#just him freaking out over the ONE capitalization and then proceeding to make the situation worse is so neurodivergent

[golden--doodler]

@br1ghtestlight mentioning Cheaty Cheaty Bang Bang made me remember this moment, which is probably my favorite moment in the episode. Bob’s panic is just too hilarious and relatable 🤣

I was actually laughing while screen-recording this because it’s just too good. I’ll never get over the “My butt” ☠️

With this scene as evidence, you cannot look me in the eye and tell me that Bob isn’t Autistic. He’s so bad at communication, bless him 😭

I’ll always be grateful to Light for bringing this theory/headcanon to my attention because it’s so glorious and real.

[neoct18]

discoloration i

pairing ➳ leo x reader

⋅ this is part one of three of the discoloration small series. the stories are interlocked.

⋅ following pairings ➳ ken x reader, hongbin x reader

Your life could be described as a series of unfortunate events.

Definitely not with capital letters, and with no association to the books and characters, or, well, those Events, but situations have been quite unfortunate for you.

You wanted to blame it all on your bad luck, but the thing was—this was all you. Classic you, even.

Of course you would meet an eerily handsome older guy at a bar on your one night off; of course you’d be intrigued by him, and like all deers that stood staring at blinding headlights, you’d be left in ruins. Caught in the beauty of shiny things like easy prey.

He’d introduced himself as Leo, originally. He was tall and lean; fit too, it was obvious underneath his white shirt. But he was also the silent type, and when he spoke his voice was velvety; soft like melting caramel, with a slight huskiness.

He was sporting a fresh cut on his right cheekbone, and his knuckles were all scratched up and raw-looking. You knew you probably shouldn’t ask him about it, but you could never help yourself.

Your curiosity always got the best of you. And that was always your downfall.

“Do you always get into fights?”

He’d smiled faintly, downing his drink and signaling for another one to the bartender.

“Only if I’m getting paid,” he replied. “But this,” and he tapped his shoulders, “I lost my temper.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You can’t picture this guy losing his temper. It must have been a rare case.

“I’m sorry for the guy,” you admitted.

He laughed, almost embarrassed, and looked at you with those slitted, dark eyes. Your eyes travelled to his lips. He had rosy, pouty lips. For a moment you thought about how it’d feel to kiss him, this interesting stranger that didn’t seem like a threat at all to you. You thought about running your fingers through his soft, surely dyed looking hair, and your core felt all tingly.

Before you could wander off further, he spoke again.

“Ken can take a punch. It’s my fault, I got riled up.”

At that, he downed the second round of his choice of drink, looking ahead as if replaying a memory through his head.

You, on the other hand, hadn’t the slightest clue who this Ken guy was, or why Leo would get mad at him, but it really didn’t matter to you back then.

Men are men. If they find they need to solve something through violence, there’s not a thing that will stop them.

You probably looked like you were about to talk again, because he turned to you, and simply said, “No more questions,” his cold expression shutting you up immediately.

For a while, the two of you just sipped on your drinks silently, but then, just when you were about to pay to leave, disappointed you ticked off your potential hook up for the night, the bartender informed you that the tab had been taken care of.

Before you could wonder who could’ve paid for you, you glanced at Leo’s knowing face.

“Why’d you pay for me?”

He tilted his head, almost like a cat, like he didn’t understand the question.

“I can’t pay for a beautiful girl’s drinks?”

You blushed at that, because even sitted, he still towered over you, exuding a sort of confidence you’d never come close before.

“I didn’t mean—I... thank you. I just meant... why? You obviously got annoyed earlier.”

Stumbling over your words only made you hotter from embarrassment. Not your proudest moment.

The song in the background changed to something darker, jazzy. You thought it fit him.

That tingly feeling appeared again, this time lower. You desperately tried to keep your composure, while he looked perfect, if not a tad bit sleepy from the alcohol.

“You didn’t annoy me, sweetheart. I’m just not good at making small talk,” he paused, and you almost thought you saw a flash of color on his cheeks. “I apologize, I didn’t realize you got so quiet because of me. I... tend to be a bit curt sometimes.”

You were relieved to hear that. You shouldn’t have been, because then things wouldn’t have escalated to what it has now become.

But back then, that moment, you mastered all your drunken courage and kissed him on the cheek as goodbye.

Leo grabbed your wrist and turned his face so your lips could touch. When that happened, your stomach backflipped. And when he moved his lips on yours, you knew you wanted him.

So Leo led you both out of that bar and into his car, driving fast towards what you’d later know to be his second house. The one he used for predicaments like these.

In his actual house, lived two more people. Men that would fuck up your life. Majorly.

But that Saturday, it was Leo. And Leo was the smoothest man you’d ever met.

He brought you inside the big living room, and throwing both your coats on the couch you noticed, he walked you backwards towards a wall, next to a small staircase.

He was so much taller than you’d imagined, with long legs and big hands that you wanted everywhere on you.

“I’m not a one time thing, you know,” he huskily said next to your ear, before his lips travelled along your jaw, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind.

“Oh,” you moaned, even though it was intended as a question.

“I’m going to turn you around now, and bind your wrists,” he saw that you wanted to speak, but he caught you off. “Do you want this to be a one time thing? If so, I’m taking you to the bed.”

A one time thing? God, no. Not with you that turned on, not when you were about to embark on a whole new adventure.

You shook your head, because you felt like you shouldn’t talk.

You saw him nod out of the corner of your eye, before he took off his silk scarf and wrapped it with experience around your wrists, tight but not to the point where it hurt.

“Bend for me, please.” “More,” you felt the restraint of your skirt when he told you to stop.

Somehow knowing your skirt was bothering you, he lifted it up until your ass was exposed, along with your lacy black panties.

It had then dawned on you that he hadn’t asked for your name yet. Was that part of his game? Should that be worrying to you?

“Tell me,” his velvety voice was so inviting, you’d tell him anything.

You were probably a little drunk, or else this whole scenario wouldn’t have unraveled so fast. But you weren’t drunk enough that you couldn’t distinguish if you wanted this or not, and once again, Leo seemed to know that.

“You haven’t asked for my name,” you voiced your worry, and then bit your lip.

You felt his hand then, on your lower back, hovering, barely touching. You wanted your shirt off. You wanted to feel his warm hands on your skin.

“I know your name, (Y/N). I own that bar.”

Of course he did. You should be lowering your skirt and running out of there, but you didn’t. Leo had handled you respectfully. You felt that even though you hadn’t voiced much, he already knew what you wanted, from that first drink till your bending over for him.

It felt like he knew your needs, which turned you on like nothing else.

“Does that freak you out?” He continued to use a calm, soothing tone, that lulled you right into his arms.

One of his hands was now holding your wrists, while the other rubbed circles over the part of your ass that remained clothed.

You clenched around nothing, feeling yourself getting wet.

“No,” you breathed.

“After we’re done with this, I’m going to learn more than just your name. I don’t want you to think I’m using you, (Y/N), is that clear to you?”

You almost cried out. His voice was too much, his words were too much, and his touch was so teasing, you could come just by his caress.

“I’ve liked you for a while, watched you sitting on the bar stool every Saturday, sometimes alone, sometimes with friends. But I’m a busy man, I couldn’t find the time to do this. Does this freak you out?”

Stalking? A bit. But he gave that word a new meaning, something romantic. Maybe you were going crazy from the need of wanting to be filled, but all this was a compliment to you.

To have such a mans attention, unbeknownst to you, to have him look at you, and wonder about you...

It would prove to be catastrophic. But for now, it felt like all had aligned for this moment.

“Leo...” you moaned. His hand had cupped the place you needed him most.

“I was right about you. You’re right for me,” he said in a quiet voice.

And then, in one swift motion your panties had been pushed aside, and his fingers were working inside you. You wanted to turn around and touch him, but you remained right where you were, afraid you’d ruin it.

His other hand had come in the front, cupping your breasts, before undoing the buttons of your black shirt. Then his fingers tugged down your bra, and you were completely exposed to him, despite being fully clothed still.

When he rammed into you, you felt like you’d fall face down, your knees buckling. Your hard breathing met his fast pace, his hands grabbing the silk of his scarf around your wrists so as to steady you. Your head had fallen against the wall, but this position wouldn’t be for long.

After a while, he slammed you against the wall, taking you rough but slow, your moans turning into cries of ecstasy as you were reaching your high.

It was incredible, sex with him. It was intense, and full filling, and everything your sex life was missing.

When you finally came, spent, your heart threatening to jump out your chest, he pulled out.

That made you freeze. You tried to look at him, but got light headed. He steadied you once again, and kissed your neck, releasing your wrists from the silk, and straightening your skirt.

You turned around to look at him tucking in his shirt, and besides the obvious flash of red on his face, he looked immaculate. Like he didn’t just fuck someone into oblivion.

“You didn’t come.”

His dark eyes bore into yours, as he kissed your lips hungrily and proceeded to button your shirt back up.

“I wanted this to be about you.”

You scrunched your eyebrows together. “What? Why? Let me—“ You reached for his zipper, ready to get on your knees.

He held you up with little force.

“I don’t like women on their knees,” he said in almost a reprimanding voice, and you felt bad.

“But—“

He shut you up by kissing you. Your hand reached between you and found his bulge. You rubbed it over his jeans without a second thought. He pulled away from your mouth, groaning, and took your hand away.

“Why aren’t you letting me? Am I doing something wrong?” You couldn’t help but start losing confidence.

Everything had been perfect for you, but it seemed like he didn’t get much out of what you would describe the best fuck of your life.

He shushed all of that away. “I’d come again and again for you. I’m seconds away from exploding right now. If I had a problem with you, you wouldn’t be here right now. You’re perfect.” Patting your hair down, he guided your hand over his bulge again.

“You feel it, yes?” You nodded, feeling your panties get wet again.

His power over you was overwhelming.

“It’s all for you. But I can control myself, and I’m going to. This was about you, about getting to know your body.”

Fuck. Fuck him and his perfect words.

You should’ve probably figured out a man like that would turn out to be dangerous for you.

[ask-svt-hearteu]

bestfriend! Joshua

Anon requested: “could you do a joshua best friend au?”

Genre: friendship 

Word Count: 1504

you’ve known Joshua Hong for most of your life

went to the same school all the way into highschool

elementary, not much happened

probably just say hi and stuff like, “Can i use that glue stick when you're done” 

middle school came along and the two of you were officially in the 7th grade

you weren’t really the type of person to have a lot of close friends, maybe only a little over a handful

but you did have a lot of friends, your classmates and friends of friends 

because you never really had a problem having a fun and nice conversation with someone

Joshua was one of those friends, just the nice boy in your math and history class who actually knew all the states and their capital 

until your history teacher decided your class wasn’t allowed to choose their own partners anymore and chose them herself

“Y/n and Joshua, you guys have ‘Causes of The Civil War’ ” 

so as you gave up your seat for someone else, you scooted into the now empty desk next to Joshua

“Hey Joshuaa, so what do you want to do first”

“Hmm we can look at the text book first” 

the whole project had some class time available to work on it but was expected to be worked on at home

“Do you want to do a powerpoint then?” he asks 

“Yeah! What’s your number so I can send you the links and stuff” 

so you guys finished your project a day early and got an A of course

and the conversations should've died there or something 

except when you had to sit next to each other for presentations he leaned over and looked at the paper on your desk 

“You like Naruto?” 

you look down at you rough doodle of Naruto’s face and grinned

“Yeah do you??” 

so that’s how the two of you became close because later that night, you texted him ranting about the latest episode  

and the conversation went on to other animes

then somehow led to whether you finished your essay

then to which flavor of ice cream was best

the two of you, probably the most unlikely friends ever

the nice, quiet boy who hung out with his group of guy friends 

and the social butterfly who pretty much talked to everyone,

and now him

highschool came around and you watched as he taught himself guitar

and joined choir 

“What the freak Josh why am I just finding out you have such a nice voice, it’s not fair” 

“Oh,” he laughs as you poke his shoulder over and over again at lunch, “Sorry my bad”

even though you and Joshua had many different classes and were involved in different groups, the two of you never failed to hang out

one of the these times being towards the end of highschool, where you went to this annual Korean festival together

“Look I wanna go there! There’s fried fishcake” you saying tilting your head towards the stand and proceeding to tug on his arm

“Hold on please!” 

the both of you pause and turn to around to face a foreign voice

your eyes meet a Korean man, who’s facing Joshua

“Do you know what kpop is?” 

he continues to explain how he’s a manager for Pledis Entertainment and scouting for trainees, then asked Joshua if he wanted to join

“Ah can I please think about it?” he says, while you just look at them back and forth

the guy hands him is contact information and gives him a couple days to decide

“JOSH!” you squeal, even though you didn’t really understand the situation much, but you understood something, “You could go be a singer!”

“I know I know, but can I do it? Live in another country? How do I even know..” he trails off nervously

you grab his shoulders and look him in the eye,

“Joshua Hong. I know you kay, you finna spend the rest of your life regretting it, and I know how much you want this okay. What do I always say?” you stare at him pointedly

“If life gives you ramen you take it and eat every last bit,” he says, a smiling forming on his face

“Right!” you say laughing

so for the next two or so years, you guys always stayed in touch

without fail, you guys would at least text every other day

and when he debuted, he sent you tickets to his showcase with the backstage tickets 

so what other thing is there to do besides go

and be extra af 

so of course you went disguised as a fan 

with a baseball hat with seventeen written across 

and a giant neon poster with 'JOSHUA HONG' written across 

and a bright orange t-shirt with the derpiest Joshua face you could find from Seventeen TV 

and let's not forget the gift you prepared him 

you almost lose your voice from all the screaming you did but whatever it's worth it 

and when it's over, you go backstage

 and basically tackle Joshua, proudly 

"JOSH YOU MOTHER FREAKING DEBUTED" you scream loudly 

"Y/N WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?" he exclaims holding his laugh in poorly 

Svt crowds around you dying of laughter from your outfit 

the two of you catch up on everything and you end up pretty much being the last friend or family backstage 

with the other members screaming excitedly around you guys, you talk to them a bit 

"Guess WHAT I gotchu a gift" you say wiggling your eyebrows at Joshua 

he laughs, still on a happy high, "What what, I have expectations" 

"Oh TRUST me, this will be the best gift you've ever gotten" 

you hand him a gift bag 

as he pulls the tissue paper out, looking inside the bag, and immediately bursts out laughing

pulling the item out, the others are laughing and seal clapping 

"thanks for the matching shirt”

"Anytime, now there's more!!" you say winking 

he grabs the last thing from the bag and laughs, extremely amused

dropping the bag in surprise he holds the item to his face 

a water bottle with 'DRINK WATER NOT ALCOHOL' printed on in big, bold, black letters 

"You're gonna be dancing a lot so you need to stay hydrated!" you grin, winking excessively 

"Ah you're the best, seriously" he grins and pulls you into a hug 

fast forward 2 years or so later

your have your life together as best as you can for a college student, and find the time to attend his concert

like last time, nothing will ever compare to seeing Joshua and his group live

as you walk backstage, the more mature ish side of you doesn’t play jokes and engulfs him a tight hug

“You’ve made it so far” you say looking at him with tears in your eyes, ruffling his hair

“Qhat is this you’ve turned soft?” he jokes ruffling your hair also

“College does that to a person I guess” you joke

the two of your haven’t seen each other in over two years after all

and with this limited amount of time you guys made the most of it

right before you have to leave, he tells you to wait 

so you settle down at the edge of the stage, where the two of you were, legs hanging off the sides

he comes jogging back over, a box in hand

“What is this? you already gave me a set of merch” you say laughing, accepting the box as he hands it to you

“A gift” he says, flashing his eye smile

you make a surprised sound,”hmm? what did i do, you already give me a bunch of free stuff” 

“Aye we’re best friends, besides it’s nothing burdensome, promise” he claps his hands together and grins

you pretend to glare at his seriously, “Imma hold you to that Hong” 

opening the box, that was clearly wrapped by a staff member or possibly Mingyu

you know your best friend after all

picking up the object, the first thing you register is it’s a really nice looking water bottle

well as nice as they get

you're a pretty quick person so 0.1 seconds later you register the giant bolded words in your favorite color

‘WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU RAMEN YOU TAKE IT AND EAT EVERY LAST BIT’

you stare at the bottle then turn at Joshua who’s looking at you excitedly

“Wow i'm a freakin philosopher” 

“Yah!” 

“Just kidding~ i love it i’m going take it with me everywhere” you smile, wrapping an arm around his shoulder

“Good and drink water-” 

“And alcohol because yes i'm definitely gonna fill it with vodka or something” you tease

“No no no you better not!” he says pretending you scold you

“Ssshhh we’ll see” you smirk

“Y/n L/n” 

“That’s me, your bff dude” 

he doesn’t bother to try to further the conversation, knowing he’ll lose

and so the too of you sit there 

basking in the stadium lights and sipping on water not alcohol ;) 

MASTERLIST

[whosplayerthree]

LSDR session summery 1:

Our Heroes’ Story begins with a wonderfully executed, extravagantly thought-out, and if I might add, attention grabbing prologue, explaining where our heroes are ( the city of Homsteed, capital city of Threeshuld– the southern most of the three smaller nations that make up the Trifecta Coalition) when/ why they are where they are( for the Trifectaversury ceremony, a festival that happens every year to celebrate the formation of the aforementioned Coalition, the three nation capitals rotating who hosts each year), and what their current situation is (staying in a small inn, located on a side-road of a side-road, all strangers to each other, but with the joining coincidence they all arrived the day before the festivities , which meant not a lot of open rooms at taverns and the like....also, did I mention every nation in this world is a floating islands? Yes? No? Well they are. Totally rad, rights?)........

 An alarm sounds as their promised wake up call for the opening ceremony. Bright and early, so they can hopefully be some of the first to the opening ceremony ( first 50 get an invite to the closing festival dance-- a wonderful connection opportunity to people of many walks of life, especially to those walking the adventures path) but late enough for the festival curfew to be over (only those with permits as part of the festival are allowed out during this time). On their way out, the party-to-be met with the inn+book/magical items/potions store owners, receiving a nice breakfast to-go from the more enthusiastic of the two, Taku, a map of the city from the less enthusiastic, Archibald.... and an equally awkward conversation.

The awkwardness for the 6 persisted as they were forced into a “we are not together but all headed for the same place” journey from the inn to the opening ceremony grounds......but it was not long before it was interrupted by papers falling from the sky. Papers with a notice about the kidnapping of a noble of the city! ....And the postponing of events he and other nobles were supposed to be at, such as the opening ceremony. As such (and because leaving the city was temporarily prohibited) the player characters proceeded to one of the guard stations for more information ( once again, just in the same direction! totally not together!) 

At the station, the players gathered additional info from the guard they talked to ( who had been trying to hide behind a potted plant to take a nap): 1, the Lord had been taken from his personal carriage after leaving the estate on his way to the ceremony grounds, a ransom note left in his place along with the unconscious guard that was supposed to be escorting him; 2, the content of the ransom notes itself, which read                                “If you want the young lord back, leave 100,000 gold in the bucket in the well in Mur Shrine Park.                                                                                             taking a big step down,                                                                                                          ---The Danglestuff "    ; and 3, the additional information (due to the guard having once worked at the estate) that this wasn’t exactly Lord Edmonds first kidnapping…. by a lot ( insert theories here from party about him being in on the ransom money, or maybe just being “into” that sort of thing….), but they just paid all the other ransoms, and they never gone public. But the guard said he’d never heard of the ransom being that high before, so… yeah. That’s it? Well, good luck with that. 

After the guard excused himself back to his bush nap, the player characters were left stumped as to what to do next… all aside from the grumpy ex-merchant/novice rouge, Rick. While the kidnappers alias, The Danglestuff, had seems like absolute gibberish to the rest of the party, Rick’s recent studies into Thieves Cant granted him the knowledge that no, that wasn’t just a silly sounding code name. It meant “the rope”. The phrase before it “taking a big step down” rung a bell with him as well, but he couldn’t quite remember what it meant. Turning around, he began thumbing through his guidebook for the answers, and there he found it. “Taking a big step” ----> “climb”. “Climb down the Rope”. The well in Mur Shrine Park. Climb down the Rope! A hints to go into the well! But why???

All of this, Rick decided, he would keep to himself. Go on and be a stinky old Lone Wolf player. Make all the others quits the game, turn this into a solo mission, and make the GM cry. Solid plan, he had there. And he would have gotten away with it too– most of the party currently transfixed by the luscious beauty of the napping bush....that lovely green napping bush....the loveliest bush in all the floating islands......none will ever forget your spender— if it weren’t for that meddling swamp person/ranger, Viss, who’d managed to escape the ensnaring beauty of the napping bush and was currently clinging to Rick’s back like a living backpack. They asked what Rick was doing. Rick (rightly) freaked out at the invasion of personal space. This games everyone’s attention once again. Regardless, Rick declares he’s heading out. Without them (And the GM had another panic attack). And he does so…. After forking over the ransom note, so they’ll stop following him. After all, he doesn’t need the clue anymore. Which is why, after a beat, the now kind-of-a-party continued to follow the grumpy duck to wherever he was going (and the GM cried with joy). After all! If he didn’t need the clue anymore, he must know what it means already!

Which is where our story was left for now....To be continued soon enough… Where Rick will probably quickly realize he does not actually know where the well is as it was not yet on his map.....Oops.

@ariel-s-awesome @brace-mace  @darkwingsnark @maria-ruta @tench @thenthereisthisstuff

[pelikinesis]

sesquipedalia

i forgot the word ‘sesquipedalian’ for a good half an hour, and it bothered me more than i imagined it could. the context and reason for this has to do with the only time I have ever said the word ‘sesquipedalian’ out loud, along with the juxtaposition of the last two stages of my life and all the fun worms grubs and bubbles that come slither-floating up out of the heavy moss-covered rocks they were happily cohabitating beneath for all this time.

i should specify that I’m not the kind of guy that would be upset about forgetting a word like sesquipedalian merely due to being the kind of guy who not only came across such a word but then chose to commit its definition to memory. anyone who has ever accused me of being intelligent has likely arrived at such a conclusion based on behaviors and habits of mine that are prompted first and foremost by perfectionism. or maybe i should say that an appetite for knowledge is kinda similar to other kinds of appetites, in that along with the appetite are preferences and habits--related, but not to be conflated as a single undifferentiated attribute.

anyways, so the first and probably only time I ever said the word ‘sesquipedalian’ out loud (aside from recounting this story in person or on the phone) was at the tail end of a grad school seminar which ran from 6-10pm. i forget which one, but the professor who taught it was unanimously considered to be the most intelligent in the whole department, at least as far as I heard. 

The utterance was prompted by him recounting an anecdote which quickly turned effectively tangential once he realized he wanted to use a word, and could recall the definition, but not the word itself. And yes, the word was ‘sesquipedalian’, so we’re about to come full circle in a way.

The reason I mention this professor being considered the smartest in the department is because whether out of confidence or pride he put a halt on what he was saying instead of moving on, instead speaking, mostly to himself I suspect, about how it was the perfect word to use in the situation.

I should also mention that this is the same professor who wrote, in a textbook he authored, a particular sentence about the difficulty of operationalizing the variable of “Intentionality” in regards to the study of emotional abuse. Here’s the sentence: “[Intentionality] is an intrinsically spontaneous epiphenomenon incapable of post-hoc verification.”

That sentence happens to be one of my favorite sentences in the English language, for reasons that transcend irony and authenticity. It’s the most absurdly-constructed sentence I’ve ever read, and yet I always find myself marveling at how its crafting makes perfect sense. I absolutely understand why he choose each and every one of those words and in that order, and yet the fact remains that NOBODY TALKS LIKE THAT. 

And also, I had to spend about as much time and effort into discarding my preconceptions of what each of those terms meant so that i could fully absorb the individual definitions from the subject of psychology, and then combine them procedurally to understand the meaning hidden away in this Rubik’s Cube of a sentence.

All this to say, a good few minutes passed while my professor was low-key beside himself trying to remember the word he’d forgotten, because everyone else in the room pretty much assumed he’d get it in the next five seconds. Ten. Twenty. Forty-five, huh. And all my classmates were looking around at one another, just as confused as me, except for one thing. I knew none of them were going to guess the word, and I knew I had an idea of what it was, and I was gonna take a shot at it because that would move the lecture along. Even if I was wrong, that still might help jog his memory towards the word he was thinking of).

But when I raised a hand and said, “...is the word ‘sesquipedalian?’” like a freaking Jeopardy! contestant, he gave a pleased affirmation and moved on with whatever he was originally trying to say. And thus the class proceeded to its conclusion with the aid of an exchange which permanently cemented me to the rest of my classmates as a total freaking nerd.

And I remembered all the details about that story, but couldn’t remember the word. I have a general understanding about how the memory retrieval process works, namely the part where it doesn’t always succeed without a hitch, and that’s pretty normal. But, for those thirty minutes spent on various online thesauruses (thesaurii?), I wondered if this meant my thinky-whatsits had significantly atrophied. 

And even though I honestly don’t consider “intelligent’ to be one of my defining attributes as a person (I’m slightly less uncomfortable with ‘analytical,’ but i can think of plenty of significant moments that suggest otherwise and I say that both with and without a trace of irony), forgetting the word ‘sesquipedalian’ was quite unsettling. In the case of my professor, I imagine it might have been connected to the fact that he was contemplating retirement, and all the accompanying questions it raises about identity amongst other things.

in my case, well...one of the reasons I don’t respond all that well to being told I’m intelligent (I don’t respond particularly gracefully to compliments of any sort for reasons, but this one has an exclusive dimension to it) is because i don’t actually know how smart i am. and sure, that’s a pretty dumb way to put it, but I had to type ‘sesquipedalian’ a whole bunch just to make it to this point in this post, so whatever, dude.

And understanding and coming to terms with my intelligence--in its current state, in its capacity for growth, and its limitations--is one of those really freaking important things i need to do before i can make any long-term plans about my future. and I know at a certain point I’ll need to take my shot on a leap of faith and roll with the punches while living on a prayer.

but the thing is, even though forgetting the word ‘sesquipedalian’ made me feel for a bit like i’m not as smart as i used to be, and bringing with that insecurity the much more substantial one of not being smart enough to accomplish what look like appealing and worthwhile life goals to me, one thing i’m even more convinced of is that i’m not as brave as i used to be.

I’m reminded of the first lines Thanos says in Infinity War. “I know what it's like to lose. To feel so desperately that you're right, yet to fail nonetheless. It's frightening, turns the legs to jelly.” And in the end of Infinity War, Thanos wins. The heroes fail, after dozens of movies over dozens of years seeing them triumph when things seemed bleakest time and time again.

Of course, there’s another movie after, and heroes win after all. I really enjoyed Infinity War, because that first time i watched it with my friends, as the credits rolled, i knew they felt the way I’d felt as I woke up every morning for the past 2 or 3 years. Except my experience of failure was neither vicarious nor fictional.

i guess I should tie this into talking about my book coming out next year, but part of me thinks I’m going to post this on my wordpress and then I’d have to think about how i’d do it to avoid making it sound like all the other times I’ve talked about my book there since that’s the whole point of me making a wordpress in the first place.

plus i’d have to properly capitalize a whole bunch of words since in tumblr no one capitalizes shit.