wrong button

We need to stop acting like “romantic attraction” and “sexual attraction” actually exist. I know they’re really popular fanfic tropes, and can even be good when well written, but this has gotten out of hand. Some people think it’s real. Didn’t we learn anything from Goncharov? Please start tagging your posts with unreality.

tags from coloredcompulsion:

about adhd

it concerns me that people really don’t know that adhd isn’t a personality type or behavioral problem.

adhd isn’t someone who’s personality is driven by fun and disorder.

adhd is someone who’s brain goes all over the place looking for dopamine, because it doesn’t make or register enough of it, and when it finds a source of dopamine, it hyperfixates on it. it’s about deregulation of attention as well as emotions.

it’s not a person who can’t behave. a person with adhd can look like a lot of things. misconceptions about what adhd looks like kept me from even looking for a diagnosis, and it also kept myself and others (professionals, even) from taking my suspicions seriously.

everyone’s encouraged to reblog, but if you don’t have adhd, keep your additions to the tags.

Smart people can have ADHD. And a lot of the time, they compensate for the ADHD with intelligence- until they reach the point where they just can’t overcome it anymore, which is why a lot of gifted + ADHD people have good grades their whole lives and then “suddenly” crash and burn. For some it’s college, for some it’s grad school, for some it’s postgrad or professional exams like the bar. Whenever the things they have to do can no longer be brute-forced at the last minute.

ADHD is often lumped in with learning disabilities but it’s really a DOING disability. We know what we should do. Probably we know six ways to do it. The trouble is actually getting our brains to activate so we CAN do it. Sometimes it’s like you’re being controlled by aliens or something because you say “I need to do X” and you’re going to do it and you just. Don’t.

pirates of the caribbean really introduced an eldritch octopus man who kills indiscriminately and torments the dead as their poster villain and then you watch the movies and it's like, "oh no, actually the worst villain in this series is a small white british man who functions as the herald of capitalism" and that was very very brave of them

The conversation around media piracy is never really going to be a black-and-white "always good" or "always bad," because it's so situational.

I'd really prefer people didn't pirate my book, because I am an independent, self-published author who makes like thirty cents per sale and regularly has to e-beg in order to get groceries. Maybe don't pirate from people in my situation.

Meanwhile, it's currently very imperative that people preserve as many things being purged from HBO Max as possible, because even the creators are saying they don't know the fate of the shows right now. The corporations that own everything are screwing people over and restricting access to the art.

Authors have been screwed over by publishing houses over book piracy issues, and legitimate sales numbers can sometimes make or break an author's career. In that sort of circumstance you should get books through shops or the local library, if you can.

But on the flip side, I recently tried very hard to go through legal sources to get my hands on some books for a project I'm working on. Half my booklist is out of print or hard to find, the local libraries didn't have it, the inter-library loan system was complicated to navigate, and the only "accessible" copies cost almost $100 on Thriftbooks. Pirating the PDFs is the only way I'm able to read them at all, just like several documentaries I downloaded that are only available through paid streaming services I can't afford.

Sometimes piracy is a dick move, sometimes it's vital to media preservation, sometimes it's a grey area, most of the time you've gotta make a personal judgment call on what constitutes "ethical piracy."

I generally adhere to the guideline "fuck over as few artists as possible; fuck over corporations as much as you can."

After months of research and development and market testing and perfecting the first item I feel confident selling online, I have realized... that it is an incredibly niche item that only a specific subset of absolute nerds would want to buy, and I will have to do a ton of explaining the basic idea over and over again before people generally get what it is I'm even selling. RIP me

Long story short: I'm selling embroidery patterns. You stick them on fabric, embroider them, and wash the pattern away to leave your embroidery shining in solitary splendour.

Long story long... here goes.

Daughter of fantasy villains decides to rebel against her parents by actually going through with her arranged marriage to a local golden retriever of a prince instead of running off with some local villain-to-be or conquering said golden retriever’s kingdom and ruling it solo like her parents expect her to. Plus, sue her, she’s into the clean-cut earnest look.

At the same time, local prince charming discovers that he’s actually very into the gothic fiance his parents have landed him with in order to try and establish peace with the local evil lair down the lane, he would never have guessed a spiderweb pattern could look so fetching on a ball gown…?

Meanwhile, two pairs of parents in a tizzy because they both expected their offspring to whole-heartedly reject this union and give them an excuse to conquer their goody-two-shoes/evil neighbours, they’re not supposed to actually like each other-!

respective friend groups undergoing culture clash like all of prince charming’s knights are like what vile spell has been used to ensorcel our prince.  we must be on our guard for surely this is but a ruse for an assassination attempt

meanwhile the villain bride’s friends are all like clearly he loves you not, why do you persist in a manner that will ensure your own heart break, i mean if he was taking this seriously there would be at least three assassination attempts by now.  it’s like he doesn’t even notice that you have massive amounts of dark power to covet for his own

smashcut to

fully armored knight, clanging through the hallways in attempts at stealth, blades drawn: i’m just saying, i took an oath of protection.  this feels wrong.

prince charming: it’s not wrong, it’s celebrating cross cultural traditions for my beloved bride

knight: it’s attempted murder

prince charming: it’s a loving attempted murder

@chucktaylorupset  Meanwhile the bride has a bouquet of roses, cornflowers, and wheat sheaves on her desk in her room, and she’s not coming out until she’s written a beautiful and moving poem about how they favourably compare to her groom. It’s been three days. She’s gone through an entire raven’s worth of quills (unethically sourced). The ‘toads who used to be my friends’ list has gone up by one. But she’s bent dark forces and eldritch spirits to her will and, by the powers obscene, this will not be the thing that breaks her.

Sorceress friend: Please, just get him an amulet that will double his power at the cost of his soul, no one’s worth this.

Rebellious villainess: (nearly in tears) No, he brought his best knights to the castle and tried to kill me last week, at midnight, I can’t ignore something like that! He even kicked Cathulhu!

Sorceress friend: He nudged it with his foot. And then he apologized to it. In tears.

Rebellious villainess: (actually in tears now, for reasons of feels instead of poetic torment) He’s trying so hard!!!

He learned his lesson

Nah you guys don’t get it. For all that Gandalf complained about Pippin, he better than anyone else knew that Pippin was absolutely crucial. Pippin accomplishes a very impressive feat: not only does he manage to see something in the palantír (most hobbits would perceive nothing, as these stones were designed for use by high elves), but he manages to close his mind against Sauron. That is a seriously impressive feat of ósanwë given Pippin’s youth and almost total inexperience. The only clue Sauron manages to glean from the meeting with Pippin is that he is in Meduseld: which Pippin probably did not even directly give to him. Pippin did not tell Sauron his name, so Sauron is led to believe that Pippin is Frodo. I remind you, in the books, the Good Guys manage to trick Sauron, by making him believe that Aragorn has claimed the One Ring. They can only do that because of Pippin’s ridiculous feat of ósanwë. Far from sabotaging the mission, he is the one who allows it to succeed (albeit, not on purpose). This is why Sauron doesn’t think anything is fishy when Aragorn wins the Battle of the Pelennor Fields by controlling ghosts: that would be consistent with the idea that he is using the One Ring. Which Sauron believes that Pippin brought to him. This is why Sauron pulls out his old “play nice and weak” card from his Númenor days. He first of all believes that Aragorn is a lot more powerful than he actually is, and secondly thinks that the Ring is beginning to affect him.

He should perhaps have remembered that Aragorn is named for Fingolfin. Fingolfin’s mother-name, Arakáno, would properly be translated to Sindarin as “Aragorn”. Most people would not show up to an enemy fortress with an army they knew was far too small, and start a battle they knew they would lose. But Fingolfin famously did exactly that.

When you read the line “fool of a Took!” It is important to understand that in the context of Gandalf calling himself a fool on several occasions. Galadriel too sees beyond the veneer of foolish naivety in Pippin. She gives him and Merry belts that almost definitely were once her brothers’. A golden flower on a gift from Galadriel can only be a golden lily, the sigil of the House of Finarfin. Galadriel, while all hell was breaking loose in Tirion, raided her brothers’ rooms and took their belts from when they were little kiddos, hauled them across the Helcaraxë, and then held onto them for three Ages before giving them to two hobbits she just met. Merry, of course, is comparable to Angrod and Aegnor: his great deed is done in a moment of beserk rage, and it is a feat of strength. This then implies that she is comparing Pippin to Finrod. That’s one hell of a complement coming from Galadriel: but as I just pointed out, entirely warranted. Pippin manages to reproduce Finrod’s feat of radio silence, in the face of torture by Sauron. Which again, is extremely impressive given that Pippin is far younger and less experienced than Finrod was.

You see me <3

I don't respect christianity but they kinda popped off with cathedrals but ONLY for the purpose of having a cool backdrop for fighting horrible nightmare beasts

What if they have snails crawling down the outside?

Holy shit, this can’t stay in the tags!

Tumblr user perfectlyspreadbutthole is the funniest person alive

Reblog with your score

HOW?

you can’t seriously exclusively play minecraft?

i can and i do

How to make ice cream in Alaska

reblog if your name isn't Amanda.

We’ll find you Amanda.

this has almost 11 million notes what is this

I’ve never seen this post once in 10 years on this site

@hellsite-hall-of-fame

I’ve never even heard of this before tho??? Wtf??????????

oh my god, I didn’t think there were any surviving versions of this post left

For those who weren’t around in the Deep Lore times, this is one of the relics of the editable post era. This post has THE SINGLE HIGHEST NOTES of ANY post on this site, bar none, but with more than a dozen variations. Every single post you’ve ever seen with more than 3 million notes has been a different version of this one.

This is the “Dean’s Gym Shorts” post. This is the Flubber post. This is the original “Reblog if you support gay people” post. it was ALL of them. before half the site got nuked, it had even more notes than it has now - at one point, well over 15 million, and that was years ago.

This, with no exaggeration, is the ONE TRUE heritage post

A mark on your forehead identifies the god you must worship to stay alive, usually by joining its local church or temple. Your mark is unknown, meaning an old, forgotten god sponsored you. To survive, you must either find an old temple to worship at, or do the arduous task of building a new one

Nobody in your small coastal village has ever seen the Godmark that you were born with. It’s a dark russet sequence of criss-crossing lines, with a vertical arrowhead on the left and a circle on the right, just over where your brow meets your temple. Some of the traders who come down from the mountain say it looks like one of the scripts used in the hinterlands, but not a language that any of them recognize.

“If she’s got the temperament for it, she should try her luck inland,” they advise. “No point her starting a temple here if she’d find her people elsewhere, with a little searching.”

At first, your parents are reluctant to send you away. Though you’re well-behaved and diligent in your chores, you’re a sickly child with no God to worship. And besides, you’ve always been the dreamy type–inclined to lose track of time watching the path of rain droplets chasing down the window, or the fronds of an anemone as it sways in a rock pool.

Instead, they send you to the temple of the Storm to learn all you’ll need for your own God. You are happy there, for a time: making up beds and serving food to the castaways who pass through, keeping vigil at the lighthouse, burning incense and praying with the loyal widows and orphans of the drowned.

One such widow, an old, old lady, touches the mark on your forehead. “I recognise those letters. We wrote this way in the town where I grew up, way off past the mountains.”

Your heartbeat quickens. “What does it say!?”

She squints, eyes engulfed by wrinkles and hidden behind smudged glass. “A… Ar… Oh, I can’t remember how to speak it. I left before I learnt my letters properly. There was a war, you know. But I remember,” she says, mistily, “the most beautiful pink and white flowers used to grow, on the borders of the wheat fields…”

You try to ask more questions, but remembering the war distresses her, and so you speak of other things. When she’s drifted off to sleep, you get to your feet, go home and tell your parents: you are leaving in search of your God.

I met a guy on MySpace when I was 13 many moons ago. He lived the next town over. We talked about David Bowie, and stayed friends when we both abandoned MySpace. Every few years we’d discuss meeting up and hanging out and never actually followed through.

His 33rd birthday party is tonight, and I have a passive invitation. Do I show up? Would that be funny? I don’t really have anything in common with him anymore but I do like the idea of crashing a party of a near stranger who’s known me most of his life.

Fuck it. I made him a jarrarium so I have to go. As my partner said, my willingness to commit to the bit is one of my most attractive qualities.

Showing up with red eyeliner and three days of facial hair, a silver scarf, a military jacket, and psychedelic cowboy rain boots. MySpace boy doesn’t know what’s in store for him (jar of wet plants).

ONCE AGAIN choosing chaos works out great for me.

Deciding to crash MySpace boy’s party unannounced after a lifetime and years of no contact led me to a den of bisexual polyamory, cats that took a pet like no problem, and an extremely long and powerful hug from a drunk girl, and a bunch of likely new friends who eagerly recommended canes that light up and glow in the dark.

the fuck man do i have a tumblr criminal record or some shit ??

“If someone is going to kill me over this fic, just please let it be Deathstroke.”

“Okay so hypothetically I work at Wayne Enterprises and the big boss man (the boss) maybe ships Superbat???? And saw me updating during my break?????? And asked how he could find it????????? Also rip, Mr. Timothy Drake Wayne Jr the Third, but your dad is one of us now and no upwards looking pleas are going to stop him.”

“My neighbor just gave me a thirty minute lecture on multiversal theory and I will now be incorporating that knowledge into my next fic in the most cursed way possible. And, I mean, the guy knows a crazy ton about the Justice League? But also, like, whose favorite gotham hero is Red Robin lmao?”

“Me: *scours the web for fic research purposes*

The mr. Batman on my computer: is_this_a_pigeon_batman_rogue_meme.jpg

[Alt text: is this a pigeon meme showing man with Batman mask over face holding up a sign that says nightwingsbabe. Text across bottom reads: is this a rogue?]”

“This fic is dedicated to that one time I saw Red Hood trip off a rooftop and Spolier laughing at it for twenty minutes. You are my new ship.”

“Just saw the newest episode of the Mandolorian and will now be shamelessly inserting Red Hood into the Star Wars universe. No I’m not projecting what are you talking about. Anyway, only love for papa hood here. Everyone else go die in metropolis or something idk.”

“Black Bat is the coolest bat. That has nothing to do with this fic I’ve just been hearing a lot of VERY WRONG opinions lately and needed to come set the record straight.”

“I’m not in a cult, I promise.”

“I’m from Gotham. You’ve been warned. Read the damn tags.”

“Major character death is the Joker. Because this is gotham and that’s the escapist fantasy we all engage in here.”

"look I tagged this fic with both Dead Dove: Do Not Eat AND author is from Gotham so you don't get to freak out about the gratuitous violence when you were explicitly warned that it was gonna get graphic"

"well I'm posting early but this hasn't been beta'd because my beta is currently detoxing after the last Scarecrow attack, so please be kind. And also maybe leave a kind word in the comments that I can share with my beta? They need it."

"sorry not an update just a note to let everyone know that this fic will be going on hiatus until the latest Arkham breakout is resolved - I'm okay, it's just that Gotham is going into a mandated blackout. You know how it is."

“Sorry I didn’t update I just got out of blackgate.”

“I’ve written so much about red hood that good keeps autocorrecting to hood. I’m completely normal about him I swear.”

“Two Face attacked the office last week and poor Mr Wayne was missing like the entire time. Can someone get that guy a bodyguard? And like, a therapist or something? Anyway, I’m home from the hospital now with plenty of time to write. Expect all the updates.”

“I got a disappointed dad sigh from nightwing. That has nothing to do with this I just wanted to share my emotional pain.”

“soooooo uh apparently being an insomniac writer with poor impulse control in Gotham has some benefits??? I was hanging out on my fire escape with my laptop and uhhhh well i probably shouldn’t give too many details bc i dont wanna dox myself but uh. everyone say thank you to Red Hood for fucking???? Beta’ing this oneshot????? I know it sounds fake, trust me, I was THERE and it still sounds fake to me”

“you aren’t allowed to @ me for the “wrote this during a joker gas attack” tag unless you have lived a minimum of 6 years in gotham okay. you don’t GET it.”

“so if some of the dialogue sounds familiar its because you might’ve heard it on the news recently during the last Riddler uh.... thing. and its NOT in bad taste okay, no one died this time”

“i wanna thank everyone for all the sympathy after the last chapter, when i mentioned in my authors note that my brother had been murdered, it really meant a lot!!! but he’s back now so it’s all gucci :peace_sign:”

“This one is for the Signal. You’re insane and I love you so much.”

“How come Robin gets a sword and I don’t? He’s like ten. Anyway, have a fic with a ton of swords because someone won’t let me get one.”

“Genuinely laughing my ass off at the comment from the last chapter. I know exactly who is from Gotham and who isn’t and I love you my fellow hell-dwellers.”

“Guys this fic ended up being set in Metropolis I’m so sorry.”

“No beta we die like Gothamites on Tuesdays”

“Does it count as RPF if it’s the anthropomorphism of the bat signal and the batmobile? Asking for a friend.”

“fun fact! if you write commissioner gordon/batman smut, it gets mysteriously deleted from your profile within 3 minutes of being posted, and you get a terrifying email from Oracle that I don’t dare to repeat here! Anyways, enjoy this re-written smut, now featuring Batman and Green Arrow instead. Since I guess Oracle is watching me which is TERRIFYING.”

“new rule: you can’t complain about anyone writing Red Hood like a massive fucking nerd unless you, personally, have heard him quoting Jane Austen while chasing a bunch of muggers down your street.”

“this one goes out to Spoiler, for no particular reason other than I still remember that time I looked out my window and saw her hit Robin in the head with a fucking brick on the next roof over”

“no beta we die like joker goons”

“to the commenter who proposed marriage to me after the last chapter: i’m flattered, but i’m saving myself for Batgirl. If you ARE Batgirl, hmu babe <3″

“I think the guy next door works for Red Hood but like, that’s cool, right? They’re fine? Anyway, he knew so much about guns and fighting and stuff so have an actually well-written fight scene for once.”

“Writing from the hospital. Again. Can’t believe I got caught in the middle of a gang war again but I did get to see Red Hood shoot Black Mask and it made my whole year so honestly worth it.”

“No beta we die like Robin’s patience with the goons who were apparently using swords wrong and yes it was glorious and I’m pretty sure Spoiler filmed the entire thing so someone ask nicely and maybe we can have that forever.”

"so this chapter has a lot of cool animal facts in it but I cannot take any credit for research - Damian Wayne visited the animal shelter I volunteer at and basically gave an impromptu lecture. It was cute! And I really enjoyed it, so uh... have Robin lecturing some henchmen about proper pet care, I guess lmao"

"Y'ALL the dead robins club is REAL, I heard Nightwing reference it while he and Red Robin were waiting for the cops to pick up the guys who were trying to kidnap me (I'm fine btw don't worry). Anyways. VINDICATION."

"I did such a deep dive into Gotham's legal system, and also the NJ legal system in general, that I maaaaaaay be going to law school after I finish my undergrad???? So. There are SOME benefits to being a Two-Face fucker. Maybe."

"not Flash stans in MY comment section :crying_laughing: get outta here. This is for Gotham gremlins only."

This is not my fandom. I don’t know who half these characters are.

And yet, I feel EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE deep in my soul. All of this is correct.

This is my fandom and you are correct.

So the tire-eating potholes in my neighborhood finally killed both my rear tires and I had to get that dealt with, but while they were getting replaced, I put the dogs in puppy daycare and upon picking them up early, the attendant literally sprinted to the front desk, grabbed me by the shoulders and breathlessly exclaimed "YOUNEEDTOCOMESEEWHATYOURDOGSAREDOING"

While she escorted me back to the play yards, she explained that every time they have more than three Corgi, they have to put all the Corgs in a separate play yard because they turn into a little gang and bully the Very Large dogs by playing Cow Herding Simulator 5000 with them, and especially if Herschel is there, because corgis are bossy-pants dogs, and Herschel has the bossiest pants of them all and acts as leader.

Despite being a little Don Corgleone to the short bitch mafia, Hershcel is also a Huge Baby and will apparently cry and cry and try to climb the fence and cry and eat people's shoelaces and cry if he is separated from Charlie during playtime, so this means any time that "Corgi Party" is happening, Charlie also has to go to Corgi party, despite being full-height, running cat software and a senior citizen. he copes with being Gulliver amongst the Liliputians by climbing onto the roof of the playskool castle they have for a climbing structure in the yard, kicking the ladder down behind him, and stretching out to nap in the sun while the corgi frolic and gambol around him.

Corgi are dogs that make up and play games with secret rules, like kindergartners. "Everyone bark in sync" is a popular game, as is "follow the leader" and it's companion game "March in a circle around a tall structure like ants caught in a death loop".

So what I was greeted with, when the attendant and I snuck out to the play yard, was the sight of Charlie, sound asleep and flat on his back with his paws crossed over his chest because sighthounds sleep in the stupidest fucking positions, on top of a faux-medieval castle with gargoyles on the corners, surrounded by approximately seven Corgi, all trotting in a circle around him, barking in sync.

"They look like they're preforming some kind of ritual!" giggled the attendant as attempted to get my phone to focus.

"Yeah, they're gonna summon Corgtulhu." I said.

Unfortunately, this made the attendant literally fall on her ass laughing, and distracted Herschel and his compatriots, so they didn't get to complete the summons, and I didn't get the pic.

The attendant kept laughing because apparently she's new to puns, and had mostly gotten it under control by the time we got everyone's leashes on and back out to the front.

The manager was watching the front desk, bemused. Did you get to see them doing the ritual?"

"YEAH!" shrieks the attendant, still excitable with merriment. "THEY'RE- THEY WERE-" The attendant ends up giggling on the floor.

"You okay there Katie?" asked the manager with minimal concern.

"We think they were trying to summon Corgthulhu." I eplain, and Katie screams from the floor. "Wasn't gonna work though, you need a virgin sacrifice and Charlie had an STD when we got him."

It was the manager's turn to shriek. and for Charlie and Herschel to start barking in solidarity.

"That's right Charlie! Your sluttiness saved the world!" I told him, as he jumped up and kicked me in the face.

Anyway, that's why Charlie's nickname at daycare is now "Superman(whore)"

---

If you found this story amusing, please consider donating to my Ko-fi or pre-ordering the Family Lore book on my Patreon so I can buy the good dogs more treats.

We really do live in a society lads

Society may produce un-traumatized autistic people.

They just can't get diagnosed. Because an autism diagnosis requires problems: Difficulty with communications, with managing emotions, with physical behavior constraints.

An autistic child raised by compassionate parents who don't mind that their kid won't meet their eyes to talk, who don't get upset at hand-twitches, who avoid clothes that the kid doesn't like, who help the kid understand their own emotions and how to recognize the emotions in the people around them ("see how his forehead is crinkled? That means he may be upset, or he may just be thinking hard, but either way, he's probably not happy")... may not have noticed that the kid is autistic.

There's a reason a lot of autism isn't recognized until school - because parents that just pay attention to their kids and adapt their communication to what the kid needs, may not set off any of the "problem indicators." And a compassionate school may manage to bypass them as well, especially for girls, who are less likely to have the "fidget" behaviors, and for whom "speak softly while not making eye contact" isn't usually considered a red flag.

...if the person's symptoms don't "affect quality of life and functioning," they don't get diagnosed. If their surrounding community is supportive, they may not have "difficulty communicating and interacting" - just a different style than most of the people around them. And their interests may be seen as "well, that's what they're interested in; it's cool that they have a hobby."

Autism is only officially labeled when it causes problems for neurotypicals in the autistic person's community.

Non-traumatized autistic people are just "a bit odd," and the medical industry doesn't recognize them.

Rare American W

americans, i truly believe we can get 100%