#adhd got me bad

[rollinpinwheel]

Cheesy episode feelings nobody cares about in tags

[monstrousproductions]

So, I responded to a post over on my personal blog about people behaving "weird" in public and mentioned that being a bit smelly is not, in fact, a moral failure. And I just looked at the comments and feel deeply moved to reiterate:

Smelling bad in public is not a moral failure.

In fact, I'll go one step further:

There is no moral dimension to cleanliness.

There are all sorts of reasons a person might be dirty in public. They might not have access to the facilities or products they need to stay clean, they might be coming home from a dirty activity, they might have mental or physical conditions that make it hard for them to maintain their personal hygiene, they might be dependent on other people for their hygiene needs and those needs aren't being met.

Also, with smells in particular, "bad" is subjective. I'm personally extremely sensitive to perfumes and aftershaves, and while I can sit quite peacefully in a crowded bus that smells of BO, I often have to leave shops or get off buses because someone's perfume, which they no doubt think makes them smell lovely, is actually making me gag.

You don't have to go and huff great, gusting lungfuls of air around the next smelly person you bump into in the corner shop. By all means, breathe through your mouth, change your seat, open the window, wish the situation were different.

But you do need to let go of this idea that a smelly or dirty person is also a bad person. They're literally just a person - just another human animal living in their animal body, trying to get from one day to the next. Sometimes, people are dirty. Sometimes, they smell bad. If that's not something you can encounter without taking personal offence, you need to seriously reassess your own expectations of being in public.

[opikiquu]

my life a movie (PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR)

[s0fter-sin]

soap's whole deal being sniper and demolitions gets me going bc on the surface they sound so different but when you get into it, you realise it's bc soap's smart

sniping is all math; calculating distances and wind interference and bullet drop. something i think people overlook is he was listed as a sniper first so it can be implied that he's better at it than demolitions. he does more sniping in both campaigns than demolitions work; in capture or kill, ghost specifically calls on him to take down the aq snipers

and demolitions is math with a hit of chemistry; knowing what mixes with what, knowing how much to use, recognising environmental factors and adjusting accordingly. it's not just about the boom; so much work goes into contained/ planned explosions. especially when having enough power for a breacher charge and not bringing down the whole building is the difference between mission success and failure

the chemical bombs he makes in alone can't just be any old cleaners, they have to have the correct reaction to each other; he just knew off the top of his head what would mix with what to create what reaction. he would also potentially have to recognise them by sight/smell bc they would’ve been written in spanish

soap would also have to know architecture; recognising structural integrity and weak points so he knows exactly where to plant a charge to bring it down and how it'll come down

he has an incredible soldier's mind people just forget that bc he's sociable which itself is a skill

we know he tends to buck against orders he doesn't agree with like when he pushes back against ghost in capture or kill and shepherd when he tells them to release hassan

he gets closer to people and sees if he can trust them and that's when he follows them without question. really think about how he talks to alejandro and rudy; he asks about their home and alejandro's family and rudy's relationship with him. those aren't questions you ask a stranger after a few hours of knowing them. that's not even touching on his relationship with ghost

he also deliberately brings people of higher ranks down to his level; talking informally with ghost and giving him a shoulder punch, addressing alejandro (a colonel!!) by his first name and rudy by his nickname despite literally just meeting them. he personalises all of them and it’s in direct opposition to the reason most characters do that; it’s not due to insubordination or lack of respect, the more he respects and trusts someone, the more casual he is with them

he digs into people; he wants to know what makes them tick and that determines if he can one, trust them and two, follow their orders. once he decides that, he's the ultimate soldier; he bleeds loyalty which makes him vicious when that loyalty is taken for granted

he isn't naive or bubbly or insecure; he's an incredibly smart and aware soldier. he's aggressive and bloodthirsty and loyal and intuitive and i love him so much

[adhdandcomics]

perhaps the most important question i’ve ever asked:

does anyone have tips for people trying to stop being chronically late to everything in the world that aren’t weirdly judgmental and aggressive or flat out lies

[dustykneed]

leave him alone he's on his period...

[aroaceleovaldez]

HoO is so funny to me when you actually think about the ages of all the characters. Octavian is 18. Percy and Annabeth are 16, almost 17. Reyna is presumably 16. Frank just turned 16, Jason’s about to turn 16. Leo and Piper are like 15. Hazel’s like 14 and a half, and Nico is 13.

The Death Sibs are both the youngest and oldest on the Argo II. Octavian is a college freshman getting into petty drama with a bunch of high schoolers. He gets told to shut up at one point by a random 8th grader. Everyone is scared of the 8th grader. We Sent A 13 Year Old To Superhell and he came back weirder, Just Like Middle School. TLH was just three high school sophomores being sent to do a task and it going Exactly Like You’d Expect. Percy’s the only demigod on the ship who can legally drive (though Reyna gets her drivers license at some point before TOA). What Is Happening.

[smalltownrobin]

I'm actually so tired of these surface level readings and interpretations of Vickie.

I'm not about to argue Vickie has been developed well so far, okay? We barely saw her, and we still haven't been told much explicitly about her, and I hate that, I wish they payed more attention to her since she's their only canonically bi character (so far) and she's going to be partnered with one of the main cast, not to mention she's half of their only sapphic relationship. It SUCKS.

HOWEVER.

Calling her just a carbon copy and saying Robin "deserves" a better romantic plot is ridiculous??

How can she deserve a better romantic storyline when we haven't even seen all of it yet? We are at the beginning of their plot, we know there's more to come and we can be pretty certain they're going to progress into a proper relationship, or at least admit feelings for each other. I wish we saw more of them in s4, but we can mostly gather where they're going with the next season based on circumstance and how the characters have interacted with each other so far. That kind of Joyce/Bob dynamic of one of them not knowing anything about the upside down I think is such a sweet concept for Robin? It could bring out new sides of her if she's the one guiding Vickie through all of it, or even trying to keep her away from it. Obviously if you don't like that you don't have to, but saying she should have something "better" really sounds like you've not even thought about it.

Then saying she deserves better because Vickie is just a carbon copy of her is actually so silly to me, she deserves better than someone who understands the way her brain works and can relate to her? Robin's friends love her and care about her, but ultimately they don't know how to handle her sometimes. Vickie sharing one trait with her that will make both of them feel seen and understood is not lazy or boring, it's normal and even beneficial for partners to share traits like that.

The "carbon copy" thing really needs to stop because you sound five years old I'm sorry. They both ramble and they're both in band. Yet they dress totally differently, have different taste in movies (or are we all forgetting Robin likes classic black and white movies while Vickie watches raunchy movies about teenage sex), even speak and act differently despite sharing the rambling thing.

Most of Vickie's character is in the subtext (which I hope will be expanded on s5), but from what we've seen of her she does have some traits that don't seem to be in Robin's character (some things Robin does or the way she acts being a direct result of upside down monster hunting capers, whereas Vickie just does it on her own). To me they're pretty distinct from each other while sharing some essential traits they can connect on.

If that's just not what you like, that's okay! Ship what you want to ship, like who you want to like, but just put a bit more thought into it if you're going to tell people why you hate rovickie for the millionth time. It's okay to have a preference, but don't speak as if you're making a profound point about sapphic representation when you yourself aren't looking that much into it.

[writeouswriter]

You know what, this "actually writing" thing is really fun, someone should tell my adhd that 'cause it still doesn't believe me.

[ghosttotheparty]

also on ao3

(cw: tics, bullying)

Eddie started shivering in seventh grade.

Even when it was hot, even when he was sweating and desperately wanted a non-rattly fan or a better air conditioner. They weren't normal shivers. He wasn't cold. But his shoulders would jerk or shake, or he would tremble for a second, and he didn't know what else it could have been. Others didn't question it for a while, because it started in October. Everyone was shivering. But by March, it hadn't stopped, and he had to explain himself when people gave him questioning looks or asked if he was okay. (Back when people cared.)

'S just a shiver, I'm fine.

He wasn't fine. It got worse over time. He got used to it, to the weird feeling that took over his body for a few seconds, got used to telling people he was cold, joking that he must be low on vitamins or iron, joking that in the future, someone is walking over his grave. But other people didn't get used to it. They thought he was weird. That was fine with him. Wayne realised something was wrong before Eddie started the tenth grade, because he wasn't just shivering anymore. His whole body was jerking sharply, suddenly, his shoulders drawing up, fists clenching. Eddie didn't question it. Wayne did.

It wasn't normal. But nothing about Eddie was normal. Wayne took him to see a doctor. The doctor make him do things, walk in a line, hold his arms out and push the doctor's hands away as hard as he could, follow a flashlight with his eyes without moving his head. It was all weird. It kind of scared Eddie. The doctor kept writing things in a notebook, and Eddie couldn't tell if he was doing well or not. But Wayne was there, watching and listening intently.

The doctor said he had tics. It sounded funny to Eddie, but then it wasn't funny, because the doctor didn't give him anything for it. He just said there wasn't anything really wrong with him. His brain just worked a little differently. (Which Eddie was already used to hearing.) That his tics could get better or go away as he got older, or they could get worse.

They got worse.

By the end of that summer, his arms were moving, flying over his head suddenly, randomly, and his head was jerking back so sharply it hurt. Wayne was worried about him getting whiplash. Eddie was worried about going to school.

That year, he became the freak.

At first, he tried to explain it to people. The movements were involuntary, he couldn't control them. Wayne contacted all his teachers, who mostly got it, but still preferred to make him sit in the hallway so he didn't distract the class. But the other students thought he was possessed, faking it for attention, and everything in between. They'd throw things at him, and complain to the teachers that he was distracting even when he wasn't moving, just to get him out of the room. They would mimic him, make fun of him, and by September, he learned that the tics get worse when he's upset. He could hear them all snickering and giggling as he shoved his hands under his legs and tucked his chin to his chest or held his shirt over his face, as he held his limbs tense so they wouldn't move, so tense he was exhausted and sore all the time, and then he'd go home and cry because he couldn't control his own body.

He'd have to sit on the sofa so when his head threw itself back, it would hit the back of the sofa instead of the wall, and Wayne would just wait, watching with that fucking sadness in his eyes that made Eddie ache even more. When it finally stopped, sometimes after a few minutes, sometimes after an hour or two, he was so exhausted he'd fall asleep right there on the sofa. He couldn't do his homework. His grades dropped even more, but he managed to keep himself afloat. He did the best he could, doing his homework early in the morning before school or in detention. (Some of his teachers thought he was faking. Mr Peterson was in charge of detention, and he was nice. Considerate. Eddie counted him as one of his few blessings.)

His tics got worse.

In December of his junior year, he started making noises. Short screams, grunts, quiet vocalizations. It scared him. He didn't want to go back to school, but he did. The laughter around him got louder, and he was sent out to the hallways more. He started skipping classes. He knew he'd be forced to leave anyway. So he'd sit in the boys' room, on top of a lidded toiler, his feet up on the stall door, and he'd leave cigarette burns on the walls.

Not everyone was awful. Some kids were just curious about him, asked why he acted the way he did, and he did his best to calmly explain it all. I can't help it, actually. It's just my brain works different. That turned into Eddie's brain's fucked. It's broken. He's a fucking--

So he used it. Eddie the Freak. Attention-seeking, desperate for people to notice him. So he started making devil horns, yelling from tabletops, making himself The Freak so no one could use it against him.

No one, not even Wayne, saw him cry at night, because the attention he got was never the attention he wanted. Because he was tired. So fucking tired. His limbs were sore and his voice was rough, and his neck hurt, and he was sick of being laughed at. But that was all he got.

He kept counting his blessings. Mr Peterson, who never minded Eddie's noises or the way his fists would bang against the table loudly in the silent room, who scolded the other detention-goers when they tried to tease. The Hellfire guys, who got used to his tics fairly quickly, and knew when to pause whatever they were doing if Eddie couldn't hear them over a scream or was distracted by his own body. That nice girl, Chrissy Cunningham, who would slip notes from the classes he missed or skipped into his locker or backpack with sweet smiles. (If Eddie wasn't gay, he would have fallen in love with her.) The other few students that ignored him when his tics acted up, just glancing and moving on. Wayne, bless his soul, who would come to the school to confront Eddie's teachers and complain to the principal about Eddie being mistreated by the staff.

And, oddly enough, Steve Harrington.

Eddie never saw it coming. It was a particularly bad day. He was at his locker, trying to line his books up, but a tic threw his hands up, and some books fell from his locker to the floor. He watched helplessly as papers scattered across the floor, as most students stepped around them, ignoring them, as some jocks trampled over them, over Chrissy's neat handwriting, his fists clenched at his sides. When they passed, he kneeled, picking up the books, and when he looked up, Steve Harrington was kneeling too, gathering the crumpled papers and carefully straightening them out.

He gave them to Eddie with a smile, and Eddie thought he might be dying, in some weird, upside-down dimension where Steve Harrington smiles at Eddie Munson. Eddie took them hesitantly, said thank you, and then he hit him.

He was mortified, almost dropping the papers again, jumping back as his whole body flushed with heat, staring at Steve's shoulder where his hand had just landed heavily, and he burst with a Fuck, I'm so sorry, oh my god--

But Steve had just laughed. Amazingly, it was a kind laugh, with sparkling eyes, and soft cheeks, and he said It's okay.

And then he was gone. Down the hall, after his friends, and Eddie realised his hands were trembling.

Steve kept smiling at him. Even when his friends were making fun of Eddie's Satanic cult, and of the way he couldn't keep still, and of his sad, broken brain. Even when Eddie's brain made him flip Steve off across the cafeteria, Steve saw how Eddie pulled his hand down sharply, and Steve just... laughed. Eddie fell in love with his laugh. It was kind, and it made Eddie feel better, even when he wanted to cry.

Steve graduated the next year. But he didn't leave Eddie alone. Eddie couldn't stop thinking about him, and his kind laugh, and his pretty eyes, and then the sheep Eddie adopted told him all about how cool and brave Steve was, and Eddie fell harder without even seeing him.

The world went to shit. But Eddie got to see Steve again.

Steve was still kind, even though the world was ending, and even during serious discussions, plan-making, how-to-save-the-world conversations, Eddie's tics kept going. His body jerked and shivered, and his head threw back, and his fists hit his own chest and shoulders, and he had to sit down. And Eddie found out that there are more kind people than he thought. When his tics slowed, Nancy wordlessly got him an ice pack to hold to his chest, and when he flung it across the room, Robin caught it with a casual oops, and brought it back to him. No one questioned him, or stared, or laughed, even though he knew how annoying he was.

When he woke up in the hospital, he hurt so badly he couldn't move. He just cried. Steve sat by his bed and held onto his hand. He was crying too. When Eddie stopped crying, Steve carefully slid his rings, clean of blood, onto his fingers.

This one goes here, right?

Yeah.

On the second day, his brain didn't care that he hurt. As Steve was telling him about what was going on with the others (Max was staying with the Sinclairs, Dustin's leg was almost healed), Eddie's hand smacked him across the face sharply, the sting of his rings bringing tears to his eyes before he even processed what happened. Steve wordlessly crawled onto the bed, carefully pulled Eddie against himself, and set a pillow over Eddie's lap for when his fists started hitting his legs. He'd just murmured those words, the first words he'd said to Eddie years ago.

It's okay. It's okay.

And he waited until Eddie's body fell lax against him before he carefully found Eddie's hand, laced their fingers, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Eddie was released from the hospital a few weeks later. He stayed in the Wheelers' basement for a few days until Steve's parents left town, for good this time, and then he moved into the Harrington house.

He likes it there. Steve is still kind. Always. He lets Eddie lay his head in his lap when his body hurts or won't stop moving, and he drags his fingers through his hair or holds a joint to his lips for him, and he smiles. (Eddie would go through the end of the world all over again for that smile.) When Eddie's head hits the wall while they're in the waiting room of the hospital for a checkup, Steve just shifts to face him and holds a hand up to the back of his head so his hand hits the wall instead, saying quietly that Eddie isn't allowed to beat his record number of concussions. He drives Eddie to Wayne's even though Eddie doesn't tic when he drives except for a few facial or vocal ones.

When Eddie whistles one night, Steve just smiles at him and says Was that a tic or are you hitting on me? and Eddie freezes, his face burning. Which would you prefer, pretty boy?

Steve kisses him.

And then Steve starts holding his hand even when he isn't having tics, even when they're with the Party. Eddie moves into Steve's room. (They always slept better when they accidentally fell asleep on the sofa together anyway.) Steve holds him when his tics are bad, and Eddie holds him during his migraines, pressing kisses as softly as he can to his forehead and his temples. Steve takes his hand when it moves to hit Eddie's face or chest. Eddie stands steady and holds Steve's hand to himself when he gets dizzy. Steve keeps ready-made ice packs in the freezer to hold to Eddie's chest and legs when they bruise from his fists. Eddie keeps his handwriting as neat as possible when he writes notes in case Steve forgets anything. When they wake up at night, breathless and sweaty and crying, the other is there, arms open, lips waiting.

One night Eddie says very softly, You know, they used to say my brain was broken.

Steve just says, Mine too.

[nattousan]

when

whe you, when You were just trying to put i n some extra effort to try adn improve yoursel f and it got misinterpreted as malicious n u get yell ed at

[diazheartsbuckley]

Make me write ✍️

Let’s just ignore the fact that I’ve got some asks still waiting to be answered from the last time I did this (that I will definitely be getting to, dw guys!) 🤭 And that I’ve added other wip to the list 🤪

Rules: Send an ask with the emojis for the wips you want me to write! I'll share at least one sentence per wip:

⚡️ - Post-lightning strike, Eddie can’t hide his feelings any longer

👨🏽‍🦳 - Eddie discovers his first grey hair

🚨 - Cop!Eddie x Doctor!Buck

🏫 (high school emoji) - 15 years after their high school graduation, Buck and Eddie reunite

🎓 - University professor Eddie has never had a more annoying student than 22 year old Buck

⛪️ (church emoji) - Mob boss!Buck x priest!Eddie

📸 - Soldier!Eddie x war correspondent!Buck

🚫 - The insomnia fic, in which the well incident leaves Eddie unable to sleep

⬇️ - The smutty mechanic fic (what plot/just porn)

❤️‍🔥 - Bratty probie Buck meets newly appointed lieutenant Eddie

📄 - A misunderstanding sends Buck and Eddie’s marriage spiraling out of control

🖤 - Religious trauma, meeting before the 118

💀 - Major character death that leads to Buddie getting together and lots of overprotective Eddie

Tagged by @bidisasterevankinard @pirrusstuff @hippolotamus @dangerpronebuddie @cal-daisies-and-briars 🩵

Tagging!!

@tizniz @watchyourbuck @wildlife4life

@inell @spotsandsocks @giddyupbuck

@whosoldherout @steadfastsaturnsrings @diazsdimples

@exhuastedpigeon @honestlydarkprincess @jeeyuns

@jesuisici33 @ronordmann @underwaterninja13

@bucksbignaturals @bucks-daddy-issues @butraura

@kaseysgirl86-blog @extasiswings @actuallyitsellie

@bucksbirthmark @evanbegins @shitouttabuck

@thewolvesof1998 @daffi-990 @namjroon

@housewifebuck @rainbow-nerdss @theotherbuckley

@monsterrae1 @wikiangela @weewootruck @devirnis 🦋

[opikiquu]

having adhd is so funny like Why do i have a daily quota and if i dont draw my favorite characters at least once a day i start feeling like this

[capn-twitchery]

tagging some art reminded me. i think it's the animator in me but it's my favourite thing in the world to see artists draw their oc simplified down to their barest shapes & details

i love it when people draw their ocs like this. like yes!!! tell me what features define them, hand over their basic shapes, give me the tools to make them a more animation friendly design Immediately in my brain!!!

it's so fun to me. i'm half a step away from making a flondon oc cartoon in my brain i swear

[undefeatablesin]

Me rising from the dead after 3 months

[royalarchivist]

My favorite part of running Royal Archivist is definitely reading the tags people put in their reblogs. I really love seeing people react to goofy bits or wild lore, it's just fun seeing people crack jokes or roast their streamer or have the same reaction I did while watching stream.

This blog (and the VOD Timestamp Archive) take up a lot of time and energy I don't really have, but seeing everyone's tags and seeing the kind messages I get every once in a while thanking me for my work make me so :'))))) I know MCYT fandoms tend to have a bad rap, but everyone who interacts with Royal Archivist has genuinely so kind and funny (with one or two exceptions) and it's really nice to see. I love seeing the love people have for QSMP.