhales. The elevator continues to rise, inching up slowly along the spire, the ground beneath their feet melting into miniature. This is alright, he tells himself. If this is the worst part of the experience, then he’ll be just fine. There’s nothing particularly frightening about it—he spoke the truth when he told you that he had never been bothered by heights. It’s all perfectly fine.
Perfectly. Fine.
Norns, they’re still going up. He risks a glance at the track above him—surely they must be close now? The movement makes him queasy, and he quickly turns back to face straight ahead. His knuckles are white from clutching the handles. The harness is digging into his chest and it takes all of his self-control not to rip it off. The elevator stutters—is this it? His breath catches, but no, they’re still going up. They seem to be slowing down though, don’t they? Or is that only his imagination?
I’m going to be ill.
They’ve stopped. That’s not in his head. Everything seems frozen in place. Why did he agree to do this? Loki presses his eyes closed. Any moment now. Any moment …
Still nothing.
His chest aches. He may have forgotten to breathe. Why have they stopped? Is something wrong? Loki turns to you—you look ecstatic, eyes crinkled with elation, mouth wide in an open grin.
“When is it going to—”
You drop.
The world goes silent. He feels it, that awful sensation in his stomach as the line goes slack and colors rush before his eyes in a blur until it all fades to darkness, airlessness, weightlessness, his lungs burning and drowning on the empty void of space—he’s falling, he’s falling again, he’s falling again oh please Norns not again—
There’s ground beneath his feet. He’s not sure where it came from. His knuckles ache. You’re talking – to him? He’s not sure, he only barely can make out your voice …
“Loki? The harness is coming up. Can you let go?”
He’s still clinging to the handles. Can he let go? He’s not sure. His body feels like lead. He pries his fingers from the metal tube and the pressure against his chest vanishes with a woosh over his head.
“There you go.” Your voice is soft, encouraging, closer than he remembered. He looks up to find you kneeling on the ground before him. You flash a nervous smile. “You alright?”
He’s not sure what to say. His instinct is to apologize, insist that yes, of course, he’s quite alright, he didn’t mean to give any impression to the contrary, everything is fine, but the words catch in his throat.
stars melting together smothering his last breath
Loki lets out a shuddering breath, settles for a nod.
“What’s the hold-up?” Stark calls out. “Barton and Romanov are waiting with the kids on the other side of the park.”
“We’re just taking a break for a minute!” Your reply is hurried. “You guys can go on, we’ll meet you there.”
“Is something wrong?” Thor sounds concerned, and—oh great—now both him and Stark are walking over to their cart. “Loki? What happened?”
“I—” But words, so often his steadfast ally, seem to be failing him right now. What happened? He has no answer; at least, none that his brother would accept. For nothing had happened, not really, and yet that was enough to send him spiraling through the fabric of reality.
He hates this. He hates feeling so weak.
Stark is chuckling. “If I knew that this was all it took to shut him up, I would have rented this place out sooner—”
Enough.
Loki forces himself to stand – far too quickly, his stomach churns at the movement, but he swallows the bile in his throat. He needs to get away. It doesn’t matter how, but he needs to not be with them. Besides him, you scramble to your feet too.
“I’m well.” His voice doesn’t sound right—it feels foreign, and thick like syrup, nothing like his own. “You may go on without me.”
“Are you certain?” Thor is frowning. “We can wait—”
Please don’t.
“I’m certain. I just need to sit for a moment.”
“There’s a bench nearby!” You’ve taken on the same cheery inflection typical of your working voice, and it adds a sense of normalcy to a distinctly abnormal situation. He’s grateful for it. “I can show you where!”
Both Stark and his brother seem reluctant to leave, but you insist that it’s fine. “I’ll call you if anything changes.”
He feels slightly steadier as he follows you to the bench—it’s just a wooden thing on the side of the concrete path, across from what appears to be a diner of some sort. You mumble something about going to get water. It’s a relief when you turn away, so you don’t see how he collapses against the seat.
There’s ground beneath his feet. Loki closes his eyes, focuses on that. There’s ground beneath my feet. The asphalt is firm, hot with the summer sun, anchoring him to reality. He lets out a breath. It feels safe.
Unless, of course, it crumbles beneath your step and flings you back into the abyss –
“Hey.” He jerks up at the sound of your voice, and the suddenness causes you to jump as well. You shift apologetically, standing in front of him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Loki swallows. How did he not hear you come up? “You didn’t.” Although it must be obvious that you did. At least you’re kind enough to allow him the lie.
You offer him a plastic cup. It’s a flimsy thing, but quite cold, relieving against his feverish skin. He takes it with a mumbled thanks, pretending he doesn’t notice how you’re studying him with a quiet sort of concern.
“Are you feeling better?” you ask after a moment.
Loki bites down on the inside of his cheek, relishing the way it stings. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s just – I mean – ” you glance down, tugging at your shirt sleeve. “I get panic attacks too.”
“I don’t—” But he stops himself, stops the urge to argue. Gives a gentle nod instead. “I’m well, thank you. I just … I need a moment to catch my breath.”
“I’m sorry …” You look away guiltily. “Death Drop is kind of a lot – we shouldn’t have done that first.”
“It’s not that. I –” He wants to explain to you. He wants you to know that he’s not usually like this—he never used to be like this, he’s strong and steady and perfectly capable of anything you could ask of him, but his voice is failing once again. Loki huffs a sigh. “You ought to go on with the others. I don’t wish to ruin your day.”
“Oh, you haven’t ruined anything. I’ve been on every ride in this park about a million times. It’s fine!” Your voice is bubbly and light as you sit down next to him on the bench. There’s something oddly comforting about the sound. “Besides, it’s bad etiquette to leave a friend by themselves at an amusement park. Buddy system and all that.”
A friend. He can only stare at you.
You falter. “Unless … unless you’d rather I left?”
“No—” Loki surprises himself with how quickly he answers. “No, I’d rather you didn’t.”
Several minutes pass in silence, the frantic beating of his heart slowly tapering off into something softer as he drinks in your presence. He’s grateful for it, grateful for how you let him soak in the quiet. Thor would never have allowed him such a moment’s peace.
He’s considering asking if you’re sure you don’t want to go on any other coasters (he feels guilty for keeping you here—perhaps he can accompany you through the queue and wait on the ground?) when you suddenly sit up stock-straight. “Oh!”
Loki frowns. “Is something wrong?”
You turn to him with a wide grin. “I just remembered they have Dole Whip here!”
“They—what kind of whip?” What sort of ride would a whip be, he wonders? A human sized slingshot, perhaps? His stomach lurches at the thought.
Luckily though, he’s proved wrong. “Dole Whip!” you giggle. “It’s like ice cream, but fruit flavored. Like there’s pineapple and strawberry and whatnot—it’s like soft serve.” You look at him with a kind of hopeful excitement. “Do you want to try some?”
Loki hums. He has yet to try soft serve ice cream, but he knows his brother practically swears by the stuff. “Is it good?”
“Supposedly. I’ve actually never tried it— we never wanted to spend money on park food when we would come as kids. It’s stupid expensive.” You smirk. “But today’s all on Mr. Stark’s dime, so…”
He chuckles. “And you would take advantage of your employer in such a fashion? I didn’t realize I had such a Machiavellian on my hands.”
“Hey, I’m just taking advantage of the opportunities presented to me!” You stand with a grin, holding your hands up in a mock surrender pose. “You can’t blame me for that, can you?”
“Oh, I’d never,” he teases as he stands, and he’s relieved to find that his legs have regained their steadiness. “I’d be honored to experience this Dole Whip with you on Stark’s expense.”
“Fantastic,” you beam. “It’s not too far from here. And it’s right next to a bunch of these little shops—they have this ridiculous giant sea monster toy that costs like $300, I can show you—”
You continue on as the both of you walk down the path, telling him all about the park’s various hidden gems and the inside jokes you and your friends have concocted around them, and Loki finds himself laughing more than not—he can’t help it, your giggles are just too infectious.
Huh. Perhaps joining you today wasn’t a mistake after all.
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Whatever She Wants; I Will Do Anything - E.M.
Eddie x fem reader
2.9K Words
Inspired by the song Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers.
Or where you’re very good at keeping your guard up and not letting others in only to crumble under the pressure. And Eddie is there to help you put the pieces back together.
Warnings - angsty, depictions of mental illness, dark thoughts
A/N - This shit is emotional and this song has been stuck in my head for days so I had to do something with it. Any feedback is appreciated 🥹
Masterlist
—
I would do anything you want me to
I would do anything for you
I would do anything, I would do anything
Whatever you want me to do, I will do
—
If you could pick the scenery to describe your own brain, it wouldn’t be a field of daisies, fresh and heavenly, or rainbows after a light summer rain, sticky but romanticized. It wouldn’t be angelic beach views with sunsets marbling the sky or even the starry night with the moon soaking the earth in its celestial light. No, these things were magnificent, pleasing to look at, easy to take in. Very unlike your brain.
Your idea would be more of a tsunami ripping everything apart, having no mercy on anything in its wake—destroying everything it touches. Emotions receding into the sea quietly before ultimately coming back in a massive wave and disrupting the quaint living of those around. Murky skies and shattered hope. People running, and running far just to avoid the disaster—the impending doom that was you. That is exactly how you’d describe your brain.
Sometimes if you were lucky there were a select few weeks in between the storms of your mind where you’d feel a sliver of relief, a drought in the ever flowing thoughts that dismantled your life. Times where there would be a glimmer of ambition and an inkling of motivation. It never lasted long, fleeing as soon as you were starting to get better. A colossal wave consuming you once again, and people would go running as they always did—the commotion of the storm too turbulent for them to brave.
And the agonizing thoughts would begin to stew at the very core of your brain. Simmering until they boiled over at random.
Too hard to love.
Useless.
Worthless.
Barely a person, a walking corpse devoid of emotion due to the burnout.
Not worthy of love.
Not worthy of anything.
I should have never even made it this far, sixteen years was my limit.
I don’t want to do this anymore, please don’t make me do this anymore.
It was all so daunting, so intimidating and heavy. It truly felt like you did not belong on this earth and there was absolutely no way to combat it other than merely surviving. Days passed and you were trapped in the endless cycle that was existing without purpose.
Your boyfriend, Eddie, sweet Eddie had a life to live and you couldn’t bear to burden him with the sorrows of your aching soul. Eventually he’d realize what a nuisance you were, how crippling your state of mind could be. He didn’t deserve to be detained by the relationship you so thought was out of pity. Ever so generous, kind, enamoring, handsome, loving, gentle, loud, assertive—everything Eddie was made of, was something you believed you never once deserved. You dreaded the day he would glance at you and come to his senses. She is too broken for me, I can’t love her.
The convincing mask you were able to automatically put on was all too familiar. Being able to physically front that you were happy when the reality of it all was that demons swam through your bloodstream and never left, only lying dormant every once in a blue moon only to come back at full force. It felt like poison, the way you would be okay one moment and suddenly in seconds you were grasping onto your sanity, clinging onto any bits of reality—of your mortal self only to be swallowed up by harsh accusations toward yourself that would have you sinking back into your bed for as long as it required. And that’s how you got so good with the mask, forcing yourself to conform to the world around you when you absolutely couldn’t rot in bed, other obligations taking priority despite the poison coursing through your body. A smile on your face, a compliment here, a joke there, sprinkled with some stupid story from the other day that always seemed to appease your audience. It was all fake and no one could sniff it out.
Until Eddie came along and he was able to detect even the slightest shift in your demeanor. Though you could throw the mask on, it didn’t always work with him and he would encourage you to take it off. You never did. Insisting I’m fine, just a little tired. Lying through your teeth. You couldn’t help it, you’d never let your guard down with anyone ever. How were you supposed to when it didn’t even feel like an option? A people pleaser to your core, you’d take your feelings with you to the grave.
The first time Eddie stumbled upon you crying, he was at a loss, not knowing how to approach the situation. Do I hug her? No, what if she doesn’t want me to? Do I hold her hand? Does she want me to leave? Did I do something? What if I made her cry? Does she want to break up? Every thought flew at him at lightning speed, practically slapping him in the face. Before any decision could be made, you sucked back the tears and used your sleeves to aggressively clear your under eyes. I’m fine, I just watched an emotional movie. Lies. Not wanting to push you further, he nodded and held you close. But he knew. You were suffering, drowning in your own fucked up world and he had no idea how to pull you out. When his own mind started suffocating him he could at least voice that he wasn’t having the best day, also being the type to never burden others with his invading thoughts. He’d leave it at that and sulk in his room but you would always sit with him, if he allowed. If not, that was okay too and he was eternally grateful.
The more he studied your behavior when you just felt off, the more he gathered the way you would often go blank during a conversation, eyes becoming void of a human and turning into a shell of yourself as you picked yourself apart internally. Anxiety looming in your eyes and hands the slightest bit shaky, he would touch his fingertips to yours in the smallest touch hoping to lure you back, praying that he didn’t overstep because god he was so scared. And when you did return, you still weren’t fully there although you claimed you were just tired. Again. He just wanted you to be happy. And you wanted to be happy.
It took almost a year into the relationship for you to even be able to ask him to come over when you wanted to just be with him. Before that it just felt like you were pestering him for attention even though that was far from the truth. You could call him just to complain about how your lunch tasted and he would savor every moment. Even still, you had your doubts about calling him or texting him, the nasty demons lurking within you telling you he didn’t care. Eddie picked up on your patterns from the very beginning and learned that the way you worded things really indicated your mood, if you were genuinely doing well or if things were bad again. A simple phrase popping up on his phone and he would bolt to you if he had the slightest inclination that you were in a pool of your own self deprecating thoughts.
Are you home? Really meant, I need you, I need you and I’m too afraid to outright say it.
Are you busy? Either meant that you wanted to go on a gas station run with him or that you wanted to vent about your family.
Want to come over? Generally translated to I’m in a good space right now and would love to spend time with you.
I love you. Told him I’m thinking about you.
Love you. Was an indicator that you were on edge, it could be because of him depending on the nature of the situation or it could just be a bad day.
Food? Was the phrase used to tell him I’m hangry and we better be getting Mexican food otherwise you better suggest something that sounds yummier.
I’m fine. Was as clear as day. I’m the opposite of fine.
So when it’s ten o’ clock at night and the cicadas are chirping outside his trailer, his fingers dancing along the neck of his guitar to a new riff he recently learned and he sees his phone light up with your name, he eagerly reaches over to pick it up and read. His eyes scan over three key words.
Are you home?
Immediately he’s setting his guitar on top of his mattress, calling you as he scrambles around his room searching for his car keys, finally locating them underneath his copy of Lord of the Rings he had been rereading earlier, tossing the book aside. The dial tone rings through his ears a few times, heart beating fast. On the other end, a meek little hey is heard along with a sniffle that you swore you would hide.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice is laced with concern while he makes his way out to the living room to collect his leather jacket.
“I-I-nothing. I just—wanted to hear your voice.” Part of it is a lie. Everything is wrong and your world is crumbling as you stare out the window lifelessly. Panic is taking over while you endure thoughts about your past, present, and future. Why did I say that one thing that one time? I’m such a bad person. I should have never been born, that way I could save everyone the embarrassment. You’re instigating yourself and there’s no sign of stopping. Eddie would be happier without you, he’s too good for you, good things don’t happen to you without a price. Bullet after bullet hits your soul.
“I’m coming over.” He tells you without giving you the option to say no, the line going silent as he hangs up. This only coaxes more humiliating things out from the depths of your brain. See what you did? You ruined his night, now he’s on his way over and he’s probably so mad. He has so many better things to be doing than sitting with a cry baby.
The sobs rack your body, chest heaving and vision completely blurred with hot tears traveling down your face. You’re shaking, the words assaulting you over and over. Even if you wanted to stop crying you couldn’t, the dam was flooded. It was an oversight on your part, you didn’t need to text Eddie but you did it out of impulse. Everything suddenly becomes so overstimulating, so gross and uncomfortable. The way your clothes hug your body makes you wince, rubbing your arms to somewhat soothe yourself but it only does so much. The clutter on your bedside table aggravates you all of the sudden but there’s not any energy to straighten it up, leaving you sitting on the bed in full on breakdown mode. You’re now way too aware of your own body, yearning to immediately cease existing. A blanket once thrown over your legs is now tossed across the room, the material now disgusting you. Everything becomes unbearable.
So unbearable that you don’t even hear Eddie using his key in your front door, the hinges squeaking as he enters, or the click of the lock as he locks it again before rushing upstairs, his boots stomping on every other step. You don’t hear the bedroom door creak open as he carefully approaches, toeing off his boots near the door and then speaking to you.
“Sweetheart, what’s goin’ on?” His tone is gentle enough to soothe a baby. Shrugging his jacket off and tossing it on a nearby chair, he slowly strides closer to the bed but still keeps his distance.
All you can do is cover your face in your pathetic palms, attempting to hide away the misery you have become. A wet and whimpered I don’t know is made out from you muffling the words into your hands. His heart shatters. All he wants to do is hold you but only if you’ll allow him to. The last thing he wants to do is make it worse. The last time he saw you cry was also the first time and you’d sucked it up and brushed it off like it never happened. This was drastically different, you were a puddle of tears and snot, sobbing uncontrollably and unable to hold back any longer.
“Baby. Look at me. Just for a minute, okay?” He’s trying to convince you but you shake your head, palms still gathering tears. “Please? Please?” He begs, voice hoarse as he tries to map out a gameplan in his head. It still falls upon deaf ears. “I need you to look at me. If I’m going to help you, you need to look at me.” He leans over the bed attempting to catch your eyes. “I need you.” He speaks desperately, his own eyes becoming wet. For some reason, the phrase makes you stop for a second, makes you freeze. If he needed you, then you were going to give him anything he wanted, anything he needed. It was some type of reverse psychology that he hadn’t even realized he performed. You were falling apart but the moment he begged for help you stopped everything to be by his side.
Shock written in his features, he looks at you while you look at him, big doe eyes full of anxiety and worry. The atmosphere was stagnant at that moment. Hiccups erupted out of you but your full undivided attention was on him. He pondered his next moves carefully, not wanting to scare you off or chase you back into your corner. His next words were spoken with the utmost care.
“Tell me what you need me to do.” His voice was shaky and his eyes blinked rapidly. “I—I’ve never done this before. Please tell me what you need.” His voice wobbled on the last few words as you tried to process everything. “Whatever you want me to do, I will do.” The way his tone wavered broke you, choking out a sob before stopping yourself. You did this to him. So you force yourself to provide an answer, it’s the least you could do.
Voice cracking, you reply “Hold me.” The dam continues flooding, sending a river down your cheeks. He’s quick to crawl across the bed and gather you in his arms like the most fragile thing he’s ever held. Arms wrap around your middle to pull you in between his legs, pulling your back flush against his chest as you then maneuver your body to curl into him like he’s your bunker, face buried in his chest and trembling hands fisting his shirt.
“I’m right here, I’ve got you. I’m here.” Whispered reassurances against the top of your head as you soak his shirt in a mixture of tears and snot. He lets you cry for as long as you need, as long as you want.
“I’m always here for you. Okay? I would do anything for you.” He promises, stroking your back soothingly, placing a kiss to your temple. Everything about you is so ugly in the moment and yet, he’s so patient and warm. So attentive and loving. His gestures begin to chip at the walls you built around yourself so long ago. It would take time but he’s made the first cracks in those sturdy walls and he would spend forever helping you tear them down.
The sobs and hiccups begin to settle down, not completely but enough that you have some composure. Your wide eyes stare into his kind ones. You’re forced to recognize the unconditional love swimming in his eyes. The genuine concern for your well being and his necessity for your comfort and happiness.
“I love you.” An offer through your tears of that same love on a silver platter that he would gladly indulge in. Hand brushing against the bottom of your chin, tilting it ever so slightly while the other rests on the small of your back, he delivers a nudge of his nose against yours, a piece of his heart.
“I love you. I will always love you.” His words have a greater meaning, an oath that even through the bad times, the times where you were isolated and hated yourself, kicking yourself to the curb, he would be right there to help you back up. A brush of his thumb against a rogue tear on your cheek has you hanging onto his every action. The way he continues to use his thumbs to clean up any remnants of sadness that had been acquired over the last hour or so. How his lips curl up in fondness when you brush your fingertips along his stubbly cheek. A whispered thank you against his skin. When he lays back and pulls you onto his chest, his breathing lulling you into a post cry sleep that you very well needed, one hand running up and down your back and the other tracing shapes into your arm—calloused fingers providing every bit of comfort needed. How his lips press a kiss to your forehead. The scary thoughts were at bay for now and Eddie would without a doubt help you to battle them the next time they invaded your mind, whether it be tomorrow or next week. His words have you melting, insides gooey and sticky when he thinks you’re fast asleep but you’re really still clinging onto these last waking moments as you mold into each other.
“You’re everything I could ever ask for. I would do anything for you.”
~end~
Masterlist
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Quality Time (Luke Sullivan ⭐ x Reader)
[Context: Established romantic relationship, Reader is the MC for World Tour, Pre-Italy World Tour spoilers, Fluff]
(a/n: Finally, I WROTE SOMETHING! I'm very sorry this took so long to finally get out, finals are kind of kicking my ass. But alas, I got to finish a fluffy fic with this boi. He's hands down my fave from the base roster, his personality's just.. right up my alley. Hope you guys enjoy this one!)
Ah, relaxing days like these were always the best kind. After yet another grueling training session with Chun-Li, with a sprinkle of getting defeated at video games by Li-Fen, laying down on your couch while watching TV was the best way to relax after a long day of running around in Metro City. There was literally nothing that could possibly interrupt this very chill moment…
…Until you hear the very familiar noise of footsteps from one massive dumbass approaching your relaxed frame. You close your eyes, awaiting a nudge on the shoulder from the man of the hour. What you get instead is a small poke on your cheek, which forces a small chortle out of you. In response, you get another poke. You open a single eye to look smugly at Luke, kneeling down in front of your field of view, away from the TV. Seeing that you’re pretending not to care for his presence, Luke puffs his cheeks and begins to repeatedly boop your cheek, almost reminiscent of a dog asking to be fed.
With an amused sigh, you finally turn to look at him. “Yes, honey?” Placing his head on top of his hands while pouting childishly, Luke responds: “I’m bored, babe.” You sit up from your spot to look directly at him. “And what do you suggest we do about it?” Luke places his head on top of your lap, and you can’t help but hold in a snicker. He gets annoyingly adorable when he’s pouty, you can tell he’s missed you from how long you were out the house. “Play a fighting game with me?”
You can’t help but sigh while patting his head. “As much as I would love to take you up on that, I was destroyed by Li-Fen earlier. I’m kind of burnt out right now.” Luke groaned in response. “Please? I promise I’ll go easy on ya.” “Said the Burnout King. Going easy on me is not your play style, and we both know this, handsome.”
You half expect him to simply huff at your mocking nickname and nuzzle closer. But to your surprise (and sort of delight), your boyfriend proceeds to pick you up from the couch to give you a massive bear hug. “Is it that bad of a thing that I wanna spend quality time with my babe? I haven’t seen ya all day…” Luke says, nuzzling into you. Trying to calm down your racing heart, you hug him back. “I know, sweetheart, I’ve missed you too. Training under Chun-Li has just been a bit of a hassle lately. I want to learn as much as I can from her, y’know?” Pulling back from the hug to give you some space, Luke smiles gently at you. “Yeah, I get it. I can’t teach you absolutely everything about fighting just by myself. Your quest for strength comes first, right?” You shrug with a small chuckle at his last comment.
Suddenly, you feel an idea pop up like a cartoon-y light bulb. “You know what, actually… I was going to see if I could meet up with another fighter soon. And… She’s kind of far away from here...?” Before your boy could get pouty all over again, you raised a hand to continue your proposal. “And, I know how much you like traveling.” Arching an eyebrow with one of his signature goofy smiles, Luke places a hand over one of his ears as if to try to listen better. “And…?” “And, something tells me that her fighting style might be right up your alley.” With that, he crosses both of his arms with a determined smile. “I already like the sound of this.” “To finish my proposal… Have you gone to Italy? And have you heard of pankration?”
With a clap and some finger guns, Luke smiles like the fricking sun while wandering around the place. What he usually does when he gets excited. “Now we’re talking! When can we go? Should we get packing? I can pack your stuff if ya want, just tell me what t-“ You placed your hands over his shoulders in an attempt to calm him down. “Honey, honey, not yet. We gotta plan the whole thing first. You know how it is.” “Yeah, of course! Sorry, it’s just… It’d be our first time traveling together and I’m just… excited, y’know?”
Wait. Holy shit, it would be the first time. In fact, it would be the first in a long time for you as well. For the last few months, it’s just been Luke and Chun-Li, and Metro City so far. But you needed to expand your horizons, and if it took a threat from a Mad Gear Gang member to do so, then so be it. That would be difficult to explain to him; heck, you weren’t even sure if Marisa would be at all willing to accept your request to be taught by her, or help you acquire the missing charm. But you were willing to at least try, and if it didn’t go well, you had an entire country you could explore and have fun in with your boyfriend.
Like he said it himself, you can cross that bridge when you get to it! Most likely tomorrow, but tonight all that is on your mind is the picture of spending a nice vacation with the man you loved the most. Breaking yourself out of your train of thought with a sigh, you smiled gently at Luke. “It is. I’m also very excited.”
Then, with a smirk, you grabbed the remote controller and paused your show. “So excited in fact, I think I managed to gather the energy… To try and kick your ass at a fighting game a couple times.” Luke’s eyes begin to almost sparkle with excitement, instantly running to your console to put the game on. “Oh, hell yeah! Bet ya I can manage to not go on Burnout a single time! See if your lovely title for me actually stands up!” You grab your controller then sit down on the couch with a confident smile. “Oh, it will. Bet your precious bag of sour cream and onion chips that it will.” Luke plopped himself down on the couch, almost knocking you down but also bringing a laugh out of you. “Oh. It. Is. On, babe.”
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Love Next Door spoilers below (and ranting that is not friendly to Seunghyo's character so if you don't want to partake, scrolling is free)!
It's actually so annoying how there are so many dramas that people love and adore that I just can't be obsessed with due to being a 34 year old with a fully formed frontal lobe and at least a decade of being treated terribly by men lol
Like I wanted to be obsessed with Love Next Door. I genuinely enjoyed the first like 4 episodes. I need to start out by saying the acting is incredible and I would die for Mo-eum and the reporter and his daughter. I deeply related to Seokryu as a burnt out older daughter with a difficult relationship with her mom and all of her family's expectations. I loved that in the first 4 episodes you could see that yes, while they did bicker, the genuine friendship and care was still there. And I typically love a "he fell first" moment. BUT...here is where my issues come into play.
I cannot fucking stand when it's a friends to lovers story and the man falls first and then goes on to treat the FL like actual dogshit bc she's not living up to the expectations in his head. Like Seokryu does not know that Seunghyo likes her. She continues to treat him like he's her lifelong friend that she deeply cares about. And at every single turn, he is acting like a petulant child. You can say "ohhh but he does all this stuff for her when she's not looking! it's so cuteeeee." I don't care. To her face, he keeps telling her things like that she needs to grow up and leave the past behind. When she brings him the food she makes on the first day of class and he turns it down in such a mean way and then gets all pissed off and jealous when her ex eats her food? I was so annoyed. He had ten fucking years to tell her he liked her and yes...timing was off and things were fucked, but that doesn't mean you can treat someone like that who has no idea why you're behaving like that. She looks so hurt and confused. And he gets mad at her for everything and instead of being an adult and communicating or just idk having the thought of like "oh my crush is my fault I can't take it out on her" he continues to be a dick. Telling her she needs to move on and they can't be close or whatever like he wasn't the one who remodeled her room and moved back to his parents as soon as she came back to Korea. Like he wasn't the one who told her the time capsule letter was a joke.
Idk maybe bc I've had close guy friends before who like ended up treating me like shit bc I allegedly friend zoned them when I genuinely thought we were friends but they got it into their heads that I owed them sex bc we were friends...but I can't handle that shit. If you cannot get your shit together and confess or if you cannot get over your feelings and treat a woman with the same respect you'd treat any friend, then it's hard for me to root for you. Also like...y'all ever notice that when women have unrequited feelings, we don't tend to be assholes to the person we have the feelings for? Bc we don't automatically assume we deserve their love and attention?
Also, even before he finds out about her diagnosis, he knows that she's at least going through a massive break up, work burnout and quitting a job and also moving back home - like if he's allegedly her best friend...why does he treat her like that when she's going through it? If he loves her so much, how is he making this like super rough time in her life completely about him? I get it - he also has trauma and was raised with parents who do not talk and that I'm sure has informed his life. I understand. Truly. BUT!!! While trauma can be a reason for your actions, it is not an excuse to then go ahead and be a dick to people around you.
Also...his reaction to her diagnosis...once again making it about himself and his hurt? That is not the move. I don't care if he is scared and angry and hurt. I don't give a fuck about his feelings. SHE HAD CANCER!!!!!!! AND HER ALLEGED BEST FRIEND WHO LOVES HER CALLED HER PATHETIC!!!!!!! HELLO?????
If that happened to a friend of mine, I would hunt that man down and beat him to a pulp.
Once again, I will say that the acting is amazing. I love Jung Haein and Jung Somin. BUT when thinking of this stuff in reality, I just was getting so mad every episode. There are so many ways to get around or get over feelings without being an absolute asswipe.
Sorry I needed to rant bc I haven't seen one post of anyone thinking anything is wrong with his behavior. Just tons of posts talking about his feelings...weirdly enough, I've seen people call Seokryu selfish. Love how that happens.
Anyways, I'm gonna wait for the fanfic where Seokryu ends up with his ex and they live a beautiful lesbian life making beautiful pottery and beautiful food and beautiful love.
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On ADHD
ADHD is all about momentum. If someone with ADHD is excited/upset/any strong emotion, they can easily forget WHAT caused those emotions- but just because they don't remember WHY they're feeling something, doesn't mean those feelings will just vanish.
Let me put it to you this way; Imagine a person driving a car. They know exactly where they want to go. Both of their hands are on the wheel and they know exactly how to drive. It's something they do all the time with no problem. That person does not have ADHD. We'll call them NT (neurotypical).
Now, imagine another person in another car. They know exactly where they want to go. Both of their hands are on the wheel and they know exactly how to drive. This person has ADHD.
They are both going to the same place, on the same route, with the same obstacles in front of them. They start exactly the same in every way. But imagine that as soon as both people start their journey, the ADHDer's arms just suddenly vanish. No hands to steer the wheel. But they're still barreling forward at full speed with no sign of stopping. They slam their face onto the steering wheel, trying to stay on course the best they can. Instead of slowing down, they have now picked up even more speed. And they're now able to crash their way through every obstacle in their path. This desperate attempt at staying on course with no decent way to steer is plowing them through every obstacle. And even though they're keeping up with the NT, the NT never lost their arms and is easily avoiding every obstacle. And the NT assumes that simply because the ADHDer is keeping up, that there's no problem at all. In fact, they might even think that the ADHDer's "superpower" looks fun. But as they continue on their course, the ADHDer is getting more and more banged up with every obstacle they crash through. And, after a while…. They finally lose momentum. And in the span of a few seconds, the ADHDer goes from "easily" making their way through everything to being near or almost near paralysis. We call this Burnout.
People with ADHD have grown accustomed to the fact that at random moments of their life -without so much as a warning- their arms will suddenly vanish. And because NT's think that they're fine just because the ADHDers are keeping up, they never notice that we're just BARELY keeping up and we're destroying ourselves to get there.
It's not that ADHDers don't know how to slow down -although that in itself is a massive obstacle- when an ADHDer's arms vanish, they pick up speed, attempting to keep up with everyone else. Which -more often than not- is painful, terrifying, desperate, and hurting us.
I know I went a little off-course with this explanation, but my arms fell off halfway through. Basically, ADHDers are always intense because even though we forget things all the time, our emotions don't vanish. We're all screaming and crying while driving with our faces, down a course that's on fire, so please have patience. We're trying our best to keep up.
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⛓ METALCHAINSAWKILLER ASKS REPLIED ⛓
a few days ago I hosted a Q&A session about Nina on my Instagram, there were several interesting questions so I decided to repost them here with the answers
Would Nina sell Kidd for a beer?
If he pissed them off, totally.
Favorite candy flavor?
Bubblegum
Fav food?
Corn dogs
Hobbies?
Tomb raiding, causing mayhem, dissection, comic books
Height?
5' / 1m52
Fav weapon?
A chainsaw called pussy slayer
Is she a "fight first, ask questions later" kind of person?
It mostly depends if she's on unhinged mod or not. She's pretty calm and reserved, almost shy usually. But when bloodthirst hit? Yeah definitely.
How did they adopt Zap?
They found him in a dumpster at Thriller Bark, badly injured, with a missing paw and a missing leg. They immediately fall for it and decided to rescue them. Zap virtually never leaves Nina's side, earning by Kid and Killer the title of "cockblock"
Does she have a family? What's her story before Thriller Bark?
She was basically raised by Hogback, the same way Perona was raised by Moria. Hogback adopted her when she was about 13 years old. She didn't have any parents (dead mother, absent father, classical pirate shit), and at the orphanage her morbid fascinations and anger issues dissuaded any potential adoptive parents, until Hogback found her - she basically saw him as a savior at the moment. In the main time, she started developped romantic feelings toward Perona, her only real friend back in time, and the two of them started dating.
When she did a burnout because of everything that was happening at Thriller Bark Hogback basically just... Threw her away. Completely broken she begged Perona to leave Thriller Bark with her but Perona refused. Nina developped severe abandon fear & trust issues after that.
How did they start dating with Kid & Killer? Who was the first?
Kid & Killer were kinda already together when they met Nina - even if they were in MASSIVE denial at the moment ("is it gay to spoon your bro every night? IS IT GAY TO [redacted]?? - you see.)
Kid, being Kid and basically an hormonal teenager dry humping on everything who can consent, obviously immediately tried to get in their pants. She wasn't really interested at first, trust issues and stuff. Feelings start to grow between them as they learned to know about each other - Nina's opinion about Kid changing when he talked to her about Victoria, mostly.
On the other hand, Nina almost immediately crushed on Killer. His devotion and loyalty to Kid and the crew, combined with his soft and caring side made wonders on her relationship issues. On the other hand Killer's protective instincts kicked in when he saw how vulnerable and fragile she was behind the sass.
They started to date and OBVIOUSLY Kid was pissed off because 1) "EH I CALLED DIBS" 2) "WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN'T SUCK KILLER'S DICK ANYMORE?!!"
things went REALLY messy between the three of them for a while before they realized that
"Eh! the three of us love each other! why choosing!"
What's their relationship with Osha?
Very complicated actually. Due to their past, Nina tends to be VERY insecure & possessive when it come to its boys, with impressive and explosive jealousy outburst, so when Osha got closed with Killer, she didn't take it well AT ALL. When they saw how Osha were commited to Law, they started accepting it and let them have their fun with Killer, but it's still complicated and ask them a lot of willpower.
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hello, i’m alive, surprisingly. i’m sure most of you (at least my beloved mutuals) have noticed that i’ve been gone for a while, maybe opening tumblr to scroll and reblog here and there. i’ve been busy working on a.. project that might be over my ability, patience and communication skills a little and….. well, very lightly, has simply brought me a massive burnout and art block. it sucks. and i hate it because i’m craving creating things real bad
recently i’ve been trying to work through it, it’s taking time and i’m probably still recovering from the same thing from last year so let’s see how it’ll turn out being layered like this 0.oooo
the worst part is is that i’ve been.. missing a lot of stuff.. here i mostly mean sky, since most of you guys know me for my love of it….. it’s genuinely made me cry when i realized i missed igc items for the first time ever and even though they’ll return in a year it just made it clear to me that i’m in a bad place at the moment
even trying to just post this (hello me from 2 days ago who started this) makes me nervous. but what do you know, lots of stuff is happening in sky and i gotta get my shit together if i want to get any of it, so i gotta make commission posts (i believe one will basically be uploaded right after this). if you're seeing this from the commission post? dont worry, i will make you what you want quickly and efficiently. i guess im just nervous that i've been forgotten or made my friends here believe im ignoring them which isnt the case. i love you all, lets hope i can keep this up (staying alive and drawing)
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REFORM PARTY "MANIFESTO" 2024 SUMMARY
they say it ain't a manifesto even though it is. they're tryna pretend they're not politicians even though they are. their reasoning is that they know they won't be the next government, so this is what they'd push for as opposition members - just like in the manifestos of the greens, SNP etc. but anyway, this "contract" of theirs is scant and they're running a vibes-based campaign. you don't need to see any actual policies, no no no. you already know if they're for you or not. oh, and if you think they're for you - just like all far right parties, they ain't: they're for capital, they're for vested interests, they're for cruelty. they're for the classic quasi-accelerationist burnout cycle that'll weaken the base of society and the economy and ruin fucking everything. but hey, at least there won't be no immigrants. i'm so sorry if you see them as the future: they're taking you for a ride just as you've been used time and time again, because there is no clearly accessible political solution to improving your material conditions as current politics stand, i'm sorry - that is, within the paradigm you know - there're answers just outside the tunnel-vision you've been forced into. why not take a look sometime. who knows, you might find some hope.
i'm not shitting you, though. the manifesto is not long. go read it. see for yourself the draconian horror they advocate, and will push for these five years, and will endorse with the hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of Short Money coming their way after they get into parliament. this isn't a 2015 UKIP moment, a single-issue agenda that'll flame out. even if they fail in their 2029 campaign with no votes against the tories to count on, these ideas and their influence are here to stay for the medium-term now. even if we remove the rosethorn it'll keep bleeding and bleeding and bleeding
yeah, on account of the scantness, these policies are vague. they're much more like ideas rather than proposals. the general nonsense of them has been fact-checked time and time again so i won't bother. here's just a summary of their rambling ephemeral suggestions
💷ECONOMY
revoke benefits after four months, MANDATORY acceptance of the second job offer on pain of benefit revocation, make all eligibility capability assessments in-person, mandating medical assessments, to catastrophically reduce disability benefit entitlements
raise the personal allowance to §20k/a, cutting individual taxation by §1600/a. raise it to §25k for the married
raise the second band of income tax from about §50k to §70k cutting an ABHORRENT amount of tax from the upper-middle class, far far far far far more than the tax cuts on §20k-earners
leave the World Economic Forum, plummet corporation tax from its already international tax-haven low levels, abolish any business tax for "high-street based" small businesses to create a new class of fat cat burghers, VAT refund for businesses making under §150k/a profit no matter what it is they're flogging
revoke european trade agreements and collapse trade with the mainland
massive tax breaks for defence contractors
'frontload' the child benefit system, plunging it after the child turns four
pour money into giving tourists a full refund on VAT
surge the inheritance tax threshold to §2m BUT "allow the money to be donated to charity instead" (ie allowing massive loophole scams)
massive deregulation, including on the regulation of business and employment laws as "we must make it easier to hire and fire". the manifesto also whines about "6700 eu laws" that still stand, but whines and moves on, implying a mass unbounded deregulation of industry
🏥PUBLIC SERVICES
abolish the NHS and replace it with a private voucher system
catastrophic austerity: every government department to be removed of a 5% of its funding that it must account for itself, reducing spending across the board without central planning or oversight
catastrophic statecapture: abolish civil service leadership and replace them with politicised government appointees "from the private sector"
catastrophic hike on university entry requirements and mandate many be cut to two years
catastrophic privatisation of the remaining public healthcare with surge in outsourcing and contracting, 20% total tax relief for private healthcare
statecapture the BBC with full nationalisation
comprehensive curriculum audit to impose "patriotic education": mandate "any teaching about a period or example of british or european imperialism or slavery must be paired with the teaching of a non-european occurrence of the same to ensure balance", teach children about "their heritage"
public inquiry on "the harm of vaccines"
leave the WHO
end the exemption private schools from the 20% VAT. wait, wait no hang on i've got that wrong. oh right yeah, that's labour's policy, sorry. reform says to impose a 20% TAX RELIEF ON PRIVATE SCHOOLS. sorry peasants, your tax money is funding Eton now
🏠HOUSING
catastrophic tax breaks for small landlords
revoke the renters reform bill
abolish stamp duty (the tax on the buying of homes) under §750k and plummet it above that mark, allowing obscene wealth transfers, massive property buyup, catastrophic housing supply saturation, and the annihilation of first-time buying
🚄TRANSPORT ?
ban and abolish low emission zones
ban and abolish low traffic neighbourhoods
ban and abolish all 20mph zones except outside schools
lower petrol tax
👮FORCE
abolish the human rights act
abolish the equality act
leave the european convention on human rights
freeze "non-essential immigration", and they do not elaborate what they mean or what the policy definition is to be. so they're just gonna be rambling about ephemera to kingdom come. that's the game they're playing
10% HEAD TAX ON IMMIGRANTS via additional national insurance charge
REVOCATION OF CITIZENSHIP FROM IMMIGRANT UK CITIZENS COMMITTED OF CRIMES, without specifying whether or not this applies only to dual-citizens, meaning reform supports the mass imposition of STATELESS status, A GRAVE AND ABHORRENT CRIME AGAINST HUMANITY
invade france. i'm being serious. they'd intercept and arrest small-boat crossers and 'take them back to france', violating french territorial sovereignty on both land and sea via the use of force, gravely violating international law against our neighbour
FORTY THOUSAND new police in five years, around 25% more, massively prioritise pipelining ex-military officers and enlistees into the police, abolish PCSOs and make them regular broken-windows police
labour camps for young offenders
create a US-style coast guard and begin routine patrols for migrants or foreign fishers
surge armed forces funding by the highest amount proposed by any party
"stop Sharia law being used in the UK", ie draconian monitoring of mosques, muslim community organisations, the palestine movement, and any muslim
absolute prohibition on asylum applications from "safe countries", sentencing desperate seekers to political persecution and death by mere categorical definition
increase stop-and-search powers, mandates and centrality in policing tactics, pursue broken windows policing,
MANDATORY MINIMUM OF LIFE for second violent/serious offences or ANY drug dealing, new offence for 'substantial possession of drugs'
catastrophically demolish the legalised definition of hatecrime to de facto prevent its use for any prosecution
mass prison building, convert disused military bases into prison camps
bad internet bill: massive inquiry into 'child social media use' (under their watch requiring catastrophic restrictions), renew the online safety bill as "social media giants that push baseless transgender ideology and divisive critical race theory should have no role in regulating free speech"
abolish the northern ireland framework, seemingly unilaterally, paving the way for a hard border and blowing the starting whistle on The Troubles 2
speaking of which: exempt the armed forces from human rights law
catastrophically plummet the number of student visas and prohibit international students with dependents
end funding for european defence programmes. sorry estonia looks like you're lost. oh also "the west provoked putin" so there's that
require the licensing of foreign trawlers in the eez, beginning a cold war with iceland
halve international development / foreign aid funding from its already tiny budget, with specific mention of "global quangos" (literally how many centuries has it been and antisemitism is STILL invoked by these pillocks)
🌱ECOCIDE
repeal every penny of green investment
abolish all emissions targets including for all public services
abolish all renewable energy subsidies
mandate the use of fertile land for farming, ban natural england from protecting 'farmland' land, end and ban all rewinding programmes
abolish environmental levies
catastrophic surge on oil/gas licensing and open new lithium and coal mines, and support biomass/biofuel
🗳️DEMOCRACY ?
begin trumpist restriction on the ability to vote
abolish all postal voting apart from the elderly and disabled
keep voter ID
"legislate to stop left-wing bias and politically correct ideology"
proportional commons and elected senate
🏳️⚧️REACTIONARY AGENDA not otherwise covered
for all transgender schoolchildren who have not been permitted a gender recognition certificate: prohibit the use of correct pronouns by any teacher, prohibit the recognition of social transitioning by any teacher, and require mandatory outing to their parents
ban all unisex toilets
"cut funding to universities that undermine free speech", with no clarification, meaning they get to bully anyone they chose
abolish the public health observatory on racial health disparities
look, yeah. the manifesto is short, their purview is open. the door is not shut. everything is on the table. their one, two, three or more MPs are going to be using your tax money to advocate anything and anything that harms migrants, queer and trans people. nonwhite citizens and any annoying political movement can and will be fair game for total attack and political annihilation. wherever the transphobic tornado goes next they will join in. it is going to be a dangerous time for us. they are going to push for absolutely anything they can to harm trans people. your country. your money. your responsibility to fight them. that is what democracy is
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ICJ is a hopeless waste of time and resources. Nothing they decide has ever made any difference. Israel is going to keep doing what it is doing until Netanyahu decides it’s enough (or until the people of Israel kick him and his cronies out.) Or until Iran nukes them. (After which I’m sure the ICJ will issue another opinion telling Iran they shouldn’t have done it and shouldn’t do it again. On pain of a strongly worded letter.)
Hey Anon, how are you? Thanks for sending this in, hope you're having a good weekend.
I'm not sure what you're hoping to get out of this? Especially because I'm not going to disagree with you, the United Nations System acts as a tool of neocolonialism for the interests of global powers, especially the 'Western' ones.
The ICJ (along with other UN bodies) is deeply, deeply flawed and its powers around what is binding and enforceable is often superficial and sham-like. In my post I didn't praise the ICJ, I just tried to factually summarise the findings in a way that would hopefully be accurate and I pointed out that those findings/requests aren't binding, unfortunately Israel does not have to follow any of this. I only mentioned that it's not legally-binding in the last paragraph so I guess I could've made it clearer? I'm sorry if that was unclear to you or anyone else seeing this!
My last paragraph tries to be a bit hopeful just because apparently that's needed to prevent burnout and stop apathy in crises like this. I want people to feel motivated and mobilised to do what they can so we can see a free Palestine in the lifetime of every living Palestinian.
I think there's issues with the humanitarian framework but due to the standing of UN and its image in the West, UNRWA is playing an important role at the moment with Palestinian aid. It's one of the only sources occasionally getting in, and it's the only humanitarian entities linked to Palestine that is getting funding. With an ICJ ruling like this, western governments are more likely to resume, continue or increase UNRWA funding and potentially withdraw funding going towards humanitarian aid in Israeli settlements and 'defence' (we all know it's OFFENSE) funding.
I'm not British, so it could just be how it appears on my timeline and feeds with the time difference but it appears that Britian resumed their previously halted UNRWA funding a few hours after the ICJ ruling came out. It's not an amazing victory but it's something.
I think we both know Netanyahu isn't going to stop anytime soon and what is goal is. And even if a new Prime Minister came into the picture, Israel is a state of terrorism, it is a colonial power and will continue to harm, illegally occupy and murder Palestinians as long as it exists as a state. This has been happening since it's inception.
The ruling isn't a massive victory. But it still carries the political significance of being more political ammunition that can be mobilised for activism for those of us outside of Palestine for putting more pressure on our government's (especially those of us with western governments) to recognise the state of Palestine, withdraw recognition of Israel, increase Palestinian aid funding, place economic and diplomatic sanctions against Israel, demand an immediate and permanent ceasefire, create and approve Palestinian visas etc. For those who can still be optimistic this might be something to help sway some nations and important figureheads. The ruling sends a message out, it's now somewhat on us to try and make this non-binding ruling mean something and place pressure on our governments.
Thanks for sending this in, hope it wasn't too much of a rambled read. have a great weekend.
Free Palestine!
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「 II 」
To an artist, the soul is held through the eyes of those who can feel connection to something more than themselves.
But in a moment of darkness, art scatters through the wind and becomes void, a terrible void that one cannot escape solely through will alone.
It makes one wonder just how much an artist's art can represent the soul-crushing emotion of an angel saving them from death.
If you asked Briar what had happened that day they met you. They'd reply with a smile and a wink and say something elaborate and poetic.
They have always been free-spirited. A tall lanky person with long black hair kept tied into a ponytail. They tend to come off as androgynous, eventually coming out as genderfluid when they realize who they wanted to be in college.
But every artist occasionally gets burnout. This one came with thoughts they couldn't stop.
Thoughts that the world didn't care. Their friends weren't their friends. That everyone would be better off without them and that they weren't needed for anything.
And whenever they tried to paint it all away as they usually would have done, it came to a frustrated blob, splatters of paint, and in the end; rage.
They'd end up trying to destroy the canvas, despairing as their sobs wrecked their body and they crumbled to the floor with blood slowly seeping from the wounds where they ended up hurting themselves when attempting to destroy the canvas.
And they tried to reach out. They tried medication, and they tried therapy. But therapy didn't bring comfort, and the medications they tried made them feel off.
They knew some people who swore by those things but they also knew that it didn't work for everyone.
Their despair came to the point that after a massive breakdown one day, they couldn't take it anymore. They could have taken the pills at their desk but they didn't want to risk the chance of becoming a vegetable if the pills didn't kill them and only messed them up physically.
They read about it online. A bridge where the perfect time when the tide in the canal drops enough for the water to be at the ideal height. So after a drink or two they took off, the cold air pinching at their skin and loose sweatpants and a collared shirt covered in the result of their failed paintings.
They stopped in the middle of the bridge, glancing down at the dark water below. They gripped the edge of the stone railing and took a deep breath.
Nothing would change, would it? They'd still feel depressed even if they managed to start painting again. They wouldn't feel a thing for the people around them trying to show their sympathy.
Their art would be valueless and nothing would change.
As they lifted a leg and straddled the railing they heard a couple of steps before a hand gently grabbed their wrist, another hand coming to grab their hand as well.
"Wait." That was all they heard before they glimpsed up to see you. The worry in your eyes, the way your lips stayed slightly parted for preparation to speak again.
Your gentle but firm grip on their wrist and hand tethered them to something more than the mind-numbing feeling of wanting to die.
Your eyes showed every amount of hesitation, worry, sadness, and hope. And without knowing why, Briar started to cry, tears falling down their cheeks as they squeezed your hand just to feel the warmth you provided.
You didn't have to say anything else, you didn't think you would have to either. You wait for a moment, letting them cry on that railing before letting go of their hand and offering your other hand to them so you could help them off the railing.
They hesitated before they accepted your hand, their feet reaching the ground again before they finally felt the weight of what they were about to do.
They sobbed, their knees nearly caving in as they leaned against you for support. They felt sobs wrack their body and their shoulders shake as you slowly lead them to your home, setting them on your couch and wrapping a blanket around their shoulders.
You didn't often know what would make them feel better. The people you helped were done out of sympathy and a knowing of how they felt rather than just for the fuck of it.
You made sure the soft blanket wrapped around them well, softly petting their head before you left to make some tea.
A blend of butterfly pea flower with chamomile and a few other ingredients started to seep as you grabbed a clean plate from the dishwasher and placed a couple of chocolate chip cookies you had baked just last night.
Once you had the fresh tea you grabbed a bit of lemon juice and headed over to the table.
You placed the plate and tea cup in front of them before meeting their eyes, "Watch this hm?" You spoke, adding a bit of lemon to watch the color of the tea change before handing them the cup. The warmth spread through to their cold fingers, crying a bit more as they took a sip of the tea.
After a bit, when the tea was finished and the plate was empty, you gave their head another pat and told them to rest.
After you were sure they were resting you headed up to your own bed, ready to rest from your long night.
And unknown to you Briar had the first good dream in years, your face coming to them, your eyes softened as you caress your cheek and whisper reassurances to them. In their mind, they could have sworn they saw wings sprout from your back.
They woke up in the early hours of the morning, light barely coming through your curtains. They felt inspired as they quickly got up, they wanted to see you but it was too early for such a thing.
So they left, scrambling in front of the door to their home, finally getting it open and grabbing a tray and several paints. They grabbed a brand new canvas and started painting. They didn't need to sketch it, their mind was clear and their hands moved without thought.
The bottom of the canvas was painted as a pit, a dark pit in a tower, the background of the tower covered in vines and eroded bricks, light coming in from old windows, and the lack of roof providing even more and the edges of the tower eroded more in some places.
And above that pit, stood you, seemingly midair, feathers falling through the air and smudged paint in the shape of wings behind your back.
Briar was nearly satisfied, but they couldn't get your face right. They needed you to finish it. So they left it blank, your figure covered in white robes and your hands coming together to rest in front of your abdomen, holding your hands linked together.
They had to stop themself from caressing the freshly painted canvas.
And they spent weeks like that, painting as though their hands would fall off. If they ran out they'd get more. And eventually, the canvases they had abandoned were painted white to use as a fresh canvas.
Briar couldn't stop. How could they? The kindness you gave, the smile that reached the depths of their soul?
You were an angel! No, that word wasn't enough to compare what you were. You were a goddess. A goddess that reached through the pain of a person and took it so their soul would be free.
But one thing bothered them about their paintings. The face.
They couldn't get it right. While they saw your smile, they saw your eyes and kindness, they couldn't get any of it right. It made them sorrowful.
But as much as that single thought had plagued their mind, one of their friends who had been worried about them brought them to an art gallery. Briar knew they were trying to inspire and get them out of the house to see something that could get them out of their slump, but they didn't want to be looking at things that wouldn't help them paint the face of their savior.
But one thing caught their eye, a community board where it held flyers for similar events and other kinds of things like a missing pet and such.
But big words titled "Goddess of the Bridge" caught their eye the most. The same bridge they had nearly jumped off of was shown on the flyer and a QR code was right next to the image.
There was no way it was their savior right? No possible way right? Yet with hesitant hands, they brought their phone up to the code.
But before they could even pull up their camera a finger poked them on the shoulder and Briar nearly got whiplash from how fast their head turned to face none other than their friend who brought them here.
"Come, Briar! I have the perfect thing to get you out of your slump!" And so they were torn away from the curious sign and dragged around to one of their friend's professors was around looking for unfinished artwork to put on display.
As interesting as it sounded Briar still wasn't as confident in their work. Their period of depression had them slightly afraid.
It wasn't until a week later that their friend, the same friend who dragged them out in the first place stated that "I may have talked to the professor about putting one of your larger unfinished works on display." That made Briar want to crawl into a massive hole.
They knew their friend was the nosy type that couldn't stay still. But to go this far?? Now they had to panic about what to display and how to get the painting out of their studio without getting damaged and what should they wear?
But somehow, as much as their friend stuck their head in deep, they also stuck through with Brair till the end.
And so with the massive painting of you on display, the blank space of canvas where your face should be and the first work they created after you saved them hung next to several different students' works.
A couple statues and all sorts of different mediums were shown throughout the gallery. It was surprising but many people showed up.
Brair was kind of glad they got to participate, part of themselves wanted fate to bring you back to them. They wanted fate to intervene once more so they could see you again.
But fate worked in a different way, a person showed up right in front of Briar's unfinished painting, the person's face contorted and Briar saw something like relief wash across their face.
Before Briar could think of something to ask the person, they turned their head and smiled while they pulled out a business card, and that mere interaction led to Briair being able to finish some of their paintings.
They provided Briar with equipment and even special paints and better canvases to continue painting you. But even better, they provided her with photos of you, with videos of you saving others and before the group had torn down the old homes that stood across the street from your home, many of those with higher positions like Briar were able to stay in some of the rooms at certain times before they formed the layout and architecture for the mansion that was to be built.
Those moments were always spent gazing at your home, watching you whenever they could, painting you as they watched, and your precious face could finally be painted
A sweet smile attached to Briars' lips as they unwrapped a fresh canvas and set it onto their easel, the newly built mansion was finished and many new plans were hatched.
They watched you across the street, smiling excitedly at the thought of getting you to sit in front of them as they painted you, "Maybe I could paint a mural of them in the main hall?".
「 The Theophany of Hestia 」
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PARASOCIALITE MANIFESTO
⚠️massive infodump ahead⚠️
i wrote all that forever ago when i was trying to figure out the dynamic (and after rewatching a stream of the beginner’s guide, feeling incredibly inspired to create a drawing of twitch as a parasocial figure and thought i needed someone on the “other end” so to speak). after writing vol 3, it just sorta fell into place. i was trying not to post too many drawings before it came out 🤭
my original idea was basically the clashing of “someone who doesn’t care about anything” and “someone who cares too much about everything,” which is still true but i really love the added parasocial aspect of it 😁😁😁 and i like opposites attract type of shit i guess
kik wouldn’t even think of twitch as anything more than a basic influencer type until after watching for a good while. at the start, he was only curious, and still held disdain for twitch’s streaming personality. but he likes it when twitch gets mad, so somehow he found himself continuing to watch old streams and new ones.
there’s also a sense of relatability all streamers have, and so for someone like kik, who doesn’t find most people relatable (or tries), it felt even more intense. the fact that twitch is genderfluid, has overlap in their sense of humor, and those random moments where you and the streamer are just… thinking the same thing in the moment, feels like a red strings of fate to kik. donating to get twitch to read her message gives her a major shot of dopamine lol.
things that kik originally disliked in twitch are now reasons why she’s soooooo amazing: workaholic -> talented, trying too hard -> cute. she agonizes over being so attached to someone she once pinned as a normie and over the possibility that she’s being creepy.
deep down kik is a social person, and used to talk to people all the time, only thru the window while rarely meeting anyone “irl.” since amino is the only other person kik cares abt now and they go periods of time isolating itself, welllllll ig kik gets a bit lonely.
from twitch’s perspective, she has been working hard and trying to fit in with the bigger sites as her platform basically became a major trend in recent years. she adores the sleekness and style of celebrity type sites (which is why she thinks yt and insta are attractive) and wants the attention too. just in her own, gamer way.
twitch gets easily swept up in the streamer/audience feedback loop, and hasn’t quite figured out how to create clear boundaries. she could tell right away that kik was a fan by the time they met again. it makes her uncomfortable and annoyed when people idolize her, but at the same time she kinda likes being showered with praise and attention and stuff like that. though she really hates it when kik makes assumptions about her based on their limited perspective, and whenever they say anything self deprecating, so she also uses this as an opportunity to be mean to someone/boss someone around without repercussion.
i specified that this happened during their burnout era because it would be when they make the most irrational decisions and more prone to being mean. before then, they probably didn’t even remember kik’s existence or rejected him. it would take a while for twitch to actually see anything in kik, partially cuz he never talks about himself or his interests, and also cuz he’s just not their type (or so it seems??)
i think that twitch might like kik if she approached her normally, like being bold but not overly obsessive. but then it wouldn’t be very parasocial-ite would it? that would only happen at the very beginning since kik wouldn’t care as much, or the very end after they get past the parasocial aspect of it n are just talking normally.
after the dust is settled, their true dynamic is kik still being mushy/touchy-feely and twitch being awkward about it bc normally she’s kinda adverse to that stuff and would rather it be a joke. especially around other people. kik would bother the fuck out of him in public and likes embarrassing him. this also compounds with kik being the antithesis to the image twitch likes/wants to achieve.
of course at the end of the day they’re just dolls im playing with and i dont necessarily have to stick to any strict timeline or anything lol
dont get me started with the eddsworld polycule thing. theyd all kill each other
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anxiety/ depression related ramblings i guess
is it weird to daydream about being able to play a healer in an mmo again without getting crushed by anxiety? Like what would it take? how many years of therapy to mend whatever got borked in my brain about it so badly I can't bring myself to even try it anymore.
It's not even that I got mean randoms that would've loudly complained about it, my brain just really went as hard as it could right into the corner of shame for not feeling i'm doing good enough.
I even had a lovely group when i briefly did raid prog back then, so it's not like that would've kicked it off either.(although I have to admit it wasn't my cup of coffee despite having its fun moments)
I switched to dps because that felt like less pressure, but man it really never was the same. Heal/Support has always been the role I enjoy the most and in my heart of hearts still would.
I guess total burnout in late 2018 and the massive depression that finally bloomed from that really went and fucked up my mind on so many levels? I've been really trying to think why i feel so strongly about such silly little things like this, and how to try and fix it.
I think this is one of the reasons why I can't bring myself to play at all nowadays. I keep thinking about resubbing and just fucking around at my own pace, but playing an mmo like it was a single player game really kinda takes the soul out of it. starts giving that "ah i feel alone/like an outsider while surrounded by people" -vibe which is worse than just being by myself.
(and yeah, i'm -still- waiting to get the proper documents in order to start seeking a therapist. yes, it's been nearly 6 years :) the healthcare might be nearly free but the quality and availability of it is another matter...)
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