Ur Soooooo Welcome And Im Glad You Like It Sm 😭💕

ur soooooo welcome and im glad you like it sm 😭💕

I JUST REALIZED I FORGOT THE THINGS IN YOUR SONA'S HAIR ON THE SECOND DRAWING- 💀

my part of an art trade with @blurryfangirlansuke <33

and i know i didn't have to do it at all but i made another lil drawing because i felt like it (n i feel like the first one isn't good enough so huh- TnT)

Duke was kind of difficult to draw at first but I tried my best,, I remember when I saw the series for the first I instantly loved it, I thought my art style was similar and it gave me motivation to become an animator but I'm don't have enough time or motivation to do animations now,,, anyway from what i saw daria made a really good job and i like the serie very much, thank you blurry for this AT and make me look at the serie again :]

THATZ IT ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

Free Palestine🍉🍉

Please support, and reblog

•☽────✧˖°˖ SODA FOUNTAIN ˖°˖✧────☾•

★ Summary: A Compilation of Headcannons Featuring Salesperson ENA X Autistic Reader

★ Character(s): Salesperson ENA (ENA: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcannons, SFW

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ She notices it before you speak. The stillness. The quiet intelligence you wear like a hand-me-down jacket. The twitch of your fingers, the tick of your breath, the way you hesitate before stepping into noise. ENA does not judge. She categorises. She studies. Her head tilts, sharp and interested. “Are you experiencing a SYSTEM OVERLOAD, partner? We can reorganise your sensory pyramid. Let’s start with the silence.” And then she sits beside you. Doesn’t speak again. Just… lets you be. Two opposing halves, resting in symmetry.

☆ When you info-dump about your favorite hyperfixation—whether it’s beetle taxonomy, train models, or a single obscure cartoon that aired once in 1998—Salesperson ENA’s red side lights up like a business expo. “Wow! You’re pitching an entire emotional enterprise, I love it. Could I subscribe to your newsletter? Or… marry it?” The meanie side, pale and sharp, cuts through the room: “HEY. IF YOU INTERRUPT AGAIN, I’LL CHEW YOUR FACTS INTO PIECES AND SPIT THEM INTO A MUSEUM!” You blink. She grins. Both sides are listening. Really listening.

☆ Routine? ENA treats it like a sacred business model. “So your Tuesdays require specific cereal-to-milk ratios and one (1) viewing of That Video With The Cat Screaming? A delight. I shall PRINT THE SCHEDULE and laminate it with my tears.” She starts mimicking the routine too, sometimes dramatically over-committing to it. One day she shows up at your door with four bowls of cereal and a projector. “Oops! I over-scheduled our scheduled overscheduling. Let’s recalibrate!”

☆ When you get overwhelmed—when the lights scream, and the noise becomes too much, ENA does not ask what’s wrong. She knows. She flips her hat backward, lowers her voice. “Time to switch gears. Come with me, my love. Let’s find a sensory haven.” And then she takes you under the table, into a bathroom, or behind a vending machine where everything buzzes in exactly the right way. She creates a little ritual with you. “Let’s play the quiet game, but instead of being quiet, we just exist. No rules. No points. You win by breathing.”

☆ Touch is complicated. Sometimes it’s comforting. Sometimes it’s a full-body fire alarm. ENA respects that like a legal clause. “Touch threshold acknowledged. Engaging… emotional contract.” She offers you her mitten hand when you’re okay with it. The yellow, clawed one stays behind her back unless you request it. She even makes laminated cards: [Touch okay] [Please no touch today] [I would like a pat on the head only] You catch her referencing them with comical solemnity. “Hm. The oracle says we’re on [Headpat Hour]. Shall I proceed?”

☆ You stim. Flap your hands. Rock. Mumble. Hum. ENA? She mirrors you. Not to mock—but to validate. “Ohhh you’re FLAPPING?? ME TOO—WEEEHHH!” She makes it a duet. Sometimes it’s a whole musical. She turns your stims into a ritualized language. A way to say “I’m okay” or “I’m not.” She calls it your “corporate communication channel.” “I am now subscribing to your emotional data stream. Please keep broadcasting.”

☆ Sometimes people talk over you. Treat you like you’re slow. You don’t always have the words right away. ENA sees it. Salesperson smiles. “Pardon me, but you’ve exceeded your cruelty limit.” Meanie bites. “SHUT UP AND LET THEM SPEAK, YOU MOIST JELLYSACK.” ENA’s loyalty is a crashing stock market. Loud, sudden, intense. But always on your side. She will fight GØD if you’re being misunderstood. And then offer GØD a limited-time coupon.

☆ You script your conversations sometimes—rehearsed lines to get through tough moments. ENA? She calls it “performative theater!” “Oh! A fellow playwright! Let us prepare Act II of this Grocery Store Encounter Scene!” She even starts playing along, adding her own scripted responses. “Hi, how are you?” “I’m functioning within acceptable parameters. And yourself, my most esteemed collaborator?” She validates your way of communicating like it’s art. Because to her—it is.

☆ When you mask—when you try to be “normal” in public, even if it hurts—ENA sees right through it. She leans in close. “I see you under the disguise. The real CEO of your own joy.” She doesn’t ask you to stop masking. But she reminds you, gently, that you don’t need to with her. “You’re already profitable as yourself. No quarterly reports needed.”

☆ Your existence to her isn’t “difficult.” It isn’t a puzzle to be solved. You are anomalous. You are nonlinear. You are wonderful. And ENA, caught somewhere between marketing lingo and existential dread, wraps her arm around you and says, “You are the most reliable investment I’ve ever made. I hope you know that. Even if this whole world crashes… I’d still pick you.” Her Salesperson side beams. Her Meanie side nods like a glitching earthquake. She means it.

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laul-self-fif

5 months ago