like if i had money

magickedteacup reblogged your post  “hey i hope this isn’t too intrusive of me, but have you ever researched ADHD? Specifically, ADHD in women. I have it,…” and said

 I don’t know if this is going to be helpful to comment, but how you described the way all of this is affecting you, especially in the tags, makes me think of something we’ve been talking about in my communication disorder class, but about how like, a lot of these conditions, ADHD, disabilities related to autism, all these various learning disabilities and so forth, aren’t generally “cured” they’re managed. And some people have access to better managing systems or treatments or so forth than others for whatever reason, but that doesn’t mean their conditions magically go away. But anyway I thought about how you commented more than once that you’d resigned yourself to never getting cured and just getting on with things to whatever degree you can, and I think it’s admirable that you really have always shown determination to do what you can with what you have. And honestly you always sound like you’re always getting piles of things done that are also important to you, between the writing and raising a million baby chicks and driving between farm and work and all kinds of things :)

Aw. It’s sweet of you to note that, really it is. Yes, I do do a lot of things in my life, I don’t sit around miserable or anything, and I’m overall just fine.

And I know it’s not a thing you can cure– a lot of it is literally just how I am, it’s not a disorder per se, I’m just like this, and if you changed that you’d be changing my personality.

But it’s also something that can be treated and managed. There are resources available, strategies and therapies and, yes, medications. I know that there are. If my mother had gotten me a diagnosis she might be right in that it would have labeled me and possibly held me back, maybe colleges wouldn’t have admitted me whether that’s legal or not, maybe I would have been hurt by thinking I couldn’t because of my diagnosis.

But it also would have gotten me access to resources, would have let me talk to people who know coping strategies instead of trying to piece them together myself out of tortuous research and contradictory quackery. And I could have tried medication, maybe, or at least evaluated whether it would help me, instead of being antidepressants that I think have permanently harmed me. 

I’m angry, furiously angry, because I’ll never know. Because so many people who sound a whole lot like me speak so fondly of the work they’ve been able to do on themselves with the right guidance, and all my attempts to get that kind of guidance have been condescendingly rebuffed. 

Maybe there isn’t really help! But I’ll never know, because I can’t get it anyway. 

i think one of the only real surprises about being a legal adult is that no one tells you about that particular kind of grossness you feel if you go for long enough without eating a plant of some kind

@americans who are young: 20% is the correct amount to tip your server or delivery person

i say this (and repeat it a lot. probably too much. sorry.) because i know a lot of younger people who are just starting to go places on their own do not know how much they should tip, and i know this because i have heard this dilemma come up sometimes w/ tables of teens i’ve waited on, cause they just don’t know. 

i’m here 4 u teens of america: it’s 20%, unless ur waiter is an asshole (like not bad day asshole but Premium Asshole Asshole) or creepy, in which case it is 15%, dropping appropriately to 10% as their Assholery or Creepiness climbs.

just multiply what your bill is by two and drop the second digit. for example: i spend 15 bux, 15x2 = 30, drop the second digit and the appropriate 20% tip is 3 bux.  or u spent 48 bux, thats like 96, that’s p close to 100 so just tip 10 bux to be Cool. 

if you stay at the table for a long time, also compensate accordingly – servers usually have a limited number of tables that they are given responsibility for (so these five or six tables in the corner are my section, anyone who sits there is my table to take care of) and if you camp out for a long time that can cut into yr servers ability to Make doll4rs and/or Leave Work.

if you know that you’re gonna be catching up w/ an old friend for two hours, you can, honestly, just go “hey i’m planning on chatting w/ my friend for a while, but I know we’re taking up this table, and I’m going to tip extra for your time” and that’ll work out for everyone in the long run. people like to know you’re trying to be respectful of their time + effort. everyone is nice, everyone has a nice good time. 

Internal vs External Magic Users

So, I’ve come to find knowing how magic works for each individual can help immensely when it comes to studying and perfecting each person’s form of witchcraft. Everyone tends to be different, and finding out where you stand and how you personally use, store, and/or release energy can help when it comes to visualization. This can, in turn, greatly impact the success rate of each spell, working, or ritual a witch does. Obviously, it’s not an end-all, be-all. However, I’ve found knowing the information can help even just a tiny bit (or a lot, depending on the person.)

Internal vs External

The way energy moves throughout the body is a great way to start understanding how you can use and manipulate your own in your everyday life as well as in your practice. There are hundreds of different types of paths for energy to go, but for the most part, the two largest categories are: internal and external.

Internal

Internal energy pathways are self-explanatory. Typically, these people were born during the day and possess power from within their own bodies. They have a connection with the Sun. Internal is quite common, and these individuals may have to ground and cleanse themselves more than their counterparts. They can be gifted at enchantments, astral work, communing with deity or spirits, etc. Their cores emanate energy, which can be activated with a touch. Touch with the hands, feet, chest, and the top of the head would be ideal as these are their center points of energy. Internal magic users tend to rely on their instincts and intuition and often have extra-sensory abilities. My recommendation: focusing on visualization and using touch-based rituals/spells (sigils, baths, etc.)

Oil to help loosen up the internal energy flow:

  • Olive oil base
  • Sea Salt
  • Amethyst (chips or tumbled)
  • Rosemary (herb or oil form)
  • Yerba Santa, Sage, or Palo Santo

Burn either on a charcoal disk or rub on a candle to breathe it in.

External

External magic users are the lucky ones! Typically born at night, these are those lucky people who could wish for something and have it happen. They have an ability to influence the world from afar, like the Moon. They can trigger changes around them without thinking about it too much. Simply saying things like “I really wish I had some extra money,” might aid them in finding a spare $20 on the street. These are typically the people who can reblog emoji spells, and/or “money cat”-type posts and have a high success rate. Their bodies radiate energy and manipulating it may come naturally to them, to the point where they have no idea they’re doing it. They rely on their intellect and are disciplined, determined, and intelligent. They excel at area of effect rituals, such as wards. Energy manipulation, healing magic, and forms of divination may also be easier for them to master. My recommendation: learning how to manipulate their energy more and using repetitive mindset spells (ie, vision boards. AKA, wishing for something super hard.)

Oil to help loosen up the external energy flow:

  • Coconut oil
  • Lavender (herb or oil)
  • Sea Salt
  • Mint (herb or oil)
  • Selenite (Charge oil with it or add chips. Disclaimer: selenite dissolves in water, so either charge the oil or use pieces you don’t care for.)

Rub on skin, do NOT consume if you add selenite chips as it is unfit for internal consumption. 

I often find myself wondering if Jake is okay :/
(ALSO, @richardgoranski Because i legitimately just saw you would love to be tagged in BMC art in general, so here ya go buddy) 

I hate that trope of characters who are like “oh being poor doesn’t scare me” like okay I’ve been financially unstable and lived in an economically depressed area most of my life and it scares the daylights out of me bc I know some of the consequences

like…this isn’t about how hard I’ve had it bc there’s loads of people who had it much harder, it’s about the fact that I /hate/ when people who have never really experienced financial hardships bad enough to compromise their ability to afford basic necessities romanticise poverty as somehow ~simple and ~wholesome in contrast to the ostensibly exhaustingly complex lifestyles of the rich

it’s not simple it’s complicated and difficult and can severely impact your mental and physical health and making it seem all rosy-tinted is just another way for rich people to make themselves feel better about wealth inequality

url edit for @fortesques  gave Harry free sundaes every half-hour

I FUCKING MET CHRISTINE AND ELIJAH AND I GAVE CHRISTINE A BADAZZLED NYC HAT AND ELIJAH A CONDUM WITH DONALD TRUMP ON IT THAT SAYS “I’M HUUUGGEEEE” AND ELIJAH THOUGHT IT WAS SO FUNNY HE PUT IT ON HIS STORY AND I TALKED TO THEM FOR A LITTLE WHILE IM SO FUCKING HAPPY THEY’RE THE GREATEST PEOPLE AND ELIJAH WAS SO KIND I COULD TELL CHRISTINE WASNT REALLY HERSELF AND I THINK SHE WAS JUST TIRED AND SHE HATES NYC SO ITS FINE IM JUST BEYOND THRILLED THAT I GOT TO MEET THEM AND ELIJAH ACTUALLY WANTED TO TALK TO ME WE’RE NOW BEST FRIENDS THEY ARE SUCH BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEINGS WOW

i bet when tfa was being promoted adam driver was like, hella relieved, bc his character was everywhere but it wasn’t like… him.. it was just the mask. and then someone had to go and be like you know what would be great? if kylo ren ditched his mask. also we can show off his sweet fuckin scar. which is great for like, ME, but now adam driver can’t go buy breakfast cereal or like.. sweatpants at jc penney without seeing his actual face on posters and promo banners and pillows and children’s t-shirts and i know, deep in my soul, that he hates it

College au sentence starters

“I found your jeans in my dorm again?”

“I think this is it,my cause of death is going to be finals…”

“What are you majoring in?”

“Listen,I just got back from my four months of finding myself and have no idea what’s going on.”

“I could just take a year off… And then another and another…”

“Do you have change for the vending machine?”

“Jokes on you,I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“Who even makes flash cards? What do they even do?”

“Hahaha,looks like I’m not eating tonight… Just spent what little money I had on notebooks.”

“Dude,it’s a frat party. Who doesn’t go to frat parties?”

“People who need to study tend not to party.”

“I found a kid sleeping under a table in the library.”

“Guess who fell asleep on the kitchen counter again.”

“So…you’re my room mate?”

“It looks like you packed your whole house…”

“I bet your parents go through some really intense empty nest syndrome,huh?”

“Dude,I don’t even know what I’m studying for anymore.”

“Who fucking moved my textbooks!”

“I saw someone watching hardcore porn during psychology today…”

“Listen,I wasn’t even awake in class,I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“One more year and I’m done.”

“When you said you had notes I thought you meant what was taught today…. Not a very descriptive critic of the professor’s eyebrows.”

(IMPORTANT) Binding Safety

Okay friends. So there are these “les lesbian binders” on amazon (I would add pics but idk how to do that on mobile so bear with me). THESE BINDERS ARE SHIT AND WILL FUCK YOU UP.

So early in my “am I trans” journey, I started with these binders. I was working a shitty job (y'all don’t even know like it’s some movie-worthy shit) and I had like no money. But these binders were like $5-$15 EACH. And I was like “fuck yeah gonna get me a chest I love at an affordable price” well, I did. But it came at a greater cost. Those binders don’t stretch. They are the equivalent of wearing ace bandages. AND I WORE THEM EVERY SINGLE DAY FOR SIX MONTHS. at one point I thought “you know what’s a fucking fantastic idea? IF I WORE TWO BINDERS ON TOP OF EACH OTHER” given they were both the shitty “les lesbian binders”. And, of course, I had hot flashes and felt like I was going to puke and all that good stuff. But I mean it was worth it right? No. It was not worth it. It royally fucked me up. I had bruises all over my chest and ribs, and when I say bruises I mean my entire chest was covered with purple and blue and occasionally black splotches. I go running (without the binder of course) and I can barely breathe, my lungs/ribs can’t expand as much as they used to. Now they can only expand as much as the binder constricted them to. I can only breathe in short/shallow breathes to where I get so light headed constantly. AND THATS WITHOUT THE BINDER. I used to be able to hold my breath for 2.5 minutes and run at least 2 miles without stopping (yeah I was healthier but I also had the ability to expand my lungs so much).

You’re probably thinking “but it could be worse” yeah it could be I could’ve broken a rib. Thank god I didn’t. Ive worn sports tape (Also a bad idea don’t do that) and those binders feel exactly like that.

So please, I beg of you, don’t buy those shitty binders and don’t use ace bandages and don’t use sports tape. Please save your future self. I know it’s hard, trust me I go through it everyday, but YOUR SAFETY COMES FIRST. GC2B and Underworks are great companies created by transguys that make great quality binders that are super comfy and safe. If you need the money just ask the transguy/trans masculine community like me and some other people will go out of our way to give you money for a safe binder. Please.

A thank you to my fellow followers and friends, here and on the Dancetale blog! (We’ve receive over 800 followers!! Thank you!! Seriously. Thank you all.)

Ever since that anon asked me what dances the Underswap crew would dance, I had this idea where there would be this cool dance-off between Pap and Napstabot. I just had to do it!! This was supposed to be a drawing only, but it escalated huhuhu ;v; (youtube)

Underswap: @popcornpr1nce
Dancetale: me!

I can’t believe in the year of our lord, 2017, there are people that are annoyed that abraham woodhull was trying to get his money back after fighting for the cause and nearly dying like every episode.

I see the “Sport and Robbie adopt and raise Stephanie, Ziggy, Pixel, Stingy, Trixie, &sometimes Rottenella”

and the “Ithro and Glanni raise Sport and/or Robbie (together/separately)” domestic set ups

BUT where’s my fic of Sport and/or Robbie telling Ithro and/or Glanni they’ve practically adopted a bunch of kids and not expecting them to be like “neat, we got one of those too!” And introducing them to this preteen/teen named jives who loves to garden with Ithro and drives Glanni insane with his fashion sense and dirt while also being quite fond of him for some reason.

(And maybe they’re in the process of picking up another stray named Penny who is a cunningly charming girl that has Glanni more wrapped around her finger than not and who Ithro has proudly watched Glanni teach to actively pursue her wants rather than just beg and whine, even if that means Ithro now has to fondly keep their get rich schemes from getting out of hand)

Also acceptable would be if It’s Glanni and/or Ithro who decides to tell Robbie and/or Sport about the kid(s) they’ve found themselves parenting and Robbie and/or Sport are like “You should try raising this many” *gestures to the group of kids actively getting into mischief* and “Oh yeah, that reminds me, did I ever remember to tell you that I have my own kids now? No? Oops, well, to start with there’s 5 of them…”

Also imagine Sportarobbie and Glannithro comparing parenting stories, exchanging advice, and silently competing at who can be the “better dad.”

Robbie and Glanni are totally the dads who find ways to place bets on their kids against each other. Sport and Ithro are the type to find out, act disappointed and reprimand them while secretly also putting bets on their partners and on their kids.

MOSTLY I just want Jives (&penny) included and raised by the glannithro (the forgotten play children for the play versions of sportarobbie)

Fox Mulder’s Guide to Falling (and Staying) in Love with Your Partner

For author’s note and story description, see the first chapter!

In case you need to catch up:
(1) (2)

(3)

It’s the little things, he’s decided, that he likes most about her.

It’s the way the she greeted him this morning when he picked her up for their drive to check out a case in Connecticut, coffee in hand. She knows exactly how he takes it, how much room to leave and, subsequently, how much milk to add. The temperature he prefers. And as she slid into the car, handing over a travel mug, one that resides in her apartment specifically for him, a gratifying smile accompanied her.

Her smile is contagious, he has no doubt about it. The way her plump pink lips curl slightly at the corners. And when, on the rare occasions, he catches a glimpse of her teeth, stark white in contrast to the color they hide behind, he loses cognitive function. He melts. She doesn’t smile enough, which, in retrospect, is better for his sanity. But lately, she has been smiling more. He hopes, selfishly, that she smiles for no reason other than she simply likes this journey that they’re on, whatever it may be. That they simply spend time together.

It’s the face she makes when she’s reading a map, absorbed. Her posture is perfectly square in the passenger seat. So much concentration etched in the subtle wrinkles that fall above her brow. The tip of her tongue grazing the expanse of her lips. Her delicate fingers, fingers that pull triggers and make Y-incisions and fold over each other in prayer and occasionally tangle with his, tracing the lines of the highways as she follows the pattern of their route.

It’s the way she fidgets with the cross around her neck. Especially when she’s hunched over files that are spread on a motel bed. It’s as if she uses her cross to help her focus, to recenter her thoughts. She touches her cross, and he thinks she comes back to reality. And he likes that her faith wavers at times; it makes her more human.

It’s the rhythm they fall into as soon as they take their places in the car. She had complained recently about not getting to drive more often, and he, regrettably, made a comment at the expense of her height. But if he’s being honest, he likes when he drives and she rides next to him. There’s something about their ability to navigate like this. It’s familiar, like they’ve been doing it their whole lives.

It’s the way she says his name. “Mulder.” He’s heard it thousands of times, but never quite like how she says it. It’s why she’s the only one who calls him “Mulder” on a regular basis. He had told her that everyone called him Mulder, but truthfully, he was fine with “Fox.” Until he met her. Until she said “Agent Mulder” and eventually just “Mulder” enough that his name coming from her lips was like a breath of fresh air. A whisper of a prayer into the wind. It’s significance meant only for him. She says his name, and he feels whole.

And her mind. Oh, her mind deserves its own category of likeness. The way she spits paragraphs of medical jargon at him. The way she challenges and attempts to invalidate his theories with her sophisticated vocabulary. Sometimes he thinks he can actually see the logic of her brain, the wheels turning, the path it takes to substantiate her conclusions. Her mind is intoxicating. And he wants to know every inch of it.

He wonders what keeps her here, in this car right beside him. If it’s the same thing that’s keeping him here. For him, it’s more that just a quest for a missing sister, the proof of an alien civilization. It is something that he never expected. Since her, it is now more than the need for unrelenting justice and virtue, authentication of a government conspiracy. No, most importantly, their journey has become about finding themselves through finding each other.

He also wonders if his fondness of her is obvious. He knows that he doesn’t tell her enough, if at all, just how much he appreciates having her in his life. How their partnership, friendship, whatever it is, has given him new meaning. He thinks of the lives they’ve lost, the amount of times they’ve almost lost each other.

Just recently, he turned a gun so quickly on himself, yet held back with everything he had to protect her. He saw how shaken she was, by the ease of which he didn’t hesitate pulling the trigger on himself, the precision of which he had placed the gun at his temple, ensuring that had there been a bullet in that chamber, there would be no chance for survival. The single tear that escaped her lid, her anguished plea for him to fight the mind control. It was if something inside him clicked. The potential that he could mean as much to her as she does to him. And later, he knew by the desperate grasp of her hand in his at the bedside of their latest demon that he had miscalculated how much the notion of his death could affect her.

He’s done everything in his power to make sure she doesn’t know the depths of his feelings for her. He wonders if she can see right through him anyway.

He takes a mental picture of her as they cross over into New York, more than halfway through their drive, surrounded by the waters below the George Washington Bridge. He could see her in New York, the hustle and bustle of big-city life, constantly encompassed by civilization. A life she would thrive in, and one where he would suffocate. But he doesn’t really want her to be here, if it means he won’t be able to see her every day.

He loves her, of that he knows for certain. But he will never voice it. He vows to never let that love become lust, to never be in love with her. Because having only just a part of her is better than having none of her.

So he lets the tires of the car continue to spin, and he dreads the moment they have to stop.