actually i'm traveling but

Some words of clarification, if you will allow me.

The reason I came up with words like “neuronarrative” is because I see a need for such word. It’s that simple.

I see that right now on the Internet “maladaptive daydreaming” has two pretty different meanings, and the phrase is used interchangeably with no explanation in many different communities.

It’s like you have two groups of people. First is people who love drinking alcohol on the weekends or holidays, enjoy it in moderation, like talking about it and creating new cocktail recipes and so on. And second is people who struggle with alcohol addiction, feel like their drinking is out of control and wish they could quit it. And both groups use exactly the same terminology!

As you can guess, it creates a lot of misunderstanding and confusion. You have some people who talk about how much they love their daydreaming and how it helps them in everyday life and who think it is the most wonderful thing in the world, and you have others who haven’t left their house for three days because they couldn’t stop daydreaming or who lost friends because of their daydreaming addiction. Both exist alongside in one community and call their experience maladaptive daydreaming.

I think it’s not fair to either of them. Those who think daydreaming is a positive force in their life need spaces to enthuse about it and share their stories and feel like they are not weird or wrong. Those who think it is a negative force need spaces to complain about it and seek help and discuss their problems and not feel like their issues are diminished. And accurate terminology can help separate them and better articulate their thoughts and explain their experience and reduce the misunderstanding and conflict.

So that’s why I came up with “neuronarrative” to describe unusual and intense daydreaming that isn’t seriously harmful to the person experiencing it, and wrote an article to explain the difference (http://autisticworlds.tumblr.com/post/153905673680/new-terms-and-explanations). I’m not saying you absolutely have to use my word, but I do think we will need separate terminology at some point.

But essentially it’s up to you which words to use. The community is new and diverse. There are no rules. Do what makes you comfortable. It’s your choice. I wanna call my experience neuronarrative. You can make up your own word, or use other words - reclaim them, change their meaning, adapt them for your use.

All I want is less confusion and confrontation and a better community where people’s needs will be met and where they can feel safe and welcomed. But I’m just one person. It’s up to you, every single individual in the community, to choose what to do and create a place that is good for you. And I’ll try my best to help you.

3

@ask-kimdaily I cannot express how thankful I am for the fact that this one got here in one piece and not lost in the got dang mail like the zine (I’m still hella bitter at usps fite me) Also I’m v thankful that your lovely art has blessed the bts side of my shelf I’m love you <3
I put the sticker on joonie’s frame cause that’s exactly how I feel: how dare this ball of sunshine and life look this cute in my house- what a pleasant outrage!

Thank you for all your hard work Kaye, keep up the good work buddy!

fereality-indy  asked:

When a small blade seemingly cut open the air in front of them, creating a shimmering oval shaped portal , Ladybug gently grabbed Chat's arm and stopped him from running into it head first saying, "Remember, curiosity killed the cat."

When a small blade seemingly cut open the air in front of them, creating a shimmering oval shaped portal, Ladybug gently grabbed Chat’s arm and stopped him from running into it head first saying, “Remember, curiosity killed the cat.”
Chat Noir grinned. “Good thing I’ve got nine lives, milady.”
She rolled her eyes and grabbed his tail, wrapping it around her palm to give herself a steady grip. “Just take a peek and let me know what we’re dealing with.”
He nodded and leaned in, glancing around once his torso was fully inside. The skyline was almost identical to the Paris skyline on the other side of the portal, except it was now a silhouette with the sunset as its backdrop instead of the sunny afternoon still warming his legs and forearms. He jumped at the sound of a soft chuckle beside him, and he turned to see a taller, more broad-shouldered version of himself watching him.
“Are you lost?” the other Chat Noir asked, balancing his baton on his shoulders.
Chat Noir stared, slowly looking him up and down before asking, “Are you…me?”

Old Gray Ghost picture/fanfic I never finished.

Trapped in the Ghost Zone, lost beyond measure, Valerie stumbles across Clockwork’s domain. What she finds there is almost unimaginable–Portals through time.

With a touch of a button, Valerie is able to undo what she believes is Phantom’s greatest evil.

But changing time, even a little, can change everything…

aka an AU where Valerie stops Phantom from taking the ecto-skeleton in Reign Storm, and winds up in a different timeline where Ghosts rule the World.

8

Willet - Doctor Who AU

“Why doesn’t she remember me?”

because of this??? i guess??? i just really wanted to write cadmus!alex and root meeting




“Are you okay,” a voice asks.

Root ignores it. It had taken her a while to find an overlooked corner in this base, and now she that has, she just wants to sit alone while she gets her bearings back.

“It’s just,” the voice continues, “you kind of look like crap, and I’m trying to get better at this whole-” It trails off. “Or I could send one of your friends over?”

No. Root doesn’t need Shaw to be dragged over here for nothing, or for Reese to try and pretend he can connect to her, or for Finch to look at her in quiet pity.

She looks up. It’s one of the women from before, the one whose excited tumbling questions Root had tuned out when she realised that her connection to The Machine didn’t extend through universes. Root’s already forgotten her name.

She’s leaning against the opposite wall, eyes wide and fixed on Root’s face, and no, she doesn’t need this.

“I’m fine,” Root says and the woman’s face lights up.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d speak to me,” she says, “sometimes people don’t,” and her smile is awkward, like she’s trying to make it softer but isn’t sure how.

“I wonder why,” Root says, and it’s sharp enough to hurt, or at least it should be, but the woman just shrugs.

“Lots of reasons,” she says, almost gleefully, “but like I said, I’m trying to get better at this whole-” She makes a vague gesture, and Root realises that she must have done that the first time too.

Root’s not entirely sure why, but she finds herself asking, “What?”

The woman blinks at her, and Root repeats the gesture she’d made.

“Oh, you know, hero stuff. Helping people for entirely unselfish reasons,” she says the last part stiffly, as if she’s learned it by rote, and Root allows herself to grin, ever so slightly.

“You get lectures on morality too, huh?” she says

“Oh my god, all the time.”

“Try having someone do them in your head,” Root says and the woman rolls her eyes.

“I do,” she says. “Telepaths.” She tilts her head to the side, a considering look on her face. “What’s your opinion on laws?”

“There’s too many of them,” Root says immediately, and the woman snorts.

Thank you,” the woman says, and this time her grin looks much more natural on her face. “I’m Alex, by the way. Wasn’t sure if you’d remembered.”

“I had,” Root says, automatically, before she realises it could be a test, but the woman’s, Alex’s, face lights up again at the thought that Root had remembered her name, and god, there’s no way this woman could ever do anything that underhanded. Root isn’t even sure this woman could lie without it being broadcast across her face.

“So,” Alex says, “why Root? Biology or programming?” She frowns, “or something else? I’m not sure what else it could be though.”

“Programming,” Root says, and Alex groans. “You’re a biologist,” she guesses, amused.

“Well I never actually finished high school,” Alex says, “But yeah, I like biology.”

She says the last part almost casually, like she’s trying to hide the sheer amount of feeling she really wants to put in those words.

Root wonders if she sounds the same when she talks about programming.

“I didn’t finish either,” she offers. “Dropped out to become a hacker and killer for hire.”

“Kidnapped by a xenophobic cult.”

Well then. “You win.”

“It’s not a competition.” That one sounded like it was learned by rote as well.

Everything’s a competition.”

“I know,” Alex says, laughing. “My sister- You met her earlier actually. She’s the one who always tells me it’s not a competition, and she’s the most competitive person I know.”

How many people could you know, Root thinks, and it would be the perfect thing to dissolve this conversation, but Alex’s laugh is awkward too, like she’s surprised she’s able to do it, and for some reason Root doesn’t want to stop it.

“Which one was your sister,” she says instead.

“Oh,” Alex says, pleased. “The one with blonde hair. And the super-suit. I can’t tell you her name, even though you’re from a different universe. Secret identity,” she says seriously. “I have another sister too,” she adds. “Sort of.”

“How can you sort of have a sister?”

“When her mom kidnaps you and keeps you hostage for a decade. Well,” she pulls a face, “adoptive mom,” as if that’s the part that needs to be clarified. “And she doesn’t really get that we’re sisters yet, but she will.”

“I’m sure she will,” Root says, and she’s pretty sure Alex wouldn’t even be able to tell if she was being sarcastic, but Root says it sincerely anyway.

“She will,” Alex says, quietly fierce. “It’s just-”

She sighs, slides down the wall until she’s sitting opposite Root, feet crossed.

“Feelings are hard,” Alex mumbles, and oh.

Oh, because Root’s maybe sort of dating a sociopath and worshipping (workingforhelpingelevating) an AI, and they should be the best people to understand, but Shaw says that feelings are stupid and The Machine says that feelings are beautiful, but in Root’s opinion? Feelings are hard.

If The Machine was here, she’d say that Root’s found a human connection, and she needs to nurture it, but The Machine’s not here and Root doesn’t want this, doesn’t want to find a connection in this stupid backward universe where people fly around in gaudy costumes and aliens roam the streets and nobody had thought to create The Machine.

“Feelings are easy,” she says instead, because Alex is awkward and distractible, and, in all likelihood, easy to lie to.

Instead, Alex grins.

“You’re an asshole,” Alex says, because it’s true. “I like you,” she adds, because that’s true too. “I’m not meant to do illegal things,” she says, thoughtfully, “but you still seem upset and I get the feeling you’re the kind of person whose idea of fun is illegal. So, if I do something illegal with you, then I’m doing it for an entirely unselfish reason. To help you.”

Well, what do you know, Root thinks, grinning back, maybe Alex can be underhanded after all.

Aman walks into a bar.

To the right of him is A Lady with a golden tooth holding a golden fishing rod with a golden boxing glove as the hook. There is a gun on the counter, and behind the counter a stack of books. He takes a seat at the counter and orders a drink, looking rather glum. The Bartender asks the man why he is so down. Aman says “My life is a joke”
The Bartender scoffs and replies to Aman “You wanna make something of yourself?”
Aman nods.
The Bartender says “Everyone in here is about to die, only you can find the culprit and stop them”
Aman looks up “Okay I’ll do it” he says and stands up.
“It’s too late” The Bartender says “They’re about to kill us all right now”
Aman replies “Then I must go back and stop them”
“Thank you” says the bartender
“But how do I go back and stop them?” Aman ask
“You know how” says The Bartender.

Aman walks into a bar.
To the right of him is A Lady with a golden tooth holding a golden fishing rod with a golden boxing glove as the hook. There is a gun on the counter and behind the counter a stack of books. He takes a seat at the counter and orders a drink, looking rather glum.
He ask the Bartender “What was the murder weapon?”
“A punch line” The Bartender replies
Aman scoffs, “This is too easy, I know who did it”
“Then save us” The Bartender replies.
“One last thing” Aman says “Is my drink ready?”
“It will be ready soon” replies The Bartender

Aman walks into a bar.
To the right of him is A Lady with a golden tooth holding a golden fishing rod with a golden boxing glove as the hook. There is a gun on the counter and behind the counter a stack of books. He takes a seat at the counter and orders a drink, looking rather glum.
Aman picks up the gun on the counter and shoots Lady with a golden tooth holding a golden fishing rod with a golden boxing glove as the hook.
“She does it” He says “She had the punch line”
“No she didn’t,” replies The Bartender “ and she doesn’t do it, only a fool would believe that”
Aman sighs “Is my drink ready”
“It will be ready soon” replies the Bartender

Aman walks into a bar.
To the right of him is A Lady with a golden tooth holding a golden fishing rod with a golden boxing glove as the hook. There is a gun on the counter and behind the counter a stack of books. He takes a seat at the counter and orders a drink, looking rather glum.
Aman picks up the gun on the counter and shoots Lady with a golden tooth holding a golden fishing rod with a golden boxing glove as the hook.
“I need to stop believing that the Lady with a golden tooth holding a golden fishing rod with a golden boxing glove as the hook does it, that she has the punchline” says Aman “How do I stop being a fool”
“You could get a formal education” says the bartender “But thats a heavy price”
“A price I am willing to pay” says Aman.
“You will need these” says the Bartender as he picks up the stack of books from behind the counter and sets them down.
“Thank you” says Aman as he picks up the stack of books “Is my drink ready?”
“It will be ready soon” replies the bartender

Aman walks into a bar.
To the right of him is A Lady with a golden tooth holding a golden fishing rod with a golden boxing glove as the hook. There is a gun on the counter and behind the counter a stack of books. He takes a seat at the counter and orders a drink, looking rather glum.
Aman picks up the gun on the counter and shoots Lady with a golden tooth holding a golden fishing rod with a golden boxing glove as the hook.
Aman sets down the stack of books on the counter
“Can I get a formal education?”
The Bartender takes the stack of books and sets them behind the counter, he then pours Aman a formal education and gives him the odd specifically named drink.
Aman drinks the formal education and feels a bit smarter.
“Thanks” Aman says “Though I think I may now have a headache.”
“Don’t blame the bar” says The Bartender “Blame yourself for walking into it”
Aman reflects on his life choices and ask “Is my drink ready”
“It will be ready soon” replies the Bartender

Aman walks into a bar.
To the right of him is A Lady with a golden tooth holding a golden fishing rod with a golden boxing glove as the hook. There is a gun on the counter and behind the counter a stack of books. He takes a seat at the counter and orders a drink, looking rather glum.
Aman says “The Lady with a golden tooth holding a golden fishing rod with a golden boxing glove as the hook did not do it and she does not have the punchline”
“Well only a fool would think she did” The Bartender says
The bartender offers Aman a bag of ice.
“No thanks” Aman replies “I like my formal education warm.”
“You need to stop walking into this bar” says the Bartender “It is probably the cause of your headache”
“This isn’t a bar,” says Aman “it’s a punch line”
Aman readies himself and ask the Bartender “Is my drink ready?”
“It will be ready soon” replies the Bartender

Aman walks into a bar.
To the right of him is A Lady with a golden tooth holding a golden fishing rod with a golden boxing glove as the hook. There is a gun on the counter and behind the counter a stack of books. He takes a seat at the counter and orders a drink, looking rather glum.

He quickly grabs the gun on the counter and whirls around and points it into the bar he just left.
He sees himself in the past getting a bag of ice from the bartender, further back he sees himself getting a formal education, before that receiving a stack of books, before that foolishly shooting a lady before that him asking the bartender about a the murder weapon, and at the begging, him telling the bartender his life is a joke.
Aman grits his teeth and pulls the trigger.


Aman grips his chest, riving in pain from just being shot and tumbles onto the floor. He manages to pull himself back into his seat and is sobbing loudly.
“I told you!” Aman says to the Bartender

“My life is a joke,”

The Bartender slides him the drink he ordered

“It’s about time!”

4

“…that don’t look like me, punk.”
“!? ‘Course it don’t, as if I’d ever draw you!”
“Well, he’s a looker, I’ll give 'im that. Smart chin. Who’s he?”
“Shut up.”  

Just… stop trying, Steve. Ssshh. Get kissed. Sit down. 

(Stucky ☆★ Palette #2 for memoryrecovery

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I Think There's a Flaw in My Code || Travelers S1
This show! I am currently very much infatuated with Travelers (it's all on Netflix by the by, so go check it out if you haven't). And since I've been away fo...

Hey, Travelers fandom! I’ve been working on this for a few days and am excited to share the final product with you guys! We need more fandom material! :)

Hope you guys like it!

  • me: Oh! Look! This musical is in Vienna this fall!
  • reason: Yes, that is neat.
  • me: How much are tickets??
  • reason: You have never so much as been on a plane, let alone left the country.
  • me: *looking up plane tickets* Ooh! That's not too bad for round trip!
  • reason: Stop that. This is not reasonable.
  • me: Hey this hotel has good reviews and a decent price!
  • reason: FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. CAN YOU NOT.

Upon rewatching the Dirk Unite/Synchronoiation video again, it occurs to me that unless he dove down to scavenge some from the decimated remains of Houston below his apartment, Dirk has never broken a window before. This is 1. Amazing considering he’s a Strider, 2. Doubly amazing considering he’s a kid living without supervision, and 3. Giving me ALL THE FEELS ABOUT DIRK ABANDONING HIS CHILDHOOD HOME, POSSIBLY NEVER TO RETURN.

This was his home and fortress and shelter for his entire life, but it was also a very tiny cage, and literally breaking out must have been so liberating. I bet he’s dreamed of doing that since he was tiny, just saying screw this place and ollie-ing out the window. Leaving it alone and unprotected from the elements, the sea salt and water and storms that could wreck all his precious computers, because he’s DONE there, he’s finally on to better things.

and so summer vacation begins ☀✌😎