i meant for this to be a draft

i know the comic hyperbole and a half came out like 473616 years ago and i am once again slow on the uptake

but i’m reading the book
it’s legitimately so funny
like….i am laughing out loud for real and that’s rare (despite my overuse of lol on here #lies) and it’s also just so relatable omg

there’s a lot of dogs
so obviously i’m a fan

(eta: i wrote this hours ago and saved it in my drafts bc i can’t complete a thought….came home and casually mentioned to my brother he should read it…..he stole it and it’s been 2 hours of him just sitting there reading and occasionally giggling to himself and I WANNA READ IT SEAN THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT)

So this is how dates work right

to explain the name post, i realized that the transition from first ormond and sherrinford to john and sherlock was like, practically comical; change one weird name to the most common name at the time then leave the other weird, so i then was like, it’s almost as if there’s a third draft somewhere where sherlocks name is also really common and the first one that came to mind, because it was literally #2 most popular english boy name after John for DECADES, was “william”, AND THEN, I FUCKING REALIZED, THATS WHAT THEY FUCKING DID

samwiseofficial  asked:

Hey Alan! I just saw a post about different types of allistics on my dash... one of them was "The 'Ally'™". I'm allistic and I want to know how I can be a good ally, so I thought I'd ask about certain things mentioned in the post so i can avoid doing them! What are person first language and functioning labels and what can I do as an allistic to be an actual ally (not an “Ally"™)? Thanks so much!

okay, first of all, I’m going to assume that you meant [this post]. If not, sorry. Second, I’m not going to get this perfect. I’m viewing this as a bit of a first draft, which (note to self) I will edit at some point.

definitions: person-first language is “person with autism” as opposed to “autistic person”. Please use “autistic person”. I dealt with functioning labels later in this disorganized hell-post. 

So here’s my stab at allistic ally 101

1) You follow the same rules as if you were an ally for any other group: [Here’s a pretty good ally 101 article], but it’s not the end-all-be-all. Keep listening to autistic voices, and if we contradict the rules hold our voices higher. 

Also, above all, rule #1 of allyship is don’t be a shithead–come to conversations with the intention to listen and learn first and treat us like human beings (this is particularly critical with disability rights)

2) Our voices are the important ones: this is important with being an ally to any group, but autistic people often struggle to communicate or express ourselves. Be patient. Ask people how they’d like to communicate and be prepared to be a bit flexible.

Some autistic people use AAC (Alternative or Assistive Communication), and their voices matter just as much as verbal people’s. You don’t have to learn ASL or anything, but don’t assume that because someone’s not communicating verbally they’re less intelligent or competent. And, even if someone can’t communicate using language (or communicate at all) don’t assume that they don’t have thoughts, feelings, and needs.

3) Nothing about us without us: knowing an autistic person doesn’t make you an expert on autism. BEING an autistic person makes you an expert on autism. If you see anything claiming to help autistic people that doesn’t prominently feature Actual Autistic People, don’t support it (unless Actual Autistic People are telling you to support it, see #2)

This goes double for any charitable organization focused on autism which leads me into point number 4 (also from here on out things are a bit smaller-scope, that doesn’t make them less important):

4) Autism Speaks is trash: [and] [here] [are] [some] [sources

If you want to support charities try ASAN and The Autism Women’s Network

5) Please don’t try to “cure” us: I’m dealing with some internalized ableism with this one, so let me turn you over to  Anya Ustaszewski who in [this article] writes:

My autism is part of who I am. It is not something “extra” that can be taken away from me to suit the agenda of an intolerant society. My abilities, challenges and perception of the world all go hand in hand. If I were to be “cured” of my autism, the person that I am would cease to exist.

so yeah cure = bad, acceptance and accommodation = good

6) Celebrate the things that make autistics unique: lately, tumblr has gotten a lot more stim-positive, but stimming isn’t solely a pretty, paint-mixing or slime video (in fact, stimboards are rarely tagged and can overstimulate the SHIT out of me). 

A lot of time, stimming is viewed as ugly, distracting, loud, disgusting, or socially unacceptable. Support your local autistics, don’t expect people to stop stimming and try not to stare or comment (many autistic people have to work very hard to reclaim stimming after childhoods of expecting to suppress it entirely).

Also, try your best to support different cognitive styles and processing issues. Try to keep your websites accessible, provide image transcripts, try not to make posts that are entirely text in images (like screenshots of twitter posts), and help to subtitle videos if you can. <- these things also help d/Deaf people and anyone who accesses the internet via a screenreader

7) steer clear of stereotypes: I’m not rain man or that dude on the big bang theory or your cousin’s dentist’s sister’s younger brother’s son. The ‘idiot savant’ stereotype is almost never true and puts unreasonable expectations on autistic people. Also, not all of us are good at math or science, have incredible memories, etc. Fitting or not fitting stereotypes don’t change the fact that every autistic person is human and deserves rights and respect.

8) functioning labels are fake: never listen to anyone who describes autism as “high” or “low functioning”. Every autistic person has struggles, and putting labels on functioning basically sorts people into “can be ignored” and “subhuman”. [here’s about a million posts about why they suck because if I put it all here this post would be five times as long]

9) ABA is trash: this is trigger territory for a huge number of autistic people, so [here] and I’m not going to say anything else just take my word on this one

10) If it has puzzle pieces on it, run: if you’re looking to see if a group is okay, look for the rainbow infinity sign. The puzzle piece is a huge red flag. Please don’t support anything with puzzle pieces on it. Please. I’m begging you.

Okay that was WAAY longer than I meant it to get, sorry. Also, I’ve missed a bunch of things, but I’ve been working on this for an hour and I don’t have the energy to add more. I’ll throw this in #actuallyautistic and hopefully someone else can add anything important I missed.

  • Phichit: So, how long have you two been together?
  • Yuuri: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Viktor and I are not together. No, no.
  • Phichit: Really? Sixteen "no's"? Really?
“But Ichigo belongs in the human world and Rukia in SS...

…how did IR fans ever think this was going to happen?”

That is such bullshit that not even Kubo’s own characters believe it.  Setting aside the canonical example of Isshin for a moment, who had to make a difficult choice and save Masaki even before he was well and truly in love with her, has everyone forgotten about this?

Because I sure as hell haven’t. 

That was the moment that got me to start shipping those two dorks in the first place.  Yeah, there was that whole over-the-top “Gonna fly in at the last moment and stop a giant flame phoenix and then go all ‘Yo’ like all nonchalant and stuff; Rukia is gonna think I’m so damn cool” thing earlier on, which was lovely and all, but I adore this quieter moment so much for one simple reason:

That idiot thought Rukia was going to come back with him.

Just think about what has just happened: Rukia has been rescued, she has reconciled with both Renji and her brother, and she has been pardoned.  Ichigo witnessed all of this happening.  He knows Rukia is no longer in any danger, that she has friends and family once more, that she is loved and safe in Soul Society.  

Bear in mind that this all happens well before Ichigo (or the audience) knows that Isshin is also a Shinigami (though there were hints).  The only example of Souls living in the human world thus far were the shoten crew adults, and it’s made clear that this only happened in the first place because they’re exiles. I never thought Rukia was going to return to Karakura for a second, preparing myself for the emotional goodbye scene, and here comes this dork, being all: “Well hurry up, we’re leaving.”

He doesn’t even realize how ridiculous that sounds. Where is she going to stay?  What is she going to do? He hasn’t even considered any of this, he’s just taken it for granted that Rukia is coming back. LOOK:

Ichigo is stunned that she’s staying, and I’m willing to bet it’s just now dawning on him that, oh, of course she’s going to stay.  This is where she belongs. But even when he smiles at her, he doesn’t voice this, he doesn’t say “Right, yeah, this is your home; souls belong here.”  Instead, he says this:


Long story short: nope, Souls and humans aren’t ‘meant’ to live anywhere other than wherever they damn well please.  They can make it work either way, since… y'know, Urahara and all.  It wasn’t 'only natural’ that Ichigo would stay in the human world after the war, and given all the foreshadowing that precedes this choice, it ends up making little sense. 


花樣年華 PT.1 - TRACK 8: 이사 (MOVE)

As much as this place was small, we were bound together tightly
Thank you to the 3rd floor in Nonhyeon-dong
Goodbye to this place we’ve become fond of
Let’s move together
To a higher place

no but when my fiance and I first started dating he said something along the lines of “I hope you don’t ever get irritated with me” because he tends to be pretty high-energy

and I assured him that as long as he isn’t like a lying, misogynistic asshole, it’s basically impossible to piss me off

and I meant it as a joke, but his face got all serious and he goes “don’t worry, I’m not a total idiot, I’ve lost enough brain cells already”

apparently when his older siblings were little, his brother told their sister that she couldn’t play basketball because she was a girl

so she hit him in the head with a shovel

Fool’s Gold

Summary: Marinette knew that she wasn’t a good dancer. She could be a fearless warrior and a great hero but she couldn’t fix her two left feet. Despite that, she wanted to go to the masquerade ball in the royal castle to meet a certain someone. Instead, she meets a masked jester under the moonlight…

A/N: I have a translation project due in two days. Instead I decide it’s worth finishing off this fanfic I had in my drafts since last summer lol. At first, this was meant to be my Queen!Marinette AU but I couldn’t think of anything to make her queen without making it complicated so this was the result. Well, I kinda wanted to see Marinette stepping on Adrien’s toes too haha. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.5k+

Link to FFnet / AO3

Marinette was many things. A skilled seamstress. A wise advisor. A good friend. She could lead an army, devise flawless tactics and dominate the battlefield all while making it look like a ladies’ picnic.

She may be many things. But a dancer, she was not.

It was at times like these that she hated her accursed clumsiness. Very few people noticed after she became a hero but to the people who knew her before that they could only laugh and say ‘that’s our Marinette’. It was one thing that never changed.

Five different people asked her to dance that evening. All five left with bruised toes. Thankfully, they seemed like good noblemen who knew how to cover up so they bore with the pain with smiles on their faces. To escape from the misery and to avoid making a fool of herself for any longer, she slipped away to the castle gardens, taking solace in the moonlit scenery.

Keep reading

I was born in 1886 in Quincy New England. MY mother left me on the door steps of a married couple. it was very obvious that something was wrong with me . ten years later i grew up to become a young healthyboy i was sent to school where i was bullied constantly everyday. i suffered and cried but my Parents cared for me and loved me. at 20 i attended an Ivy league school & graduated. but even though i had accomplished so much i felt i had nothing to be proud of. 

i decided to travel the world in the 1920s. during the great depression.  i went to england. china. and also germany. i avoided the draft which is great because that meant i did not die. war sucks. in the 1950s i became an astronaught and was the first man to walk on the moon. i put the aremia flag on the moon. in 1969. later that day i went home to 69 my wife. but yet. i felt no pride.

how ever it was in the late 1980s that i felt i had done something. i was the president of the united states and i met with mikalev gorebachev. i told him to break down the floor. and he fucking did. i ended capitalism as we knew it. i was finally proud to have united germany single handedly. 

and today i come to you and tell you my story. my sexy sexy story. it is 1999. the end of the world. and i’m glad i could have saved it with a bang. Our whole universe was in a hot dense state,Then nearly fourteen billion years ago expansion started. Wait…The Earth began to cool,The autotrophs began to drool,Neanderthals developed tools,We built a wall (we built the pyramids),Math, science, history, unraveling the mystery,That all started with the big bang (bang)! a big bang. 


Drafting: The Theory of Shitty First Drafts

Writing books often exhort you to “write a shitty first draft,” but I always resisted this advice. After all,

  1. I was already writing shitty drafts, even when I tried to write good ones. Why go out of my way to make them shittier?
  2. A shitty first draft just kicks the can down the road, doesn’t it? Sooner or later, I’d have to write a good draft—why put it off?
  3. If I wrote without judging what I wrote, how would I make any creative choices at all?
  4. That first draft inevitably obscured my original vision, so I wanted it to be at least slightly good.
  5. Writing something shitty meant I was shitty.

So for years, I kept writing careful, cramped, painstaking first drafts—when I managed to write at all. At last, writing became so joyless, so draining, so agonizing for me that I got desperate: I either needed to quit writing altogether or give the shitty-first-draft thing a try.

Turns out everything I believed about drafting was wrong.

For the last six months, I’ve written all my first drafts in full-on don’t-give-a-fuck mode. Here’s what I’ve learned so far:

“Shitty first draft” is a misnomer

A rough draft isn’t just a shitty story, any more than a painter’s preparatory sketch is just a shitty painting. Like a sketch, a draft is its own kind of thing: not a lesser version of the finished story, but a guide for making the finished story.

Once I started thinking of my rough drafts as preparatory sketches, I stopped fretting over how “bad” they were. Is a sketch “bad”? And actually, a rough draft can be beautiful the same way a sketch is beautiful: it has its own messy energy.

Don’t try to do everything at once

People who make complex things need to solve one kind of problem before they can solve others. A painter might need to work out where the big shapes go before they can paint the details. A writer might need to decide what two people are saying to each other before they can describe the light in the room or what those people are doing with their hands.

I’d always embraced this principle up to a point. In the early stages, I’d speculate and daydream and make messy notes. But that freedom would end as soon as I started drafting. When you write a scene, I thought, you have to start with the first word and write the rest in order. Then it dawned on me: nobody would ever see this! I could write the dialogue first and the action later; or the action first and the dialogue later; or some dialogue and action first and then interior monologue later; or I could write the whole thing like I was explaining the plot to my friend over the phone. The draft was just one very long, very detailed note to myself. Not a story, but a preparatory sketch for a story. Why not do it in whatever weird order made sense to me?

Get all your thoughts onto the page

Here’s how I used to write: I’d sit there staring at the screen and I’d think of something—then judge it, reject it, and reach for something else, which I’d most likely reject as well—all without ever fully knowing what those things were. And once you start rejecting thoughts, it’s hard to stop. If you don’t write down the first one, or the second, or the third, eventually your thought-generating mechanism jams up. You become convinced you have no thoughts at all.

When I compare my old drafts with my new ones, the old ones look coherent enough. They’re presentable as stories. But they suck as drafts, because I can’t see myself thinking in them. I have no idea what I wanted that story to be. These drafts are opaque and airless, inscrutable even to me, because a good 90% of what I was thinking while I wrote them never made it onto the page.

These days, most of my thoughts go onto the page, in one form or another. I don’t waste time figuring out how to say something, I just ask, “what are you trying to say here?” and write that down. Because this isn’t a story, it’s a plan for a story, so I just need the words to be clear, not beautiful. The drafts I write now are full of placeholders and weird meta notes, but when I read them, I can see where my mind is going. I can see what I’m trying to do. Consequently, I no longer feel like my drafts obscure my original vision. In fact, their whole purpose is to describe that vision.

Drafts are memos to future-you

To draft effectively, you need a personal drafting style or “language” to communicate with your future self (who is, of course, the author of your second draft). This language needs to record your ideas quickly so it can keep up with the pace of your imagination, but it needs to do so in a form that will make sense to you later. That’s why everyone’s drafts look different: your drafting style has to fit the way your mind works.

I’m still working mine out. Honestly, it might take a while. But recently, I started writing in fragments. That’s just how my mind works: I get pieces of sentences before I understand how to fit them together. Wrestling with syntax was slowing me down, so now I just generate the pieces and save their logical relationships for later. Drafting effectively means learning these things about yourself. And to do that, you can’t get all judgmental. You can’t fret over how you should be writing, you just gotta get it done.

Messy drafts are easier to revise

I find that drafting quickly and messily keeps the story from prematurely “hardening” into a mute, opaque object I’m afraid to change. I no longer do that thing, for instance, where I endlessly polish the first few paragraphs of a draft without moving on. Because how do you polish a bunch of fragments taped together with dashes? A draft that looks patently “unfinished” stays malleable, makes me want to dig my hands in and move stuff around.

You already have ideas

Sitting down to write a story, I used to feel this awful responsibility to create something good. Now I treat drafting simply as documenting ideas I already have—not as creation at all, but as observation and description. I don’t wait around for good words or good ideas. I just skim off whatever’s floating on the surface and write it down. It’s that which allows other, potentially better ideas to surface.

As a younger writer, my misery and frustration perpetuated themselves: suppressing so many thoughts made my writing cramped and inhibited, which convinced me I had no ideas, which made me even more afraid to write lest I discover how empty inside I really was. That was my fear, I guess: if I looked squarely at my innocent, unvetted, unvarnished ideas, I’d see how bad they truly were, and then I’d have to—what, pack up and go home? Never write again? I don’t know. But when I stopped rejecting ideas and started dumping them onto the page, the worst didn’t happen. In fact, it was a huge relief.

Next post: the practice of shitty first drafts

Ask me a question or send me feedback!

I really like leaving comments on fanfic, and I think this is largely because I was taught how to. I took writing workshop classes as a hobby elective in undergrad, and for each of those classes our instructors would lay out for us how they preferred us to give feedback to each other. My favorite method was in response letters—every week we would read one or two people’s stories, and would then have to draft them a letter in response.

The first part of the letter was always complimentary. It wasn’t meant to be empty flattery; rather, we were supposed to note elements of the story that stuck out to us or worked particularly well. This could be a character whose personality or arc was particularly compelling, specific lines of dialogue or description that were really well done, or plot elements that made the story more engaging. One of my instructors described this part of the letter as an ode to envy—“everything you wish you’d written yourself should be there.”

The second part of the letter was more constructive. This meant, for the particularly bold, points that they thought could be improved, or aspects of the story they thought should be cut or reworked entirely. For people who wanted to be less definitive in their critiques, this was the section for questions. Here you would ask the author to explain themselves—why did this character make that decision? Is there a reason you ended with this scene? What did this line of dialogue mean?

Questions are particularly helpful as constructive criticism, because you’re not telling the author they’ve done something wrong. You’re just signaling to them that there’s something more or different that could be in the story, or something that’s already there that could be clarified to really hit home. Questions are endlessly helpful for writers, because they’re the perfect entry point into how their readers are actually experiencing the story. If the reader isn’t asking the questions the writer thought they were leading them to, or if those questions go unanswered by the end of the story, the writer knows they have more work to do.

Response letters are fun to write, and they have utility beyond my elective undergrad classes. Subconsciously, I have started mimicking that format in a shorter form while writing comments on fanfic.

There are adjustments, however. When I review a fanfic, I go heavy on the complimentary part. This is generally because I love fanfic and have good feedback for stories I’ve read through and enjoyed, but it’s also because I don’t think comments are always the place for critique, constructive or otherwise. Posting fanfic isn’t asking for feedback in an enclosed space, like a writing workshop. You’re posting something that is ostensibly a finished product, and waiting for a response from an audience. You’re waiting, like an actor in a play, for the applause at the end of the performance.

So questions, I think, can be appropriate for fanfic comments. But I don’t leave actual critique unless I’m specifically asked for it. And that’s generally a private or semi-private conversation—over email or through line edits, when another author comes to me and asks for that type of feedback.

This isn’t to say that fanfic readers have to always be positive about what they read. No one gets any better just hearing blanket applause all the time. But creating is a hard task, and creators often need to be in the right frame of mind to receive feedback. When they’re waiting for applause and hear criticism instead, it’s particularly demoralizing.

Ultimately, what I look for in comments is conversation. I want to know what my readers feel about my work, what they reacted to, and what they’re left wondering about. If specific things aren’t working, I want to hear about that, too, but probably not right after I’ve posted something I’ve worked hard on.

So conversation is what I try to offer the writers whose work I enjoy and consume, in the form of small response letters. Commenting is fun, that way, in the same way writing workshops are. They both ultimately come back to enjoying craft and story with other people.