#it's because I'm going through severe life burnout

[soliusss]

Already burnt out from 3. 3 days of school. I cant finish any drawings because I'm so exhausted that everything looks terrible and I can't draw anything right. Literally been drawing this one little doodle page for a week and I haven't finished the sketch it's driving me Mad.

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

Hi. I read your post about being an "unreliable narrator" of your own life and I am having Feelings about it.

You said at the end to not respond with "relatable" if not friend/mutual etc. and so I am not doing that.

I am here to say Thank You, because you have given me a new way to describe an experience that I sometimes have.

Of course, my experience is very, very small compared to yours. I can pass as "normal" if I want to.

But still, you shared "Unreliable Narrator of Own Life", and so I would like to share "Executive Function Burnout" with you in return.

Thank you so much for sharing. Really. We are not the same, because no two people are really the same, but I see myself in you, and because I love myself and want myself to be happy, I also want the same things for you.

You are welcome to use "Executive Function Burnout" as a way to explain a thing.

I know words are hard sometimes (not always, but sometimes), so:

Executive = Decision Maker

Function = Capacity

Burnout = Used Up

I like finding connections between words, and translating complicated words into simple words.

I hope you have good rest, whatever that looks like for you. And I'm sorry I put so many words here.

Thank you for sharing. 💜

hey so. you nice about it so do appreciate, n think this problem caused by me not realize need elaborate what count as “say relate,” so that on me, n you tried respect that based on your interpretation, so am also gonna try be calm n nice about it

(tone tag is not mad. i think. well, if am mad it not your responsibility worry abt it)

by “don’t say relate” not just mean don’t say word “relate.” mean include saying anything that can be see as relating—say we similar, borrowing words, say see self in me, etc.

because often am describing level of severity that, unless you also go through, people don’t realize can affect that basic of thing. so people misunderstand to mean something milder. n that frustrate me because am try best to explain self as clear n work with communication disabilities. n history of be speak over by people…. for lack better term less severe in community.

now, don’t know how you (both actual you + general you for non mutuals) actually experience, don’t know how you actually understand. maybe you actually understand perfectly severity + actual experience. am have no way knowing unless know you more. and exact because have no way know unless that, n majority of people have met who do this don’t actually understand n experience, just ask people am not familiar with in general, not to tell me if they feel similar, if they relate.

to illustrate.

“burnout” very very. so very different from what am experiencing what am describe. have been very adamant in “do not call me burnout” because been repeat instances. if you not follow me for while, may not know that. n that okay not know! is why say “don’t say relate,” to prevent me see that.

& “executive function/dysfunction”, in way neurodivergent community typically think n talk about term, not describe what am experiencing.

n reason why say “don’t say relate” is, am can’t control how you feel. you (general you) can’t even control how you feel. can only ask you not do action. so ask you not do action. “relate all you want just don’t tell me.” kind of thing

again, do appreciate you be nice. n do appreciate you mean well, n want give me something in return. misunderstanding from miscommunication n that okay. hope you good day.

may borrow some of what wrote here into new post explain what meant by “not say relate if mutual / friend who experience this”, & why. please know it not target at you, you not only one, it something been thinking about do for while because it kinda unusual.

[fountainpenguin]

"I'm not the kind of girl to get messed up with you- Hello! ... You're all right, but I'm here, darling, to enjoy the party..." (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 31 - “Flame (Etho, Skizz, Pearl)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

Scar files a microaggression complaint with the HALO team. Pearl helps Scott settle in while he recovers from glitchy code. They have a spat that's not about a sticker.

Meanwhile, SnifferMyFeet and Etho separate their souls… and start an honest talk about Sniff's identity as Sniff, not Joel. It was needed. It's for the best.

(First 900 words under the cut)

---

Etho - Fox

Status: Resting

Self-taught programmer, full-time hero

💙  💙  💙

He gets it now.

It's like ice in your water. It's like marshmallows in your cocoa. It's like wind beneath your wings. The final week before he's due back in Between (reluctantly, but definitely due), Etho flops on his bed and sprawls his arms to either side. Is he giddy? He doesn't mean to be, but this feels…

… Oh, it's a game-changer. Which is exactly what he texts Cleo after scooping up his admin panel. They won't see it if they've left their private server, and since Session 2 of Dog's Life could be starting any day now, there's no telling how long that may take.

Etho: hey so Etho: remember after limlife 4 or 5 when we talked about burnout?

Grocery shopping. For a family dinner- he and Cleo both made one (like a peace offering) in a way that wasn't really flirty married life roleplay, but more like… regular, everyday person roleplay. Did all their shopping together so they wouldn't cook the same thing. Call it 'date night' if you want; he walked her home and there might've been a little 'dramatic logout' roleplay in there. We don't… We don't need to go into detail about it.

To some people that's romantic and to some it's completely gross. Not really sure why… It's a natural process, isn't it? Soul-eaters can't help being what they are, and you may as well snap at endermen hybrids for struggling with eye contact or shame unthreaded players if they expose their glitches instead of keeping them covered up. This world's too big and life too long for arguing. Do you really want to make enemies and be rude to people who are going to carry the echo of your words for the rest of their lives?

Lend a helping hand. Extend a little kindness. Be polite. Respond to the hurt. Try not to avoid responsibility when others are counting on your strength. Sit with the injured, even when the night is cold. They're simple goals, but so easily forgotten these days.

Etho: I think you said if I felt stuck then I should break my routine for a while

Nothing happens for several minutes. Etho rotates words without meaning through his head, then types out something else.

Etho: you were right. I get now why you go on adventures with Martyn. Why you let him and no one else log you out all the time. Thanks for the advice. Let me know next time you need a favor. Rating this cycle 10 of 10 and I owe you big xD

He takes a long, guilt-free nap in his cushioned bed. Catching up on block updates and videos really drains a guy (especially this close to the end of the Hermitcraft season, not to mention Vault Hunters and a Life series on top of it), but he spent all morning prepping the bed and it's already providing every agonizing tick of its worth. Two hours later, he's stirred awake by a buzz on the admin panel.

ZombieCleo: yay! So glad that worked for you <3 I want to hear all about it. Maybe in a couple weekends you can watch MCC with me and the kids + Martyn? If we catch a minute alone, I can recommend more stuff you might be into ;)

The kids refers to Bdubs and Scar, who skated through Limited Life like energetic teenagers spreading their wings. It's goofy, it's endearing, and Cleo's got her roleplay voice on because she knows it makes him snort. His tail gives a twitch as he tries to keep a smirk from creeping out behind his mask.

Martyn, huh? he muses, but doesn't say that. Cleo circles between lovers, friends, and exes like a pollinating bee.

Etho: whoaaaa Etho: inviting a fox? that's dangerous! ZombieCleo: nose out of your tail, fur boy Etho: dibs on Martyn, I see ZombieCleo: If you're serious about returning the favor, Martyn says Rhetoric's down here and this might be our best chance at smash and grabbing from your mum's museum Etho: Hm… ZombieCleo: I mean, you did leave my eggshell when you rescued Grian and that other soul

Yeah- it looked distressed. Now Sniff's down here. He can actually talk now when he couldn't before. Honestly, not the worst decision he could've made.

If anyone's going to try getting into the Fox Dragon's museum, a fox has the best chance of doing so. It's kept separate from the nesting cave where souls respawn, but even the deadliest traps won't keep foxes out since they'll just respawn. Unless they're traps that can't be dodged even with careful planning, or some sort of system that short-circuits code. The phantom roost is nearby, right? Frankly, phantoms are excellent trackers, they can fly, and they're probably the fastest of all non-swimming hybrids, so a phantom alone provides great security as-is.

Etho: I'll think about it. Not tonight, though. Full moon fox face isn't for me. Also if there are raiders there then that's probably the worst time to show up ZombieCleo: Fair ZombieCleo: I can think of something else, but if you ever get the chance, I want it back Etho: duly noted ✌️ ZombieCleo: btw say hi to Scar and Bdubs when you see them. They've been cracking nonstop jokes since you disappeared. One can only imagine they're attempting humor to bury immense throes of pain Etho: D:

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

[thoughtsofatransboy]

I hope you know you're really worth it.

Hello fellas!! Are you guys doing well? Sleeping and eating? I hope yes! I'm happy to be back writing by my own will, not just for full fill requests (something my little burnout brain can't do perfectly) There's another MCR fanfic, since this fellas are the reason I smile everyday 👾

Warnings: This fic contains pet names such as: angel, sweetheart, darling and pretty thing; multiartist!reader, sex, gn!reader, implicit afab!reader (I'll try my best to not describe genitals), kind of dom!Frank Iero, grammar mistakes cuz my English sucks. Some angst and a scar (implicit SH) mention. If any of this things can make you feel uncomfortable, feel free to leave and maybe read something else from my blog

1st of August, another month, another week, another day. Honestly, your life's being a stupid watercolor blur, the hours and the moments and the pain just mix with your emptiness.

You've been feeling real down, a horrible self-esteem and lack of creativity. Basically, you're experiencing a severe burnout. Being an artist, you know how much the quality of your creations tends to decrease when you're going through something like this.

But... in the middle of your chaotic situation, you have someone who can always make you laugh, flush, giggle, smile and have pleasure. Your beloved one, Frank Iero. Which you call as "Frankie"... You can't understand how you got so lucky in your life to have someone as sweet as him to love and take care of you.

Well, as sweet and adorable as it looks like, you've been having struggles with him too. Not because of his actions, but because of your fear of losing him. Anytime you went to a walk with him, and you see him looking to someone, you couldn't help but feel insecure, afraid that he might be desiring them.

You know it's just some paranoia and he would never do something like this to you, at least is what your rational part wants you to believe.

8 p.m, you're laid down on your sofa, with a small blanket covering your legs. You're waiting for Frank to arrive home. You're looking around your living room, trying to distract yourself from the scars on your arm, they really aren't helping your self-esteem. You notice that your cat is there, she seems happy, meowing around and chasing a little fly. God... How much you wish you were happy like a cat.

You couldn't do anything but feel overwhelmed with your pain. Your work, art, family, your partner, yourself. Before you could notice, you're collapsing into tears, and so focused in your crying, you don't listen to the key turning in the door. Frank arrived, but instead of a happy partner, he finds you crying and hopelessly on the couch.

"Sweetheart! Are you ok?" Frank said, no taking too long to go towards the couch and hug you. "Shh... shh... it's ok... I'm here, it will be fine.." Honestly that's all you needed. You let yourself focus on the moment, while he strokes your hair gently. After some minutes in completely silence, he decides to ask. "What happened angel? Why were you crying?" You really want to answer him, but all you could say was "Frankie, am I worth your love?"

Frank was surprised, there wasn't many questions in this world that would make him feel so sad as he was now. He wasn't showing his partner enough love? How could he be so fool to let his own partner think something like this?

"Oh sweetheart... you are the prettiest person I ever met in my whole life. Of course you're worth it" You finally could feel yourself calming down a little, In the heat of the moment, he kisses you on the lips, sweet but really sloppy.

What was supposed to be an innocent little kiss turns into a make out session, with some naughty hands and pleasure moans. Your tears couldn't even be noticed anymore, they're drying more and more as Frank caress your face with so much caring and love.

You're senses are filled by his scent, your body sensitive to his hands caressing through your favorite spots. He breaks the kiss, not gasping for air, but on the way to kiss and suck at your neck.

His kisses send shivers down your spine and his hickeys makes you feel something else down there. He seems more desperate than you, alternating between kissing you mouth and your neck.

Noticing that you're aroused, Frank finally decides to act, passing his hands through your body, until he arrives your waistband, lowering your pajama pants down. Getting on top of you, he starts grinding against your crotch in anticipation.

"Darling, I wish I could give you my eyes... My ears... My thoughts, so you could understand that everything you do is incredible, so you could see yourself the way I see you" His soft words making the perfect contrast with his hands lowering your underwear in a quick movement, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

"Frankie, I love you so much" he smiled to you. He starts to undo his belt, getting rid of his pants and underwear, not bothering in looking where he threw it at. Oh, how could you hold yourself when he is stroking his cock while looking in your eyes? You left out a desperate whine. "Please! C'mon Frankie!"

Who he is to deny you your pleasure? He aligned himself to your entrance, before pushing in slowly and delicate, making you let out sweet moans and some curses. You and Frankie mostly fuck, but not today, today he was making love to you, passionate and pleasuring love.

His thrusts delicate but deep, a sensual pace that made him be able to touch all your sweet spots. Your hole clenching around him, your bodies so connected and heated, his sweating face, your moans, his whines. All of this was too much for you, you couldn't help but let it out go, cumming without advise.

"Hell yeah! Pretty thing... so beautiful when you cum" his attention suddenly goes to your neck, once again he decided to use all his effort to mark your neck. Despite he never stops the rhythm of his thrusts while he goes to your neck, his legs are shaking a little, his moans are getting louder. A sign that he's going to cum very soon.

After some minutes, he couldn't help anymore, cumming inside of you. Collapsing over the couch, next to you. "Hey sweetheart... I hope you know you're really worth it" with a small giggle, you let yourself fall asleep slowly next to your love. Maybe you still going to have troubles to create and maybe you still feel a little sad... But at least you have the sweetest lover in the world, right there for you.

[catboybiologist]

so I went to college for a year on my parents dime, but the second year I suffered from severe burnout and returned to live with my parents and went back to my high school job, and now I’m just utterly terrified of the future as my job doesn’t even pay enough to make rent much less any other of the other physiological needs and I despise my parents but any path forward that I can imagine involves being dependent on them and the second year of college got so stressful I can’t imagine myself ever completing a degree, and you seem to have your shit together to a degree and I don’t even know what to ask but I just feel so hopeless

I hope this response is at least a little helpful. You're cutting deeply at something that a lot of people have experienced. I sympathize deeply. It's okay. And to tell you the truth, I don't have my shit together, and I'm at a similar crossroads to you. I'll elaborate on my own personal path after the cut, but if you want some advice, here's mine:

You're not gonna power yourself through burnout. You're not a failure, and what you're doing is okay. You need to take a real, hard look at what makes you happy. Not what career you want, what makes you happy. If that's your career, wonderful. If it's not your career, that's great too. It's okay to pause to reevaluate. Give yourself the patience you need. You're okay, and you will figure it out. But you can't power yourself through burnout. Something has to change. I can't tell you what. You're gonna have to figure that out, unfortunately.

But don't try to suffer through a degree that will make you miserable. You have to plan for the future, of course, but you need to remember that you're living in the present as well.

So how do you go forward? As I see it, you have two options: go back to school when you're rested a little, but in a different field than before (or a different approach like trade school or an associate's degree), or try to find a path forward that simplifies your life enough financially to make it on your own. Neither are easy. Both are possible, but brutally difficult.

You can slowly dip your toes into either option. Find out alternate jobs. Take classes from community college or online in a variety of subjects. But if you don't want to do any of that, its okay not to as well.

Take your time with yourself. I believe in you. But remember to enjoy yourself when you can. It's okay to be hurt. But you can try to love yourself too.

My overall point is: if you commit yourself to misery, it becomes addicting. The longer you resign yourself to living your life in a way that actively burns you out and doesn't make you happy, the harder it becomes to break that pattern. I spent a while that way myself. You don't have to read further, but if you want to hear my own personal vent and relation to this, you can if you want.

To tell you the truth, I'm considering quitting my PhD at some point. I'm still very undecided, but right now, I'm basically holding out until I can take my summer quarter off. Even if I wasn't doing that to socially transition, I need that to figure out what I'm going do with my life, and whether I want to complete this degree.

I've done a LOT of things I regret. And they were all in the name of committing myself to my own misery, and a lot of that was tied to academia, and appeasing my family. At first, I started giving up on dreams I had that weren't academia related (Mt. Whitney was a huge one, and longer thru hikes as well). It snowballed into a point where I didn't know how not to be miserable anymore, and I was actively suffering through things that I refused to change, simply because

That's... why I delayed transitioning so long. The first and last thought on my mind about it, the entire time I was getting my undergrad degree, was about how transitioning would affect my education, and my career.

I only started posting my first "femboy" pictures online in Fall 2021. At the time, I was deeply engrained into a really, really shitty situation, that I was doubling down on because I didn't want to impede the progress of my master's degree. I was trapped. I started posting the pictures because, well, I was in "fuckit, if I wanna kms anyways, might as well get some fun in before I do it". If anyone wants more detail, I might talk in DM, but it would mostly be me venting. For you, anon, I think my details aren't that important. I'm still scared of talking about it publicly even now, and I still regret getting into that situation every day.

Getting out of that was my breaking point. I realized that I needed to start living my life for me. I chose my PhD institution and lab in part because of available LGBT acceptance and resources, and started HRT about a year into my PhD when I was a bit settled.

And I love what I do! I still do! I love science!! I still love biology and research and the coding I do for it and discussing it and presenting it and all of it!!!! But is it worth it? Does I love it enough? And can I keep doing it?

I need to figure it out. And it sounds like you do too. Your individual considerations may be different, but its ultimately the same consideration: how happy will this make you, vs how miserable it will make you.

And that is a HUGE question, that won't be answered overnight. You're right to take a break and tackle it. I believe in you <3

[bonefall]

howdy!! i was wonderin’ if you could list all the cats that are neurodivergent or have a mental disorder, and specifically what conditions? i was also hopin’ if you could expand upon how they present as well, but you don’t have to do all of them! you can pick and choose. or none at all if you’re tired! idm ‘:3

warriors and psychiatry are two of my SIs so i just wanna gobble up all of this information LOL

Sure! Though, I want to preface by saying that I try to make sure I'm very well acquainted with the neurodivergence I plan to add before adding it. I've always had a, "try not to overextend" sort of philosophy, trying to make sure each portrayal is going to be treated well in the narrative before promising it publicly

SO what that means is that this list is incomplete and I plan to add more, as I learn more about how to accurately portray something. Especially important with the more stigmatized disorders on this list-- for example I plan to add NPD once I have a better idea for how to feature it.

C-PTSD

Life in the Clans is VIOLENT. Most, or many, characters are going to end up with symptoms of PTSD, especially the cats who lived through the Plague, TigerClan, the entire Mothermouth Moorland War, and the destruction of the White Hart Woods in particular.

But C-PTSD is something I'm choosing more carefully, if that makes sense, so that it's something I write with 'higher priority' when approaching that particular character.

Birchfall (Human activity and child starvation are his triggers, also visibly unsettled by falling trees)

Brightheart (Dogs and dishonor titles, has recurring nightmares, self-harms through overexertion; refuses to take breaks to punish herself)

Stormfur (Severe trust issues, self-destructs relationships)

Lilyheart (Can't deal with water because she watched a sibling die instead of her)

Harrybrook ("big mood lilyheart")

There will also be some cats in WindClan who aren't able to eat rabbit, because it triggers memories of poison and causes them to wretch. This causes serious issues for them, because rabbit is the majority of the WindClan diet, especially in winter.

Epilepsy

Sorreltail (Absence seizures caused by brain damage from nightshade poisoning)

Shadowsight (Severe clonic-tonic seizures, Tawnypelt brings him to the Tribe to seek a very special treatment for him)

I reaaaaally need to add more here tbh

Autism

Mumblefoot (I know he's not a major character lmao but he was Pinestar's first deputy, and had dyspraxia.)

Yellowfang (It's super prevalent in her entire familial line)

Rowanberry

Stumptail

Brokenstar

Littlecloud

Rowanstar

Leafpool

Honestly I'm so autistic I kinda end up putting a little bit of autism in everyone. I feel like I can detect autism in every one of my little favorites. Spottedleaf, Speckletail, Dustpelt, etc

Borderline Personality Disorder

Cinderheart

Breezepelt

Squirrelflight

Etc/There's one cat who has it and I need to add more

Bumble, Blossom, and Briar have a lot of baggage from their parents' treatment, Bumble and Bloss are glass children.

Alderheart has anxiety

Carpwhisker might also have anxiety, she's really bad at standing up for herself

Poppyfrost is severely avoidant

Sparkpelt and Palebird both had postpartum depression

Dovewing has burnout and gets stressed out when her biofamily is around; not sure how to describe this.

Squirrelflight also has ADHD, this is kind of like Autism because I also have ADHD and it's difficult for me to imagine other 'ways' people think. like what do you MEAN, you have ONE train of thought??

[licially]

Interlude #1

//Hey y'all, I never normally post stuff on here but that is because I've been stressed to death between project works, writer's block and general burnout for the last week. //I managed to push this out but I have been taking a break since then. This goes out to @blogplutocrat, and my second real attempt at angst with a theme? I'm not sure what to make of it but I will keep practicing.

It hasn’t been unusually quiet within the household, yet today stands a contradiction. The busy streets outside of the complex proved a superstition, but the quietness that surrounded the place made it all the more mysterious what this superstition was supposed to be. The tenants of the apartment that was decrepit enough to house those financially unfortunate enough were silent. Not a slight footstep, not a shuffle and not a word from the walls. The hallways replied to the silence with the same, until a door creaked open from the bottom floor. The disruption of what seemed a peaceful silence reverberated back to the person, who gave a deep sigh as they shut the door slightly behind them. They didn’t seem to mind it, as if they were also basked in it. Slowly, they trailed towards the staircase that stood towards the side without longer hesitation. The climb was made difficult with the heels that they wore, and the reach to the second floor was relieved by the contact of the floor.

The footsteps did stop, merely for a moment as they caught up on their breath under what window of time and place they had. Their hair, a low cut that didn’t expand past their head, swirled the air surrounding them. It also partially revealed a dress that they wore, as she sighed one more time. Through the vague lighting that sporadically bounced through the hallways and emptiness of the rooms, she waltzed through the darkness. It was eerie, not only because of the lack of life but what was present didn’t want to make itself known. She kept at it, her steps brought more authority and rule over a place that was chaos crossed with introspection. 

Quiet thoughts also lingered as she filtered the insanity within: What place is this, and why does it feel like an infinity unexplained? Where was she going, and where is the room she was looking for? How did she end up here, and not back at the apartment that she previously entered? She pondered, as she stopped to catch her breath and what little sanity she had left. Her questions still stood untested, and she still kept going at both. The questions only brought answers, and more questions that arose. She was distressed, under stress and everything she did was under duress.

Eventually, she found the number of the room that belonged to both her and her significant other. The door, engraved with a golden plaque that read out the number ‘4514’, which is also supported by the glow that emanated from the borders. She swiped at the door handle, and out she went towards her apartment, in the sunlight that brought color back to the empty void that was outside.

The entrance was short and narrow, with the walkway immediately going towards the living area that served both as a dining place and a kitchen place. The space expanded to a singular window, sat towards the streets below and faced a multitude of buildings across a tiny section of St. Louis’ metropolitan area. Towards the left, a bathroom that tucked itself away with cracks slightly forming at the sink and above towards the roof. The right handside was a bedroom that she and her boyfriend shared endearingly. Although it didn’t seem like much, she called this place her home, and even decorated it with various things. A tiny chandelier that lit up the space between the windows and the living space, which had a rug and several comfortable chairs that stood around a circle. It also included instruments, strawn over the place.

However, she wasn’t quite sure that this place was home. Considering where she was mere moments ago, she had every right to be paranoid that this place was another nightmare or something entirely fabricated. After taking off her heels onto a nearby shoe rack, she checked outside once again to see if the void still existed out there. Outside, the apartment felt normal again. She heard chatter and shuffling coming from all parts of the building; from down the hall, two people were going on about the recent murder spree by someone, another person walked out from a door just closer towards the end of the hallway that took one quick glance around them before they were gone and the hallway was lit up by the windows that she did not see as she came home. 

Weird. She swore she could have been going through this space without any lights to help her, and no one to help her. She didn’t want to sound like a lunatic going around, so she wanted to figure out the answer on her own. As she closed the door and went back inside, the previous ‘how’ and ‘why’ questions had a different name under it: “Why did everything disappear, and why did everything seem so… normal?” she uttered aloud, going through towards the windowsill, as she looked outside and letting the sunlight hit her. It’s here her eyes pondered through the streets and her mind subconsciously dwelled on the questions.

Through the cars and stars that she can and can’t see, she was searching for an answer: Why did she go through the impossible apartment? She paced around the room, trying to sort out herself as she was just outside in the heat, clasping a briefcase with a great deal of care and a suit. Throughout her journey through the household, she held herself on a high after that entire encounter. The soft steps turned softer, her hair became more undone, and her moody attitude seemed to seep into what she was wanting to do.

“What even was that- I don’t get it!” She frustratingly thought out loud, her head and body swaying through the complex to do maintenance: sweeping the household, preparing food from the fridge to cook for her and him for tonight. Since he hadn’t been home at all, she thought ahead and prepared one of their favorite meals together: a simple spaghetti carbonara, with bacon pieces and a sauce she had also prepared the night before. Although it wasn’t everyday she cooked like this, it’s… much better than his monstrosities.

Like ‘pancakes with bacon and eggs on top, with syrup drizzled all over it’ type of monstrosity.

She stopped by now, and planned to do more to the place to make it look pretty. Two sharp knocks came from the front door, unexpectedly so. Lola put everything aside, and yelled out a “coming!” before slowly making her way towards it. Unusual, since she hadn’t had anyone made plans with her, let alone have them come over to this dingy apartment. To have someone knock is either someone from across the hall, or it was Rocky, which shouldn’t be home until about 7PM. Regardless, she wouldn’t dare answer if it weren’t for the peephole that came with the door. She peeked through, and she was surprised.

Rocky stood there, albeit more steady than ever, and his head was covered by a hat that made him look like anyone else. Lola stood for a moment, before proclaiming to him that this wasn’t like him at all.

“Rocky! You can’t scare me with that!” She teased him, trying to get anything out of the guy.

Nothing.

“Rocky?” She lowered her sarcastic tone, this time a concern spread across her face.

Again, Rocky stood absolutely still, without any noise and movement. 

Confused, she clasped the door handle and swung it open. There he still was, standing still with a coat and a hat that still covered his face up towards his mouth. She staggered, not used to seeing him in this sort of quietness before. Carefully, she catered to him and managed to walk him inside the house. He, reluctantly, staggered through the front door and down through towards the open space. Until now, she hadn’t noticed anything wrong with him, maybe the job at hand was a bit too much and he had gone home. But she took another look at her hand and realized the crimson it held. It bled into her viewpoint, and she watched as Rocky took one more step before collapsing onto the floor, the bloody footprints and the impact he made on the floor suddenly shook her subconscious into question, as she paced towards Rocky and grabbed hold of him, whose face is now shown to her.

Her strength was close to being diminished, her eyes’ tears flooded a river and her mouth couldn’t utter any other words. Silence was her only friend as she tugged on him again. For the first time, his smile left him behind. His body felt colder and colder to touch, what he had to say soon also followed the plunge. His head slowly slumped backwards, and Lola felt that everything halted. His eyes were bloodshot, almost too much that she didn’t even recognize it. His face had blood pouring out of his forehead, a cut made by something extremely sharp. His face scrambled every word that fell out of his mouth, as he weakly addressed the lady of the household. 

“Lola- Ms Deluca!...” He coughed out, words mixed with spit and blood. “I’m– sorry…”

“What happened–?!” Lola reprised, her eyes searching up and down for any other wounds that left him in this state.

“I… was a little carr-ied away!” He flinched slightly, still jovially despite his life threatening situation.

“Carried away?! Rocky, you could have died!” She put her eyes away from him, and left to find a first aid kit that finally came in handy thanks to Rocky’s profession. She wrapped his head in the bandage, and sat him up on a nearby chair. Her worries were far from over, however, as she stood next to him to try and find an answer to why and how… he was like this.

“I.. am sorry.” He bore a frown, his eyes seemed to also disconnect from Lola. 

“Rocky, you do so much for so little!” Lola angrily told him, her eyes watering because of the shock from that entire experience. “Please, have some thoughts about some danger that you’re putting yourself through! For goodness’ sake, I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t here!” 

Soon, an uncomfortable silence took up the room, with Rocky dumbfounded and Lola left overwhelmed by how Rocky acted outside in his job. The silence, briefly sliced by the mid afternoon commune and murmurs that echoed through the walls and throughout the entire afternoon towards the night time, they didn’t speak to each other. Not even through the meal that she had planned for the both of them, not even through the countless chores and homework they do together. Nothing got them talking to each other, yet the silence persisted.

Soon, as he finally got rid of his temporary headband, he was back at the entrance again. Lola narrowed her eyes, and pondered if she could have been too protective of him. Sure, he’d have days where he’d be like this 90% of the time, but it all seemed without care. Like an honest mistake. She didn’t seem to know how much trouble this man would go through for her, and maybe she’d be ignorant enough to overlook that side of him. 

Lola approached Rocky, sitting beside him as he put on his shoes. His eyes didn’t seem to catch her, not did it look away from his foot as he slipped on his shoes. She tugged at his jacket, her arms shook both what she had left in her sanity and his balance. As a result, he was dragged towards her ears and tearful eyes that he hadn't seen in a while. He murmured some words into his own head, and listened to what Lola had to say. 

“Promise me something, Rocky.” She said, a somber tone whispered across her voice.

He stared back at her, again silent because of the guilt that swept over him.

“Promise me that you’ll take care of yourself. Promise me you’ll be more considerate of yourself out there. Promise me.” She continued, the tears continuing to well in her eyes as Rocky looked on with guilt.

“I… promise.” He said, swallowing his own words. 

She held him closer towards him. This time, they were face to face without any space between them. Reminiscent of their first meeting, and every meeting after that. She didn’t know whether to be glad he was still here with her or to be upset that he was left in this condition by the unending dangers of bootlegging. She held him, and her hands shook slightly as Rocky saw her well of tears surround his vision. She sobbed and weeped, silently as the night went on. 

“Promise you’ll never forget about me.” She remarked one last time, through her tears and choked voice.

“I promise, my dear. I can… only promise.” 

His words meant a lot more than what it is, and Lola knew it would be enough if it came from him.

[millerflintstone]

Back in August of 2019 when my sister passed away, one of my cousins in Guatemala took my mom in. My mom was 79 and had not been taking care of herself. My sister had not been taking care of herself or my mom either. This cousin lived two doors down from my mom and sister. Unfriendly and I stayed with them when we visited in 2020 before the pandemic hit. This cousin lived with her mom and uncle (my first cousins - my mom's oldest sister's kids), and her two boys. They were 17 and 10 at the time.

This cousin is a couple of years younger than me. I am eternally grateful that she and her family were able to take care of my mom. At that time, I had been scheduled for a hysterectomy where we weren't 100% sure if the findings were just going to be just endometriosis or endo with cancer because I had been bleeding a lot. In the time it took me to heal, a global pandemic started. When I was finally able to get to Guatemala, my mom's medical team advised against her traveling at the time because of her COPD and other health concerns. Then, the pandemic caused lockdowns so even if she had been okay to travel, she didn't get the chance to do so. My mom passed in 2021.

All of this backstory is to share that part of me did feel super responsible for helping my cousin when I could. I mean, how do you repay that kind of generosity, right? The big thing she helped with was getting the house my dad bought my grandparents transferred to my mom's name. It was in my sister's name. HorribleAunt initially wanted to be able to "help" me in getting things fixed because she wanted her grubby hands on it. I completely shut her out. The house got transferred into my cousin's name and my mom's name. Now that she's passed, it's my cousin's now as far as I'm concerned and I'm glad the legal steps went through. I wanted that house to stay in the family for family that needed it. It's not in the best shape but she has improved it.

I was able to continue to help out them out financially after my mom passed until I quit my job last year. I had to let my cousin know I couldn't continue and explained my burnout and depression that just cumulated after the past 5 years. We eventually also had to let them know we couldn't share our Netflix account anymore because of the password thing they did and also because we were cutting costs.

A couple of weekends ago, she messaged me for money because her youngest was at the clinic due to severe constipation. I had to break down some of our current debt to her because while we are better off than she is, it honestly wouldn't take a whole lot of bad things happening for us to be in danger. We're not in immediate danger, but we're also not the answer. I was able to help a little but I didn't divulge the minor jobs I currently have or the job offer I recently took.

Then last weekend, she asked me if in the future she thought I'd be able to help her come to the States. I was honest and told her I absolutely could not promise that right now and had to redefine our financial concerns just for ourselves. She has no concept of the expense of life in America. She suggested her selling the house and looking for something smaller but I told her not to look into that. I had gone looking for the possibility of a different house for my mom and sister years ago and was surprised to find that at the time, the prices were not much different than in GA and that it would just be another expense.

I was talking to Unfriendly about it and he also agreed for them to not sell the house to help us.

This cousin was diagnosed with BPD so I'm not sure if she was off meds and having an episode or what. She seems to want to escape her life (don't we all?) but I am not the answer to that. I finally feel free of the obligation I felt towards my mother and sister. I'm not continuing that on. I don't want to feel that ever again.

[charbies]

been having a tough time.. stuff about it under the cut

writing a stream of consciousness about the past few months. I've been really depressed. I kept getting burned out from my job almost monthly, but could bounce back when I took a little time off. Then midway through the summer, it's like I just got stuck and couldn't get.. unstuck. by fall I had a full blown depressive episode; in september I could admit I was depressed, in october I went on medication for it, and by the time november came around it felt like there was no end in sight. Fall is my favorite time of year, and I felt like I was in a fugue state and missed it because I barely existed.

the ways this showed up in my body are unlike anything I ever experienced in my life before and that was terrifying. my head and body ached like I was coming home from war every day. I was falling asleep at the wheel, and it was a recurring pattern; my body was shutting itself off when the thought of what I'd have to deal with at work was becoming too much. I burst into tears whenever I saw my friends post pics hanging out and wished I could live closer and see them more. I felt so overwhelmed and empty, I needed everything to stop and I wanted to disappear.

my job is fucking hard. I try not to talk about it on here, but I work with people who are hurting and traumatized. I regularly have to tell them when I believe the choices they're making are going to wind up killing them. I have to tell them the last things they want to hear and still hope they trust me. The average burnout rate at my job is 2 years, I've been there for 16 months. I'm 24 and the youngest one there by a long shot. I know I'm good at what I do, but still feel way in over my head, I feel like I don't get to be my age. I've thought about quitting but I don't think I have it in me to leave and start over somewhere new just yet, not now. I feel trapped because as hard as the work is, I get way better amenities there than at most other places; this place is basically as good as it gets where I live and it's still killing me.

even tho I know how severe things were getting, I feel so guilty for ways I fell off the face of the earth. I stopped talking to friends, family, coworkers, pretty much everyone. I bailed on linktober and a bunch of other art projects I lined up and thought I had the energy to pull off. In general I just feel like a failure even though I know that isn't true.

I broke down hard and took a leave of absence, I get a few weeks off from my job. I've been off for 10 days and as badly as I've wanted to draw the idea also makes me want to jump out of my skin. So I'm taking time and hoping it comes back while I pull myself together.

I could use some advice or wisdom from anyone who has been through this in any capacity. Even silly stuff in my inbox would make my day. Tumblr was my comfort place when I was a kid and I think it will do me good to be able to look back on this post after I've worked through this and I'm doing better. Thanks for reading all of this if you did, it means a lot <3

[luckloveandwaterfalls]

heloooo! hows life? and also, what jobs do you think the aouv crew would have?

Hello!! I'm so so sorry it took me this long to get around to answering, I started it and then promptly forgot it in my drafts for a really long time :/ This is a fun question to think about!

Alistair - I've seen people on here talking about how Alistair would be a writer post-canon, and I agree wholeheartedly. He's a natural storyteller and I think he would love the chance to channel that creativity without terrifying himself in the process. Also, the relative anonymity and privacy would be good for him in the aftermath of the tournament.

Isobel - Let my girl follow her dreams of going to fashion school! I think she'd be incredible at it and the deviation from the Macaslan "jobs" and spellmaking she's expected to follow would be good for her. Many years in the future, her designs become famous, which is perhaps the biggest fuck-you to Cormac (ppl hear Macaslan and they don't think of the "family business" anymore)

Gavin - He goes through a series of temporary jobs until Fergus is an adult so he can keep a roof above their heads, then once Fergus leaves Ilvernath for university he kind of flounders a bit. Eventually Gavin ends up leaving the city as well and gets a good job in land surveying—something with a physical, hands-on element that still requires a lot of intelligence and precision.

Briony - Everyone expects her to pursue politics or some other profession with a lot of publicity, but Briony surprises everyone by becoming an attorney. She'll never let go of her desire to help and save people, but she doesn't want to be associated with the Thorburns (minus Innes) anymore, and she's become less obsessed with the idea of being a hero. She gains a reputation for being a fierce advocate for her clients against injustice.

Finley - ???? Part of the reason why it took me so long to get to this ask was because I have no fucking clue what job Finley would have. This may be partially due to the fact that I am 100% convinced this poor boy will have the worst case of burnout post-canon that leads to several breakdowns. I also think he'll feel very aimless, because so much of his life has been about living up to expectations. Please chime in if anyone has ideas about what Finley would end up doing with his life, because I'm getting very hung up on the inevitable mental health issues in his immediate future.

Elionor - She becomes an engineer and specializes in integrating magick with otherwise mechanical designs. She barely makes it through her internship because of her attitude, but she becomes known for her creative and innovative work.

Carbry - Carbry becomes a professor. What better way to make a life out of learning, and bestowing it upon others? He does a lot of hands on research focusing on the history of curses and other magickal occurrences.

Hendry - For a while, Hendry isn't sure what he wants to do with his life, especially since he's never had any of the normal experiences that he's heard about up until this point. He encourages Alistair to pursue writing and tries out a few different paths before opening up a small indie bakery. He gets a few opportunities to expand but never takes them because he wants to keep it a warm, homelike setting where you can taste the love that went into every pastry.

Reid - Reid never writes another book. He keeps the MacTavish shop running, but years down the line, he moves more into the research aspect of cursemaking and develops some theories that he handles more responsibly than his previous experiments. Some of them get studied academically and developed into modern cursemaking/breaking advancements.

Diya - Of course I had to include her :) Diya rightfully tells the spellmaking society to fuck off and starts to do her own thing. Ten years down the line and she's known throughout Kendalle for being one of the best magickal fixers.

Thanks for the ask :) Please don't let the excruciating amount of time it took me to respond dissuade you from sending me more lmao, I love to talk about this series and my schedule seems to be a bit less hectic for the time being!

[muzzleroars]

idk if you intentioned it like that, but as someone with chronic pain and fatigue, mike's condition half rotting condition makes me feel at least a bit more seen :,D

Sometimes days are harder than other, overworking is always on the table when you used to be an overachiever before your illness, the constant horror from other people too that , and the fear of some days being worse than others, the fear that you have overdone it so bad that you cant go further like the day before.

There is a fear some disabled people with this stuff dont talk about often because of not wanting to be pitied or looked for, so the more visual depicton of the rotting rather than the internal feeling is a way to kind of emphasize "This is pain. There is a limit he reached and keeps overcoming, even as he is falling apart"

This though also allows for the plant regrowth of mike to also be a hopeful thing of what comes when you finally respect the limits of your own body and learn how to treat it. Allowing your body to heal and you to learn new ways of enjoying time, even if its not the same as it used to be. Its not the same and might never be, but there are other, gentler ways to enjoy things now. Now you are even enjoying the bird chirp you never heard as you were rushing from task to task.

Once again sounds probably like rambling, but mike is just his own little garden of eden and learning how to tend to it means learning how to tend to himself too

thank you so much for this message, i'm really happy to see that this aspect of michael's character comes through because that's exactly what i'm trying to portray. michael is very much meant to show the physical and mental burnout one is left with after years of overachieving and perfectionism, coupled with becoming ill in a way that prevents him from continuing to achieve that standard. some days he tries to work to that same capacity, but he realizes more and more he's pushing himself to extremes when he's left combating much more severe symptoms as a result. at first, he fights against his body, treating it as an enemy, an obstacle, a weakness, forcing it beyond what it can now do because acceptance is just too difficult. if he can still perform as he once did, if he never slows and carries out his duty as the prince of heaven and warden of hell, then nothing has changed. he can make himself sick over and over again, trapping himself in a vicious cycle that only breaks down a body in desperate need of more care, but if he can still, eventually, force himself through another day of how he once could serve, he can deny his illness. but through the care of his siblings and v2, he gains an increasing appreciation for his body as it is now and what it is capable of. understanding his limits is a slow process, but as his fear and anger and grief are attended to, so can he now attend to his body, feel love for it and for the plants that grow in it now. they're so happy to have life and he starts to feel through them, finding himself in this body like he never before had the chance to.

i was diagnosed with a chronic illness a few years ago, and i went through these stages to arrive now in a place where my life is very different from before but i'm okay with it. i wanted michael to be similar, and that's also why i don't find a way to just "heal" characters - they are not broken because they are ill, and i want them to achieve fullness in that illness. michael actually lives a much more peaceful life in this new body, one that initially invoked so much hatred and fear but becomes beautiful as its own little garden even though it is the same as it has been ever since it died. there is still difficulty no matter how long it's been, there is still frustration and hardship through what has been lost, but he, overall, is happier, calmer, and more connected to himself than he was before his illness. disability is a complex thing and i know we don't all relate to it the same, but i just drew on my own experience and im so glad it could resonate with you too.

[fangbangerghoul]

My week in a set of photos~

This week has been a hell of a banger. Started the week really high on life to crash halfway through. Got a new hoodie I've been wanting from a friend. Yes I'm a Hasanabi head, if you haven't noticed that's on you. I feel like I make it pretty obvious on here.

Brother got me Cyberpunk for steam so I've gotten to play about 3 hours of that and I officially put 150 hours into MTAS.

Totally skipped a good chunk of reading this week and need to get on the ball for a project due Monday. It's about my state's laws surrounding substance abuse which thankfully I like to learn in my free time so I have a head start.

Several things have become apparent to me this week:

1. I can't live life unmedicated

2. My feelings are valid

3. Burnout before midterms is very real

4. There are going to people you don't vibe with and that's okay, limit contact and interaction.

5. The writing process isn't linear

6. I've made some real friends this past few months and I love them.

7. Art is subjective

8. Bush did 9/11

9. If I have one more dream about a damn cop I will make it everyone's problem

10. I just wanted to make this list to 10 after I got to 6 because it felt right in my soul.

Also go check out the Valentine's Day art trade masterpost! Everyone within the server did such a marvelous job and they deserve all the praise! I'm so grateful that people were even interested and participated. The finished pieces were just icing on the cake for me.

[unrequitedloveletter]

Hi !! I’m binge reading all your writing rn and I’m still looking obsessed <3 I’d love to request any of the crows x a reader who’s an identical twin, their twin is very outgoing and knows the crows well as they’ve worked together for heists and such but the reader is basically the opposite, they’re on the quieter side and prefer literature and baking to whatever the crows are getting up to. When they meet the crows they’re mistaken as their twin, maybe because their twin asked them to help on a job without informing the crows? Anyway I don’t really have a preference for what type of writing this is or the crows it’s for ^^ thank you :D 👾

The Librarian-platonic! crows x gn! reader

Hi! I'm so sorry that this took me a while--my tumblr inbox is being glitchy and weird atm and requests have been disappearing and reappearing at random so I caught this in my inbox while I was lucky.

As the title indicates, I added one thing! The reader is a librarian because I was like "they gotta have a job. They like to read, librarian it is" and I hope that you're okay with that!

Generally though, thank you for sending this in, this concept was a lot of fun and definitely a good way to try to get myself used to writing requests frequently again after several months of near-burnout and demotivation.

Fic type- this one is literally just fluff

Warnings- mentions of murder (generally), mentions of murder by thwack of thick book to ones head, and theres an allusion to body parts being cut up and put into a box, then leaving that box to float to the bottom of the ocean (Jesper refers to it as slice and dice, and I promise it's less graphic than it seems)

You didn't know why you'd agreed to help your twin. You were their opposite--they were all about the life of crime that most Barrel residents lived, where you were content to work at the library you'd been working at since you were seventeen and sell your baked goods at the market stalls on the weekends.

You did not like the Barrel at all.

You resented how easy it was to find yourself a victim of pickpocketing whenever you wandered into a gambling den on that side of town or even just while you walked through the streets.

You much preferred your apartment and the smell of fresh cinnamon buns to the vague smell of swamp mingling with gasoline and peoples loud, rowdy ways as they ambled from one gambling den to the next. You hated the idea of all of it--why dress in your finest if you're intending to go gamble, when there's always a chance that you'll lose everything you gave, and lose more than that when your aim had been to win it all back after the initial loss?

But still, agreeing to help your twin was a commitment you'd made. You had the layout of a library with something valuable and had agreed to go to the Slat to draw up a sketch, but the hand on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks.

You proceeded into the Slat--the building your twin had said to meet up in--and sat at a table after grabbing yourself a brandy. Like they were being brought to you by some kind of gravitational pull, a tall Fjerdan and the girl he had on his arm walked up to you.

"Y/T/N?" the girl asked. "You've just left the Slat for breakfast. Did you change your mind?"

You blinked, confusedly. "I'm not--"

Another girl spoke up from behind you, and the sound of her voice startled you just enough to make you flinch.

Where had she come from? Was she the kind of person who could steal peoples secrets from the shadows? Was she a spider who hid in the dark corners where people were too oblivious to look, taking their conversations back to the infamous Kaz Brekker in the aim to turn over a profit?

"Not Y/T/N," she said. "Their twin."

A gray eyed boy with guns on his hips approached next, arm lazily draped over a boy with dark red hair and eyes that made him resemble something of a deer when startled.

"What are you doing in the Barrel?" He asked. "Your twin says that you tend to keep to your routine. Working at the library in the Financial District during the day, spending your friday nights baking so that you can sell your goods at the market stalls. You're not the type to come round here."

"They wanted to meet with me," you said. "There's a library out in the countryside that's become a tourist attraction since the Merchant Council actually put effort into proper marketing for it? I've visited every other weekend since it opened. They said that they need me to sketch the layout in the absence of a blueprint, which I know for a fact was destroyed in case anyone tried to steal it to figure out the best entrance and exit points. Did they not tell you they asked me for help?"

"What's your cut of the final profit?" You didn't have to know that voice to recognize it. It was Kaz Brekker, the most infamous criminal in all of Ketterdam, the only person who'd scared Pekka Rollins away from anything, even if the thing he'd scared Rollins away from had been his own criminal empire.

"Can I ask you what all of your names are first? Despite how much my twin talks about you, I don't know your faces, even if there's a near guaranteed chance that I know your names."

"Inej," said the girl who'd snuck up on you. "Inej Ghafa. The boy with the guns is Jesper, the doe eyed one is Wylan. Matthias is the big, blond, brooding yellow tulip who's glowering at you right now, and the beautiful girl on his arm is Nina. I'm sure you know who Kaz is?"

"Too well," you said. "How's the leg?"

Kaz smirked as the crew began to pull up chairs, where he took the spot to your right.

"It could be better than it is now, but it's not as bad as it is in winter. Your cut of the money?"

"They promised to give me 40 percent of their share if I sketched out the layout," you said. "You're being paid twelve million for this. I get just less than one million after the math is said and done."

"In the interest of paying the reason that we get this heist right as rain with minimal issue fairly, what is twelve million through eight?" Kaz asked the group that'd formed around the table whilst you'd been too focused on taking a sip of your brandy to notice.

"1.5 million," Wylan answered within seconds. "Cuts two million off each of our paychecks."

"Well, if Y/N is decent for a blueprint sketch, I'm sure you be too busy with the knowledge that you still have your lives, the clothes on your backs and the homes to which you'll go to notice the half a million you would've missed out on."

Jesper grinned at you. "He's terrifying," he said. "But, in the end, fairness in terms of these things is important to him. He's greed incarnate but he doesn't take well to enemies, so he's making sure your twin doesn't rip you off."

"A baker-slash-librarian and literature fanatic is hardly an enemy," Nina interjected.

"They've got books as tall as the length from my wrist to the bend in my elbow in some libraries," Jesper said. "They hit Kaz with one of those while he's not expecting it, he goes down quick. His death can be made even quicker, provided they use chocolate chunks--which require chopping on a cutting board--in their baking. Slice and dice, ship him to the bottom of the ocean in a box that's two feet tall and one foot wide, and all evidence of their having murdered the Bastard of the Barrel is gone."

"Killing Kaz Brekker is not in my interest," you said. "Not at all. Matter of fact, just sketching this is, and even then, the money is the only reason I'm here. I mean this respectfully, but I miss home. I miss the comfort of my bed and being able to enjoy a fine Wednesday morning without worrying about losing a twenty kruge bill while I walk back home."

"Y/T/N said you were aloof," Nina commended. "Like Matthias. Do we have a liar in our midst?"

"No," you said. "Though I wouldn't say aloof is the right word. I would say quiet, reserved, and uninterested in crime are the right ones, but you've caught me in a moment of sass. Let me switch the brandy for wine and I'll get angsty instead."

Jesper barked a laugh, Wylan, Inej, and Nina grinned. Kaz smirked, and you saw a glint of horror pass through Matthias' gaze. It made you laugh.

"Relax, Matthias," you said. "Want me happy, I'll take a glass of kvas or some gin."

You saw his expression relax, and just shook your head. You were in for a hell of a time with that crew, and part of you couldn't wait for it to really begin.

[sprout-fics]

Hey Em!

You've talked about popular writers jumping ship extremely quickly when it came to cod/tlou/mandalorian before, and I'm extremely curious to hear the opinion of an active writer in the cod fandom; would you say the fandom is slowly dying out now that new (perhaps "better") things have emerged?

This is a good question. I think there's several angles on which to approach this

Writers are free to pick up and drop projects and fixations as they choose. Just because something interests them one week doesn't mean they are beholden to it for the rest of their life. Writers in fandom write for free, and there's no contracts mandating they stay with a fandom or series or franchise

A lot of writers pursue more popular and recent things for the interaction. This is a tricky area because it's a bit like the chicken or the egg question. Do writers go to new fandoms and chase trends for interaction? Or do writers go to new trends and bring existing readers with them?

On that former note, interaction does play a heavy part in this. Readers (especially recently) are notorious for picking up and dropping interests at the drop of a hat, and recently it seems like fandoms chew up and spit out media so quickly it gives writers whiplash, myself included. Nobody is talking about TLOU anymore even though it only finished a month and a half ago. Same with the Mandalorian. People have shorter attention spans due to how much time spent on the internet, TikTok (on which I could write an essay) and the vast amount of media that can easily distract us.

So writers who ask and plead and beg for interaction, morsels of fadom building, find themselves being pulled by their audiences to new interests in an effort to chase said interactions. That is a perfect recipe for burnout, and I can speak to at least a dozen writers in my community who have said as much. There's this push for more, more!! and then it seems to fizzle out overnight and leaves us all behind

In short, I don't think it's solely an issue with writers. Fandom is changing, it is becoming faster, less in depth, far less involved, and as a result a lot of writers, especially us older ones, find it very difficult to keep up as a result and end up just burning out entirely. The COD fandom is no exception. Some people are staying on, but as writers and artists find it hard to connect with audiences who burn through interests and not leave any lasting impressions, it becomes harder and harder for this fandom to remain active.

[mxescargot]

OC masterlist

misc/multiple universes

garv (fishboy)

prima (tropey good guy)

vindicta (tropey bad guy)

ursa (dark magic bounty hunter)

ari (light magic bounty hunter)

urban fantasy/superhero

premise: a timeline that diverges several years before ours where a significant minority of the population across the world contracted strange illnesses that led to various magical powers; focuses on the Eastern United States (aka what im familiar with). themes of disabled justice and solidarity.

micheal (he/they): friendly college kid who always puts others before himself, teleportation powers

jem (any pronouns): an old self-insert, shapeshifting powers

ayaan (he/they): kid with unique powers that mess with the fabric of reality, of particular interest to the villain

emilia (she/her): sociologist studying how superpowered people interact with a society built for non-superpowered people, recently gained fire/energy/plasma powers of her own in an accident

saiorse (any pronouns): software developer and emilia's spouse. he does not have superpowers

alison (he/him): evil CEO (maybe also politician?) looking to take advantage of superpowered people for his own gain. especially young, powerful superpowered people. i do not know how to write villains tbh

high fantasy: the world of An

premise: weird mix of some of the history i'm interested in, with a technological level of around the 1840s to 1860s? focuses on a governmental transition from absolute monarchy to parliamentary democracy and the greater inclusion of ethnic minorities in the political system and society as a whole. the people are sorta kemonomimi-hobbits with mammalian and insectoid features. also has eldritch shit going on in its magic system.

these are some of my oldest characters and have changed a lot, their original concept was a "five elements" thing and that still shows through.

the names are based on my conlang :> i didnt try to make the romanizations look pretty, just functional, so uhh ⟨v⟩ is a schwa and most letters correspond with IPA values but idk if thats accessible. here ill replace j with y and v with whatever letter looks best, you can see the mess of the "official" spellings in the tags. they dont exactly have a gender system like ours so pronouns are what i imagine they'd use if raised in our culture and language yk

baa'oni (they/she): activist reviving the long-suppressed/erased (idk what the right word is) life-related magic practices of their ancestors. name translates to "sundew"

lausa (she/her): noble who uses her position of power to help incite change, eventually becomes prime minister. romantically involved with baa’oni, causing suspicion and controversy. name translates to "shadower"

laanya (they/them): self insert. former water magic student reconnecting to it after trauma, also tries to get involved in activism. name translates to "river delta"

treyii (they/she/he): young and uncertain, pressure is put on him to achieve great things and they don't know where to belong. name translates to "sparks"

unnamed character referred to as "wind guy" (they/he): a vengeful prince with command over the weather.

star wars

premise: focuses on jedi fighting in the clone wars. i mostly made these characters in quarantine lol

aiya (they/xe): twi'lek anakin skywalker on a budget. padawan during the clone wars, becomes an inquisitor.

rakiss (she/they): mirialan; Aiya's fellow padawan and very close to xem. killed in O66

haalas (he/him): togruta; aiya's strict master, very loyal to the light side of the force itself and scared of losing another padawan to the dark side. survives O66, but is eventually killed by aiya, who blames him for rakiss's death.

malice (they/she/it): dathomiran zabrak who was the first padawan of haalas. left the order and turned to the dark side, but isn't with the Sith.

ekiv (she/her): rakiss's master, also a mirialan, and longtime friend of haalas. mom friend, but only because she's a people pleaser with massive gifted kid burnout. survives O66; assumes a new identity and learns how to heal.

hizta (any pronouns): tusken ex-bounty hunter who now runs a droid repair shop on coruscant. acquainted with aiya before and during the Clone Wars, aids the Rebellion.

penelope (she/they): human; old colleague of Hizta's. generally fairly cold and professional until you get to know them; actually very affectionate.

i also have some underdeveloped clone trooper OCs

hollow knight

cornu (they/them): HKsona. void-corrupted snail shaman capable of harnessing both soul and void magic.

unnamed fairyfly OC

[circlejourney]

so idk if it was clear but. I'm doing really bad. Constant brain fog, spontaneously breaking down, hiding from Discord. I've gotten so used to handling burnout like this, by forcing my mind and body to go through the motions of moving and doing, that even now I'm working.

I promise, I am not saying this to make anyone feel bad for giving me things to do, I can't begrudge anyone. I am the one who accepted those responsibilities or social contracts. I didn't think it would come down to this, though it is very much my fault that they did.

I can't work on commissions + do business management and accounting for commissions + prep for and then tutor 2 university classes + write a research paper + run a study not related to the research paper + attend all the meetings I have set up in the next few weeks + run a zine + run the zine's social media + manage physical distribution of the zine + volunteer to do an online panel + make verdicts on a community album with >100 submissions + manage the emotional pressures of several different projects relying on my contributions, all at the same time, while dealing with the worst insomnia, relying on medication to sleep and also idk cooking and cleaning and doing the things needed to stay alive.

I made several mistakes to reach this point. I now have to respect that this is unprecedented even for me. It is my fault because my way of coping with feeling like I'm bad at things (i.e. all the time) is to give myself more things to do. And because I'm incapable of saying no or telling people I'm overwhelmed.

But rn even seeing unread messages sends me into an anxiety attack, and the thought of sacrificing even one evening to relaxation feels the same as throwing it away. Pretty much the only non-work/obligation-based thing I am capable of convincing myself to making the time for rn is time with my partner.

I get it, if I don't rest, I'm never gonna be in the best state to work. But I can't afford to rest. I've gotten in too deep with too many things and I'm scared for them to grind to a halt, or even fall apart, without my help. I know life will go on without me. but who can trust me anymore if I can't fulfill the responsibilities I signed up for?

if you wanna respond please respond here I am not checking my main discord this is the only place I'm looking at for non-work things that non-IRL friends have access to