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alleiwentcrazy · 1 year

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“Wow, man, that’s nasty. You should get that checked.”

Someone’s standing in the doorway, Steve’s sane enough to notice that. This someone is wearing the infamous hospital gown, is hooked to an IV, and has Nancy’s hair. Which is exceptionally weird, because Steve has always believed that no one could achieve that kind of volume. Especially while living in a hospital.

This someone is also, not unlike Steve, wrapped in several layers of dressings to shelter their burns from everything that’s bad in this world: infection, stares, more pain.

(Steve isn’t so certain about the last one, though. He sure is in a lot of pain at the moment.)

So someone is standing in the doorway, he’s positive. This someone is staring at him, their gaze curious and open, and it’s not a nurse, and it’s not a doctor. Partly that’s why Steve doesn’t believe that this person is even real at first. His visitors must wear gowns and gloves—something about it being too early to risk an infection. So despite the hair, it is not Nancy.

It’s a someone. Maybe. Probably. Steve doesn’t know—his eyes are barely open and he’s too high on painkillers to differentiate between dreams and reality. When the sweet numbness overwhelms him again, he has half a mind to say: Maybe it’s an angel, standing in my doorway.

***

As Steve’s recovery progresses (and the amount of painkillers he’s being pumped with decreases), he gets more and more aware of reality.

For starters, he learns that he’s not living some sort of fever dream. He was—is—a firefighter, who got pretty badly burned, and his sides, some parts of his belly, back and arms need very special and very expensive treatment. Hence the hospital bed, the gown, the dressings, meds, pain, et cetera. This burn center is going to be his home for the next few weeks, and Steve’s okay with that. It means that he got to save a life, even if his own was put at risk in the process.

He can live with that, definitely. With the scars and the pain, no problem. What’s killing him now is his own curiosity.

He hasn’t been seeing angels, turns out. He’s been seeing fellow patients – one patient in particular. That someone who hovered over the threshold when he first started his recovery. Steve’s been seeing him almost every day, taking slow steps across the hallway, dragging his IV behind him, the patchwork of dressings and scarring tissue changing frequently.

Without fail, each time this man passes Steve’s room, his steps slow down. Sometimes, he sends Steve a wink. On better days, Steve supposes, when the scarring on his cheek doesn’t bother him that much, he gives a flash of a smile. Even on the worst days, when walking serves as torture, he acknowledges Steve with a nod, like they know and respect each other.

Everything about him is a mystery to Steve, though. He, too, returns a small wave or a nod or anything, but he still half-believes he’s seeing things that aren’t there, so when this man with long, wavy hair and ridiculously brown eyes passes his room again, he can’t hold it back any longer.

“Beth, who’s that?” he asks. Beth, his nurse slash new hospital friend, looks over her shoulder. When she finally figures out what he means, she smiles.

“Isn’t that your angel?”

He looks at her completely mortified.

“Please, tell me you’ve just made that up.”

Beth laughs and adjusts the position of his bed. “Sorry, love. I’m afraid that everyone heard your delirious tirades about long-haired angels taking you to heaven.”

With how heavily her “everyone” implies everyone, he doesn't even have it in him to groan. He shouldn’t have listened to Robin when she told him that his high is one of the best things in the world.

***

“How come you never scream?”

Steve’s eyes have been shut tight for the whole time his doctor was poking and prodding around his wounds, but now they’re wide open and he, too, wants to ask himself that. How come he never screams? It’s the most pain he’s ever felt in his entire life. It’s ripping him apart, it’s eating him alive, it’s killing him, but he never screams.

He just keeps his eyes closed, waiting for it to be over. Thinking about Robin and his kids, about how he has to stay strong and never show fear because it’s his job to keep them safe and away from the pain even if—or maybe especially if—it comes with taking the pain on himself, bearing it, being torn by it. He keeps his eyes closed and doesn’t think about his failures or the times he was too late to save them; he keeps them shut because he knows that there are going to be more times when he’ll have to keep his eyes open to spot the danger ahead.

But his eyes are open now, open and staring at the man standing in his doorway, backlit and glowing like some non-human entity, asking him such a simple thing that will, without a doubt, make Steve circle down the drain when he’s alone again.

Steve doesn’t dare open his mouth. He’d scream if he tried, and he cannot afford to do that.

“Mr. Munson, you really shouldn’t be here right now.”

Steve shuts his eyes back again.

***

Steve’s recovery is slow, slower than anticipated. When he first got here, his doctors said he’d be able to walk soon-ish, but it’s way past “soon-ish” now and he’s still tied to his bed. It still hurts like hell, he’s still woozy from the painkillers, even though the strongest stuff is out of the question, he’s made sure of that. He’d rather feel everything than risk another embarrassing situation. Maybe it’s stupid, but that’s how it is.

Mainly, Steve just feels lonely. He’s allowed to have visitors, but they can’t stay with him as long as he’d like them to—mostly because they have lives outside of this hospital while Steve’s entire life is in this hospital. He’s lonely, he’s bored, and he’s envious out of his mind, because the man from his doorway gets his walks every day and Steve dreams of nothing but being able to move a little.

Each time Munson walks past his room, he stares. He can’t help it. He doesn’t have a mirror in here, but it’s painstakingly clear to him that he’s glaring daggers at a man that hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s just so jealous—his body aches, but it’s a different ache; it’s an ache of being still for too long. An ache of being out of the game. Steve hates being out of the game. It makes him come up with the worst possible scenarios—but he has to thank both his burns and his head trauma for the dizziness, weakness and total lack of coordination that keeps him from starting physio.

With each passing day, his stares get more daunting, but the man doesn’t stop sending him smiles and nods. He knows it’s irrational and unfair, taking out his own fears and anger on someone who can’t do anything about his situation, who’s in an equally shitty situation, actually, but he’s still working on not being mean without a reason. And it seems so harmless, because this stranger never stops smiling at him. No matter how much Steve tries, he can’t seem to convey his feelings, because Munson never stops.

It irritates him even more, enrages him to a point. When Munson smiles at him one day, Steve can’t take it anymore.

“Are you always this chirpy?” he asks, his voice dripping of malice. It disgusts him a little, makes him want to retreat—retreat far away from the version of himself that he dropped years ago, although it’s haunting him to this day. He wants to retreat, but he doesn’t. He pouts instead.

Munson stops in his tracks, raises one eyebrow. He looks amused, and it pisses Steve off.

“Your life must be quite miserable if walking around a hospital with unhealed wounds is your definition of chirpy,” Munson says. It’s supposed to sting, probably, but his smile is still there, despite his injured cheek. Steve’s pout deepens. Munson looks like a cat who got the cream. “Oof, soft spot. It’s okay, sweetheart,” he coos, looking like he’d like to lean against the doorframe, but his injured arm won’t let him. “We can be miserable—oh, sorry. Chirpy, we can be chirpy together.”

Steve doesn’t respond, he doesn’t know how. He feels warm all over. It’s not something he likes. He’d cross his arms over his chest if he could.

Munson stays silent for a moment, a smirk still playing on his lips. The quiet moment stretches out until he takes a big breath and takes a look around. “I’m Eddie, by the way. And I’m very, very late for my usual ‘walk as much as you can but be reasonable, Mr. Munson’ appointment, so I have to get going. But, uh,” he looks at Steve like he’s not sure of something for the first time in his life, even though he’s still playing along. “I could come around tomorrow, Mr…?”

“Steve,” comes the reply. Munson—Eddie smiles, again.

“Alright then, Mr. Steve. Get ready to be the chirpiest you’ve ever been.”

***

The worst thing is, it works. Steve does get chirpier.

It starts out small. Eddie just stops in front of the threshold, spits out the most random, obnoxious and seemingly nonsensical (although Steve suspects they’re all true) fact, like Did you know that cows have four stomachs? or Did you know that geckos can’t blink and they have to lick their own eyeballs to keep them from drying out? or something of sorts, and then he leaves while Steve lies in his bed, suspecting that he’s having hallucinations and fully questioning his sanity. Again.

It gets progressively worse, it does. It gets weirder. At first, Steve isn’t sure what to think of it. Eddie’s strange. He’s also a nerd. He talks in codes, his sentences are long and Steve finds it hard to follow his logic altogether from time to time. But he also makes Steve snort, sometimes even laugh—truly laugh, laugh from his belly. Eddie’s weird, but he’s Dustin-weird, Steve decides. Good-weird. Familiar-weird. Safe-weird.

He makes him feel less lonely. Steve invites him to sit beside his bed after a few days, so now Eddie comes, spits out his random nerdy facts, and they sit and talk around it until the nurses kick Eddie out for not doing his laps.

Steve’s less lonely. He’s so much less lonely he even starts missing Eddie when they’re not together—only a little, but he does. (He knows it’s dangerous. But what’s the harm in that if they’re both stuck here anyway? What’s the harm in a little hospital vulnerability?) It’s quite difficult not to miss Eddie, to be honest. Eddie makes it difficult—he listens when Steve talks, he never hesitates before explaining something when Steve doesn’t get it immediately, he’s patient, but at the same time, he talks so much. The room fills with intricate, engrossing stories and anecdotes whenever he opens his mouth.

The only moments when Steve feels even less less lonely than when he’s with Eddie is when he’s with Robin, and Robin’s the most important person in Steve’s life.

“Contraband,” Eddie says, sitting down on the edge of Steve’s bed one day. He puts something on Steve’s thing – cherry jello and a plastic spoon. His favorite. “Don’t rat me out.”

He smiles at Steve. His cheek is practically healed now; the scar isn’t as big as Steve imagined it from afar, but it sure as hell must have been a menace to get it more or less healed. That’s the only thing they don’t talk about. How they got here, how they got their scars. They support each other through it, but they never dwell.

At least Eddie doesn’t. Steve’s sure everyone knows his story – people love when firefighters let themselves get burned to a crisp while trying to save somebody else, after all, and gossip spreads around the hospital with the speed of plague.

“And get my best dealer behind bars?” Steve asks and scrapes a spoonful of jello from the cup. “They never have cherry. You’re the only one that seems to know where they store it.”

Eddie grins devilishly and leans a bit further. “Do you want to know a secret?” he asks and Steve mumbles something unintelligible in response. “I used to deal,” Eddie says. Steve’s not sure if he does it on purpose or not, but he starts playing with the hem of Steve’s sock, his fingers barely brushing the skin on Steve’s calf. It tingles, but he doesn’t mind.

Steve’s brows go up. “Is that how you got here?” he risks, not really knowing why. He’s not that curious—but it’s the scar on Eddie’s face that’s been haunting him for ages now. So different from his own forming scars, yet, in principle, the same.

Eddie’s face gets softer. Steve can’t recognize the expression properly, it’s different from Eddie’s usual, mischievous smirk. It’s quiet for the longest time, so quiet Steve thinks he’s going to choke on his jello from build-up pressure.

“I’m gay,” Eddie says, suddenly, his voice totally cool and leveled while Steve—

“I’m bi,” he blurts out in response, practically out of breath. To his absolute horror, Eddie chuckles.

“Well, that’s useful,” he says around his crooked smile, “but that’s not what I meant.”

When he points at his face, everything clicks. Steve tries to control his face, but the realization is too sudden.

“What?” he asks before he can think better of it.

Eddie shrugs. His expression is unreadable, but he isn't looking at Steve anymore, his eyes fixed on his own fingers that are still playing with Steve’s sock.

“My band has this one place for gigs that we all don’t really like, but they actually pay us some money. I’ve always thought that it’s enough – this and my arrogance, anyway – enough to scrape by. I’m not too cagey about being gay, and I wanted to spite them, I guess, show them that they can’t win,” he looks up. He looks sad, almost defeated, as much as Steve hates it. “They got their way, as you can see. Tried to pour something on me when I was leaving the stage, but they fucked up, both in terms of chemistry and their aim. It didn’t get me as bad as it could have, so I guess I won anyway.”

Eddie smiles again, but it reaches nowhere near his eyes. He looks so sad, so hurt, and Steve’s so, so angry. It’s easy for him to turn to anger, it’s easy and it’s freeing and he suddenly feels bigger and stronger than he really is, because he wants to destroy something, anything—but he’s not a fighter. He’s a protector. He’s not Nancy; he’s Steve. No matter how hopeless, how betrayed he feels, he doesn’t want to hurt. He wants to heal and save.

“It’s not your fault,” he says, afraid it’s too dumb and too obvious.

“I know,” Eddie replies impassively, looking at him from underneath his too long bangs.

“You said you wanted to spite them. But it doesn’t matter, it’s not your fault,” he drills. Eddie opens his mouth again, but before he gets to say anything, Steve squeezes his knee and looks at him intently. “It’s not,” he insists. “Whatever you said or did, it never mattered. They would have done it even if you’d praised them, you were never the problem.”

Eddie scoffs, but it’s not malicious. His eyes are a little bit glassy. “So you’re saying I’m perfect?”

For some reason, Steve doesn’t have a problem with reading that. Please, let’s not talk about it now. Then foreign fingers graze his own, and he gets it. Thank you, though.

Steve sighs, something tugging at the corners of his lips. The change of topic makes this both heavier and lighter at the same time. He flicks his spoon at Eddie and aims perfectly between his eyebrows.

“Bring me more jello tomorrow and maybe I’ll grace you with saying that out loud.”

“So you’ve thought—”

“Shut up, Eddie.”

Their fingers intertwine in the silence that follows. They look at each other like they can see each other and suddenly, Steve feels the weight of this moment. They’re not strangers anymore—maybe they have never been strangers. Maybe this was meant to happen from the very beginning. He most probably wasn’t seeing angels a few weeks back, but whatever it was that he saw hovering over his threshold, it’s just entered his house and is, hopefully, planning to stay for longer.

#tw for homophobia mention towards the end!!#pining #ok no guys. i do not know what this is lol #matching scars #it's their trope.... in every universe #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #st4 #steddie fic #steve x eddie #firefighter steve #modern au #hospital au #god how is that a thing #listen. i did the research but i've also watched too many episodes of grey's anatomy for my own good so this is 100% not accurate #let me live out the delusions #i've been scribbling down bits and pieces of this one for so long it just needs to see the light of day

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veveisveryuncool · 8 months

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kirby gsa according to someone who never finished the anime:

#upon further research the blue one does not fight with a chain 😞😞 what am i supposed to do now #tag yourself im dragato #guys. i am making up their eye colors i know shit fuck about them.#ok so apparantly the japanese and english names are different?? bro why did 4kids make it so complicated #kirby series #kirby gsa #kirby right back at ya #i have no clue how to tag the characters #my art process is art that i spend hours on and then shitpost two seconds later

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bl-inkstone · 1 year

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changed my tune so fast just bc of youtube autoplay lmao ok here have some sagau diluc thoughts

the player, diluc thinks, is an incredibly endearing being.

he's come a long way from the curt and wary attitude he used to put on around the traveler (and by extension, you), and today is one of those days where he finds himself privately thanking whatever powers there may be that allowed your paths to cross, with him staring at the reflection of you hidden deep within the traveler's eyes in the wake of his fight with the abyss that fateful night in mondstadt.

as one of the first people to have their constellations manifest in the sky of teyvat, diluc is more than aware that the fact that you still choose to ask for his company in your (or, well, the traveler's) journey is a gift he must treasure deeply. he knows that it is your presence in this world that gives vision bearers a chance to become something greater than they presently are. he also knows that he is no longer as impressive of a companion in battle as he used to be from back when the sky wasn't as bright as it is now (when the world you knew was smaller and he was still a figure that you could look to and proudly call "your main").

but you always come back to him. when he least expects it, you invite him back to your party and diluc can't help but privately think, privately wish, that it's because you're as fond of him as he is of you.

standing in silent prayer while you bestow upon him artifacts that thrum with divine power is an experience he can never tire of. the claymores you give him, the food he eats, all the materials he needs to reach a breakthrough in his capabilities... he understands that you aren't teyvat's creator, but this world and everything in it seems to exist just for you. you, the provider, the sustainer, the beloved of all. sometimes, diluc feels that everything he has and ever worked for have all been for the sake of one day meeting you.

he's not a religious man by principle, and he loathes people of absolute power. the only exception to this, however, is you. he's not foolish enough to believe you're some omnipotent, omniscient being that lords above all. no, you're not like that. he knows this because the longer he journeys with the traveler and feels their bond strengthen, the faint whispers he used to strain himself to hear grow clearer and clearer until finally, one day, he hears you.

you're both nothing and everything he thought you'd be. you view the world of teyvat with so much awe and joy that it's infectious, and he finds himself smiling more often than not to the privilege of finally hearing you. the traveler always looks at him with an understanding smile when diluc slows down in their travels to listen to you. he lives for the moments when you talk to yourself or to someone else (a companion of your own, maybe? from your place beyond the stars?) because this is how he learns. your favorite food, your favorite nations, your favorite "characters" and more. he holds every morsel of information you unknowingly give close to his chest where all his affections and wishes hide. he likes to think that this way, he can be closer and better for you.

but he knows he's not the only one who hears you, and it is the traveler that is closest to you out of all them. even so, diluc harbors no ill will to the avatar you chose to see and travel the world through. you're so fond of the traveler, and how could he ever come to loathe anything graced by your love?

he knows how to play nice. it helps that most of your other chosen are people he can find himself enjoying the company of as well. diluc understands that as much as he wants to be the sole holder of your attention, the world does not function that way. he's willing to extend an olive branch so long as they can all work together to keep you present in teyvat. he can worry about his more aggressive competition later when they aren't at risk of being caught in such an unsightly state by you — all that matters to him, right now, is how to keep your gaze on him for just a little longer and keep you from leaving him again.

it's a daunting thing to be so close to your grace. you take diluc to lands he'd never thought he'd visit again, to ruins of civilizations long past, domains with unimaginable horrors and have him run, claymore and vision burning at his hip, into fight after fight at your command. it's tiring at best and painful at worst, but you always take care to heal him and his companions before leaving, and you always lead them somewhere safe to rest until teyvat brightens and you come again.

his current companions (his "supports", he inwardly preens) rest and talk amongst themselves once they feel your presence leave. it used to be something they, your chosen, would panic over, but now that they've gotten more used to you and all the signs that pointed that yes, this is your will, they've grown to be able to tolerate the harrowing chill that comes when your warmth leaves them. diluc leans back on his chair in front of good hunter to observe them. they're all people he's come to grow fond of in time: diona was prickly, yes, but ha become pleasant to be around once they grew past their misunderstandings. the young master of the feiyun commerce guild, xingqiu, was also a reliable companion both in and outside of battle, and for all his faults, venti has proven himself to be a devout believer, unwilling to be a burden to you or the party you've guided him towards.

under normal circumstances, he never would've met and forged such strong bonds with these people. if not for your own interference, he never would've bothered getting to know any of them at all. though he may have his own gripes and complaints at times of how their dynamic works when you're not around, diluc is still fond of them. he's grateful for the opportunity to grow close to people again, and traveling the world alongside them and the traveler has become one of the few things he's begun to look forward to outside of his duties as "diluc, master of dawn winery." when the day is done and he can sit and relax with them in the tables in front of good hunter, he can rest in the company of others who understand the near-maddening pull in his chest that draws him to try and get closer, closer, to you.

it's days like these where diluc quietly thanks whatever it is brought you to them, and prays that one day, he will no longer have to search through the traveler's eyes to see you.

#miyo.muses #diluc.togo #i wrote this all in one sitting please i love him so much #i hope my research did you justice sir #if he sounds awkward or anything id appreciate feedback on how to improve!#diluc is one of my faves honestly and i wanna write more for him #and as you can see #he is a very generous muse #this is worse than when i wrote for zhongli oml #i wanted to keep this short n sweet #just a silly little hcs or brainrot post #but no #this happened #but im not that mad lmao diluc gets a free pass <3 #also pls dont flame the team ok i asked a friend what their diluc team looks like and they said “diona + xing + venti”#dsdhewu i have a very skewed view on what's considered a long or short post but just to play it safe #i added the read more this time bc id hate to be the person who clogs up the tags with super long posts #ok thats it rambling over i hope u guys enjoy <3 #genshin impact #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin diluc #diluc x reader

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norstrum-art · 5 months

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[Image description: Two colored full body pixel art chibis of Matoba Seiji and Natori Shuuichi from Natsume's Book of Friends depicted with cat and dog features respectively. Matoba is grinning mischievously holding a hand to his face. He is wearing a kimono with a white nagagi, a dark blue haori, and shoes of the same color. He has black cat ears, a cat tail, and a cat mouth. The background is dark red. The second image is Natori smiling grandly while winking. He has one hand to his chest while the other is thrown in the air dramatically, and is wearing a black button up under a green jacket, beige pants, and brown shoes. He has brown dog ears and a fluffy dog tail. The background is light sage green. End image description.]

like nya... like woof....... yknow??

#first pixel art. first chibi. i was suffering but i made the catboy matoba of my dreams <3 #the line between chibi and wildly disproportionate body is incredibly thin. I have so much respect for chibi artists now gfdkjg #I originally thought of catboy matoba bc of course. then was like wait... natori but dog... they could be matching besties AND I get to #make content specifically catered to a mutual. targeted post muahaha #also I'm writing this on my computer bc reasons. lots of firsts for me. not for any real reason i just drew it how i felt it needed to be #this was almost a gif but then I was too tired ehe #ok no more tags. bye bye #natsume yuujinchou #matoba seiji #natori shuuichi #natsume's book of friends #norstrume art #i lied. ALSO my first natori. not pictured: me asking myself how the fuck do i draw his hair #and lmk if I got the terms for matoba's outfit wrong i did some research but there are a few kimono types out there i was a bit confused..#norstrum art #new art tag for new url ^_^

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perelka-l · 10 months

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ever ever ever ever ever. Bc I can't write lol.

Overseer Talloran and Omega-1 Draven :)

Alas, it shines very badly after hairspray treatment so it was really hard to take a photo. The pain! The pain!!!

#researcher james talloran #researcher talloran #draven kondraki #Scp #Talloraven #Kinda #Why isn't draven alpha one well one I wanted pain and two idk doesn't fit draven #Also I have a very vidivid image in my brain of draven being like #Hey I got into the mtf that specialises in neutralising foundation personnel and clef be like #You know what I can see why #I have elaborate hc in my brain don't look at me #Fun fact I only did this bc I wanted to move into new palette so had to use what I already had #So. It was a bit painful but also fun I love gouaches you have no idea #watch me and my fail art #overseer talloran #I can't guns pls have mercy I just went bling bling ok #There is so many mistakes but i like everything else #Scp foundation

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oatbugs · 3 months

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pls i need to provide updates

#basically yesterday night was chaharshanbe suri . which is a solar new yr tradition where we let go of the past suffering in our year #and like...start the new yr w fresh vigour . anyway so my friend was at the event and we were abt to leap over the fire #and she was like bro im im glad u blocked her (situationship) etc etc . and then. my phone started vibrating. and i look at it. and my f #friend looks at it. and its her. and were both like what the fuck?? i blocked her things r Over and anyway so i pick up the phone and shesl #acting like nothing happened (bc nothing DID happen for her) and she was like ohh ur doing chaharshanbe suri im not doing anything etc what #are ur new yr plans so i jusr .IDK WHY I DID THIS . but ig i didnt wanna come off as like lonely i said probably hanging out w family and #friends maybe reading poetry together . et cetera and she was like wait that sounds so fun why didnt u invite me!#LIKE WDYM YOUVE BEEN CONSISTENTLY MAKING IT CLEAR U DONT WANT TO BE IN MY PRESENCE . and i told her that after #everything i thought she didnt want to see me again and she was like you always think that 😐 . like. ?? ok anyway so she expects me to #invite her . and like. there is an above 0% but sub-5% chance she will actually show up . but the panic that gripped me #i started making calls to my friends asking them if they can come on the 23rd bc there must be an event and also i asked my mother #and she said actually yeah i am doing a thing on the 23rd :D it involves over 16 ppl (we live in a v small flat) of which like...7 are kids #so you wont have space to be in ur own room let alone invite others. which tbh like ...being around a bunch of loud kids doesnt seem fun fo #any of my friends or me etc so i thought maybe i should arrange things so that we all go out together and if she shows up she shows up 🤷‍♀️#but . im so. WHY DID I SAY THAT . i had to panic-call my research partner and ask him to get from oxf to where i live on the 23rd #and when he heard the explanation he like. the light in his voice disappeared 💀 but he potentially agreed so idk #THE ISSUE IS. 23rd im supposed to also have . a date #w this girl that i had a huge crush on when i was 15-16 (posted abt this b4 but id get shitty black coffee in the mornings just to spend a #few more minuted w her each day and she was the cleverest girl in school and she cared abt nothing but her academics but now shes very gay #scraggly homosexual etc etc shes cute) and YEAH IDK #like id have to go there on the date come back fast meet ppl POTENTIALLY (again under 5%) meet situationship girl #like is that even doable #but the thing is it would be so so so funny bc all of my friends dislike her sooo much #.........what if i invited the girl im supposed to have a date w over to hang out w us #god that would be so hilarious and chaotic . i wont do it tho im a mature person x #but it would be soooo funny #I HAVE AN ASSIGNMENT DUE TMRW 12:30PM IT IS 10:49PM RN I HAVENT STARTED IT bc i was rotting sadly in bed #popped a ritalin pill tho so here we go x #i have found myself in a state of such sheer agony and rage and sorrow and grief over this girl that atp i feel like #its just so entertaining . like i feel vaguely over it? ik nothing will come of it so its like just . have fun . vibe

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adhdandcomics · 1 year

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adding to my tags because i’ve been thinkin a lot about the post i just reblogged and have more thoughts:

i’ll be real, the more i saw ‘hey adhd influencers are so annoying’ the more i worried that i was unconsciously contributing to the spreading reputation of adhd folks as annoying and over-pathologizing every symptom they experience

and then i realized. i am not a goddam influencer or life coach or representative. obviously i have some obligation as someone who cares about myself and the people that like my comics to not spread harmful ideology or blatant misinformation but i never intended myself to be a “’increase your productivity!!’ blog OR a ‘if you have XYZ you have adhd!’ blog. and i do this for fun, and originally started this blog bc i had a lot of internalized shame and self loathing about my adhd and thought if i could make it funny i might have less of that. let’s get real! and it worked!

i’ve obviously done this kind of thing— (hey these symptoms might be adhd!) a lot before in my life & on this blog, but there’s more to it than trying to be an “influencer” or whatever. a term that didn’t even exist when i started this blog!

i felt very isolated trying to find out if i had any mental problems & what have you originally because of large advice (etc) blogs with staunchly anti self Dx views at the time

so i overcorrected when i DID get dxed and tried to validate everyone who was like me. and of course. not the best course of action always for the ol mental health. tried to be the source of positivity and jokes that i didn’t see because the online adhd presence was near non-existent.

and anyway. i make a lot of fun of myself & the way m brain works in my comics obviously but it is not my obligation to... how do you say.... not be annoying online.

because if folks interpret MY little jokes as a strict guide to diagnosis. that’s on them, really, not me. i also believe “making adhd your entire personality” is a non-issue. so what if people find out they have it and get over excited with identifying as adhd. saying this as someone who DID do it. criticism of this gives the same vibes as people being annoyed that young queers make “being queer” their whole personality. im very obviously more than a guy with adhd, and id reckon other adhd comic artists are too. (im friends with a lot of them!) it’s fine to post about it online.

anyway. i just don’t take myself too seriously and i’m a comic artist for myself first! and you know what, i’ve been considered annoying my entire life. what do i care if a few more folks think i’m annoying. neurotypical or not

#i think the article did have some good points especially on the capitalism and marketing angle but i oft think it did venture into #being mad at individual folks who post jokes about adhd. which is literally fine thats what an opinion piece is for lol #i am just very tired of people pretending that a lot of reaction to online adhders is not in itself just an extension of the ableism #we already were facing #'adhd people are so annoying everyone does this youre pathologizing everything' ok and how exactly are you helping.#i hesitate to throw my hat in with hating on adhd tiktok because i am simply not on tiktok and have no way to back up my thoughts #that they may be annoying and oversimplifying a complex disorder on the 'drains your attention span' website.#and i think perhaps the value of each adhd resource varies widely depending on who made it and what theyre even posting.#sometimes its a joke made by a person with adhd. sometimes its sourced and cited research. sometimes its someone discussing their personal #experiences in depth. sometimes its someone talking completely out of their ass. sometimes its THINLY veiled ableism.#its up to the individual to research and determine the value of the memes and resources you seek #anyway. perhaps these points are tough to clarify on sites like insta and twitter. bless.#text #adhd #im punk now #oh and yeah i also agree lots of folks do not talk about the unsavory parts of adhd but rather the funnies and the sillies. but that is #once again a larger capitalism and marketing and ableism problem #r we not talking about them because we are actively trying to infantalize this disorder or is it because we collectively experience a lot #of internalized ableism and hesitate to talk about our worst symptoms for fear of the backlash #weve always gotten about them 🤔🤔🤔#much to consider #if youve read this far sorry for tangent number 56 about this. but also start being more unapologetic about your disorders. fuck it!#<3

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