#this adhd ping pong waits for no one.

[filbuddy3]

im a lesbian btw

[qe-podfic]

Check out the cover illustration for Chapter 2 of Quantum Entangled. Made by the wonderfully talented @commentdismal

So impressive. The rendering took my knees. /pos

Excerpt below cut:

Crowley uneasily drifted into wakefulness with a crick in his neck, a mild hangover making itself apparent via an insistent thumping at the back of his skull. The lingering stench of a headache was drumming inside his head like he was the unfortunate desk assigned to a kid with ADHD. All things considered, it wasn’t the worst way Crowley had ever woken up. It didn’t even make the top ten. That’s why, despite not knowing exactly what reason he had for falling asleep on his own damn couch, he wasn’t all that concerned. Slowly, like a ping-pong ball through molasses, memories of the previous night trickled into his awareness.

Aziraphale was here. Aziraphale was here and in his bed. Aziraphale was here and in his bed and wearing his clothes. At once, Crowley realised he had made a grave tactical error.

Drunk Crowley and sober Crowley were only the same person by virtue of the fact that they unfortunately shared a body. Currently, sober Crowley was cursing—quite creatively, mind you—the very notion of that unavoidable fact. Always trying to make the best out of a bad situation, he decided to approach the morning with an impudent unfuckedness. As the saying went: ‘Not fucked over was the one who was unfucked.’ (-Confucius, probably.)

Crowley checked his watch, surprised to find that it was no later than eleven am. He wanted breakfast, or brunch, or just a nice package for the calories he depended on to… Y’know… Live. And it would be rude, if he was cooking for himself, to not at least offer something to his—rather reluctant, he remembered, mortified—guest.

Each stride rendered as unfucked as he could manage, he made his way to the kitchen. First, he used his hideously expensive coffee machine (a ROCKET MOZZAFIATO—imported from Italy) to make one flash bastard of a latte, with the ultimate goal of kicking his A1 adenosine receptors into a more coherent semblance of order. E.g. not receiving adenosine.

Then, he took a wok from his large and impressive array of pots and pans, like a gallery of hung men above the island bench top, and placed it on his induction stove. The stove itself was seamlessly blended into the counter in such a way that it made people helpless to envision burnt hands and accidental emergency-room phone calls. The sleek black design (because Crowley could be sold on almost anything if you made it sleek and black enough) was self-aggrandising in the same way that many circumspect judges on certain cooking shows were. The kitchen as a whole, really, was a lustrous example of the kind of high-tech cookhouse you’d find in the back of a Michelin star restaurant. 

Grabbing a few eggs from the fridge, Crowley scoured for omelette ingredients that were both generally palatable as to, hopefully, not be offensive to Aziraphale’s tastes—whatever they were—and impressive enough to make Crowley seem like he, at the very least,  knew what he was doing on a culinary level. Sticking to his mantra of unfuckedness, Crowley picked out some bacon, cheese, and spinach, along with various herbs and spices from the pantry. Crowley liked omelettes as a general rule. The ratio of effort to edible nutrition was highly favourable—having spent most of his life as a university student with no spare energy to waste on frivolous flambés, brûlées, or any other such fancy French dish.

Making an omelette wasn’t a difficult process. There were two steps; step one was to put all of your ingredients (chopped or unchopped depending on how groggy you were when preparing it) into the pan. Step two was to wait. Heat and time. They were the universal duo that laid claim to the title of ‘instigator’ in most molecular reactions.

Obedient to this philosophy of unfuckedness, heat and time, Crowley chopped bacon, cracked eggs, tore spinach, and altogether cooked a damn good meal. With the two omelettes cooling on their respective plates (the plates were square shaped and black because Crowley refused to be acquainted with the typical agreement of things) he ventured through his cupboards on a mission for tea. Aziraphale seemed like the tea-drinking kind. Finding an abandoned box of loose-leaf French Earl Grey, the label slightly sun faded, he put the kettle on.

Proud of his domestic accomplishments, he set off to wake Aziraphale. He hoped the comestible peace offering would be a balm for any of the awkwardness left over, lingering, from last night.

“Knock, knock,” he greeted onomatopoeically, tapping on the bedroom door.

“Urmf—Crowley?” came the quiet reply, obvious in how freshly awake it sounded. Crowley opened the door, just a crack—not enough to see into the room but enough to let some light in—before chuckling mildly.

“Morning, Angel. I made breakfast. Tea is available too, if you want some.” There was a muffled sound of agreement, and then the distinct shuffling of someone getting out of bed. Crowley padded his way to the kitchen to give the man some privacy.

He was halfway through his own omelette, near-afternoon sun shining down on him from large windows on the east side of the kitchen, when Aziraphale made his presence known. With a curt clearing of the throat, he stood, unsure of himself, at the edge of the kitchen’s connecting hall.

Crowley was fucked. Oh, he was so utterly fucked. Aziraphale made an innocuous image, in Crowley's home, in Crowley's clothes; but that did not stop the racing ambitions of Crowley's mind. Aziraphale wasn't to know this, though. The Queen shirt hung loose on him, gently draping over one shoulder but leaving the other exposed. Crowley felt like a Victorian—or the man responsible for the dress codes of high school girls—scandalised at the revelation of flesh. He reprimanded himself for his undignified train of thought. Aziraphale deserved more than to be ogled like a piece of meat at the snout of a hungry, hungry hound. He couldn't possibly help that his hair was bed-messy, nor the fact that it did terrible things to Crowley's sense of composure. Nonetheless, Crowley would survive. He wasn't a wanton beast. Humanity afforded him—in theory—some amount of dignity.

“Your plate’s over there. I tried to guess how you take your tea; is ‘two sugars and a splash of milk’ anywhere at all close?” he asked Aziraphale, swallowing a bite to hide the raspy quality of his own voice. The astonishment on Aziraphale's face answered a simple ‘yes’. Although, maybe it was astonishment at the breakfast laid out in front of him. It wasn't really a normal move, Crowley reflected sheepishly, to cook a meal for the guy who had just come over for a drunken movie marathon. But Crowley wasn't normal in most things, so he resolutely didn't think about it.

“Yes,” Aziraphale murmured, gaping a little.

“That's exactly how I take it.” The whisper was draped in the kind of mid-morning confusion that only ever occurred after a late night of considerable drinking. He gently cupped the mug, tendrils of steam rising from it in fragrant arches. Sipping the beverage softly, his eyes fluttered shut, simple pleasure oozing from the drop in his shoulders.

“Thank you, Crowley.” His voice was etched in all-too-raw sincerity. He opened his eyes, gazing at him with the kind of look that forced Crowley to turn away.

“Don't thank me. It's the least I could do,” Crowley mumbled weakly. Undeterred, but still feigning propriety, Aziraphale hummed in absent acquiescence. He took the plate with his omelette, looking suddenly affected.

The gentle graze of porcelain plate against the bench top seemed almost reverent, as Aziraphale sat himself on the barstool next to Crowley’s. One thing that Crowley had learnt about Aziraphale—in the heated revelry of their late evening—was that he liked food. No, he didn't just like food. He loved food. Adored food. Damn near worshipped food. As he slowly raised the fork to his lips, Crowley hoped that the sacrifice was fit for the tabernacle of his idolatry.

Aziraphale’s eyes popped open in wide, slightly hedonism-glazed, surprise. 

“Oh—” He almost keened. And, if Crowley wasn't already red in the face, this would have been the inelegant signal that drove blood to the apple of his cheeks.

“Oh! This is simply scrumptious!” Aziraphale praised, made guileless by the distraction of—rather excellent, in his opinion—cuisine. Crowley ducked his head as if trying to bob under the blow of his words.

Untrusting of his vocal cords, Crowley didn't reply, content to revel in silence while Aziraphale finished his meal. The relative quiet gave him the chance to recalibrate after the unexpected misalignment of his neurological circuitry. It was peaceful. Cosy.

Discord:

AO3:

[honeydropsintea]

a new life - a diary, chapter 1

agh, i apologize for this rare rant but i need to vent someway somewhere. excuse the lack of grammar.

it is hard to be productive. it is hard to continue going when you are falling. is that possible? i feel lost, stuck, and like i’m falling all at the same time. my head feels like a cloud, i’m just waiting for the hurricane to break out.

i have sent emails to 25+ contacts, faculties, departments of 3 different colleges and … crickets. i had luck with 1 person fully - i even got a zoom meeting just to learn i should go into the other department since they have more research student opportunities. no problem, right? well, the few people i have heard from either say i am not a fit, they aren’t doing anything with students, they are retiring, on sabbatical, etc etc etc.

i expect or at least prepare for disappointment to some degree in many cases, but this is one of the hardest areas, chapters, of my life. i am planning on moving out, starting a career in academia (hopefully to be a research student, graduate assistant). i’ve lost all my routine. i’ve lost a lot of myself. i have no sleep schedule, no habit tracking, nothing. very few days do i have a ‘good’ day. i feel so lost, stuck when i get excited that someone has answered my email, just to feel crushed that they aren’t accepting students. i feel like a ping pong ball being shot to and forth.

i’m an environmental biologist whose range of studies and experience is everywhere - truly, i love learning just like a lot of people on productive tumblr, instagram, etc. i mean, we are a generation romanticizing learning, and besides some of the toxic content or messages (disregarding health, having to have perfect grades and no life outside of education, etc etc) i think a lot of us truly love and appreciate knowledge and academia. we are blessed to have it.

so, why can’t anyone accept me? i know, it’s not personal, but my current mind state is . . . lost.

i quit my previous graduate assistant job after a year and 3 semesters. it wasn’t research, the college was my ‘safe choice’ and that was a mistake, since personnel went to crap and the opportunities? there were none. there was only one professor in the program i was pursuing a masters of science in.

this whole summer, i had lists and plans. plans to get back on track, to find a school and job for spring 2025. i fall notoriously into the aggressive list making (i blame my ocd and adhd) but since my therapist said they can make me feel like failing - putting too much down out of reach, just to be unable to check it off at the end - that i need to make mine realistic. and i have gotten pretty okay at that. simple things. and in reality, my summer lists weren’t that ‘hard’ or out of reach. except they were for my current state. i am in the midst of changing my antidepressant since, for the past year, i have had a steady decline in mental everything. anxiety? off the charts. depressed nights? increasing. i blamed it on the job i was in, and partly it really was that. i had lost 2 of my pets. my other pet, a cat, is chronically ill. i’ve had so many external factors that i thought were the cause of my internal chaos, but it’s to the point i can’t live. i don’t feel like myself.

this sounds so ‘pity me’ and i apologize, i just…needed to rant. and maybe out there, someone is in the same chapter i am. we aren’t alone, i know that, but it’s hard to constantly remind yourself of that when everything feels like an unchecked list. this too shall pass, i say. the problem is i’m impatient. it has to come soon, i can’t live like this. but, i need to take care of myself first. maybe making this post will enforce the change, start the chemical reaction for my new life. i don’t know.

all images from Pinterest.

[umemiyan]

9 & 14 with Suga! <33

EEEEEEE MY MAN thank u lexi <33

9. Before dating, did either of you ever have any embarrassing moments? (Examples: Socially awkward moments, almost accidentally revealing your feelings to them, being clumsy, etc.)

definitely!!! nothing too bad but we both certainly got rather flustered sometimes. we’re not exactly the most experienced people in terms of dating so the nerves were high at first, maybe even more so with suga. i mean have you seen when kiyoko took his hands that one time 😭😭 he was flipping out lmfao and tbh that didn’t change much shdjdddjdjdi

also my adhd brain be going brrrrr sometimes so i’d probably see suga while picking my brother up from school, get excited and then like… almost trip over a stick or something because i stopped paying attention to the ground 😭

his calm energy helps balance me out tho. he obv gets nervous but he keeps it in check and reassures me when i get embarrassed about talking too much or too fast because i’m anxious/excited. i feel like i’m always saying dumb, incoherent, or crazy stuff bc my brain is a ping pong ball which makes me wanna die, and he might tease me a bit but he never truly minds. i’m a bit vulgar and wild but he often finds it entertaining.

14. Is there a love triangle going on? Any jealousy moments? Former relationships/crushes?

no tbh once i'm in deep with suga i'm convinced that no other man exists like that's it pack it up everybody. he's the same way with me but i have trouble believing it for a while and i get nervous when he has to talk to his students' moms and shit because he's so cute and sweet asoijfwoiefj i don't do anything toxic but i'm always just waiting for the day when he loses interest in me LOL but that has yet to happen <3 he's a faithful ass bitch i love him. we also both have very minimal dating histories so there aren't any exes getting in the way of anything!! begone thots

before dating selfship asks

[inhayara]

Usually when my ADHD affects my life, it’s with concentration or executive dysfunction. Today, however, I learned that I do not know how time works.

I’m on my school’s gymnastics team - temporarily as a manager - and after school today I went to the gym to wait for the other team members to show up. I was a bit confused as to why we had practice the week of midyears (the horror!), but I had gotten the confirmation this morning from the team captain. So I sat in the gym, and I waited.

We have a pretty large gym (perks of going to a school with funding) and so some members of the Science Olympiad team were in the gym, throwing ping pongs or measuring bridges or whatever a bunch of nerds with too much tape and access to power tools do with their free time. (It should be noted that I’m also on the Science Olympiad team.) There was a teacher there that was supervising them, and he asked me a few questions about what I was doing there (gymnastics), who I was waiting for (gymnastics), and generally other questions about gymnastics. I answered, again reiterating that I was there for gymnastics. One of my friends who’s on the Science Olympiad team was also there, and I talked a bit with her, again emphasizing that I was there for a reason. Gymnastics.

So the thing about gymnastics is that it takes a while to set up. That’s why we start earlier and end later than other team practices - we have to drag all the equipment out and lug it to its proper position. It’s a whole thing. While waiting for my currently late team, I decide to get a head start on taking equipment out like a responsible person and brought down two of the rolled-up floor mats. At this point it’s four pm (practice started at 3:30. So I text one of my friends, asking her if she’s coming to practice today, subtly telling her “where the fuck is everyone it’s four pm what’s happening???”

And she responds very confused. I read her texts, then check the main gymnastics group chat.

Apparently, my brain had interpreted getting the texts this morning as getting them last night, and therefore I thought that tomorrow equaled today, Tuesday. But no - tomorrow meant tomorrow, Wednesday. I am, in fact, an idiot, and now have to put the equipment away.

I look at the mats currently on the floor. I have a herniated disc injury in my back, which is why I’m temporarily a manager. Apart from not doing gymnastics, this also means that I shouldn’t lift heavy things. It’s not too debilitating of an injury, but I did neglect it for a while at which point it became much more painful and I had to go to physical therapy for a while. I’m still not fully recovered.

The mats, as far as mats can, look back at me. I decide I’m going to lift some heavy things.

At first I considered it a boon that the mats were left rolled up. I was younger and more naive back then.

The first mat goes up with minimal struggle, and I get it into its proper place. I have to unravel part of it to block off the rest of the gymnastics equipment from any unruly teenagers looking to grab at expensive things they don’t understand (or hide from the gym teachers). I turn to the second mat.

Getting it up goes fine, but then I try to unravel it. The unraveled part immediately starts to tilt backwards until the entire mat collapses forward.

I attempt to pick it up again. The mat falls again.

On the fourth try, the mat has become so loosely rolled that it is unmanageable. I stare at it in dismay, realizing that at this point, even if it were to stand upright, I would still need to roll it back into a tight spiral. Therefore, my best option was to roll it up the other way starting with the opposite end.

I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to roll up a mat in a cramped room where only a quarter of it can be unrolled and fit in said room at all times, but it is not an experience that I would recommend to the faint of heart. Or bones. Or joints. Did I mention I have a disc injury?

Anyways, after a lot of huffing and puffing, I had succeeded in rolling up the accursed mat the other way around. Now it was time to stand up my freshly rolled pillar of doom next to its sibling.

I shifted it into place, unraveled it, and it immediately began to fall over.

I grabbed the mat before it hit the ground and struggled with keeping it from collapsing upon the floor, pausing only to lay my cheek dramatically against it and close my eyes in exasperation. Eventually I managed to shift it just enough so it was tilted at a very odd angle, but wasn’t falling over. I took a moment to silently proclaim my despair to the heavens.

With enough shoving and pulling and near-falls, the mat was (mostly) how it should have been. It was definitely past 4 pm, and I was panting from doing all of that in a sweater. Tomorrow I’ll somehow have to face every single person to whom I told that I had gymnastics practice today and explain myself.

Anyways, this is probably why my therapist insinuated to me last week that I should be keeping a calendar.

[quillyfied]

A minor interlude about my sticker canvases project:

This project was begun in mind as a detour from the vague idea I’ve had for a few years now, which is “get or have Dad build some piece of furniture I plan on keeping for a while so the stickers can live somewhere permanent and on display.” I had the thought of a big tall desk organizer, and showed a few options to my dad to get his opinion on buying Vs building. His opinion: “handmade will take longer and likely be heavier and sturdier, store-bought will get here faster and be lighter but maybe less durable. Up to you, child.” I didn’t decide on anything, but did realize the thing about the stickers on canvases instead of furniture, and decided to get on that instead with the thought that once I got a desk organizer I would have a place to display the canvases.

Because my dad also has the ADHD and I pinged one of his emerging interests (building things from wood, as most Dad species picked up during lockdown heyday), he percolated on the idea for a couple weeks, then remembered some old laminated particle boards from our old ping-pong table that he kept for years. We dragged them out, and while the laminate is tearing off due to age, the boards themselves are pretty straight still, and the desk organizer I want comes with very exact measurements shown right in the listing, so he also has a blueprint to work from too. He still has to fix his table saw (keeps moving minutely during cutting, throwing measurements off by just enough to be very bad for sturdy furniture building), and the boards might not even cut properly, but he has a new project and I get to be involved in sating a shared curiosity, so theoretically everyone wins.

The hitch? Dad has warned me and I understand that building the thing could take a long time depending on his schedule and if materials cooperate. Which means I have sticker canvases spread all over my desk in the meantime. Sigh. (I’m telling myself I’m just letting them cure. In reality, I’m leery about storing them until I get some wax paper to put between them so they don’t stick together, which means either going to the store or grabbing the stack of it from work that I keep forgetting about, then finding a place for them to actually be while I wait on the organizer—)

[dameronology]

yellow (e.m)

summary: just mindless, plotless fluff. i was listening to yellow by coldplay when i was writing it lol.

warnings: swearing, heavy mentions of weed/getting high, no vol 2 spoilers

this is a retrospective apology for the angst i think i'm dropping later tonight oops. enjoy.

-jazz

Eddie Munson was a spitfire with the world's most severe case of undiagnosed ADHD.

He ping-ponged between two extremes; one was a golden retriever on narcotics and the other was a mellowed out, insightful man. When he was hyperactive, Eddie was always moving in circles around you - in your orbit, spinning round you the way the Earth did to the sun - barely allowing a breath between words. He got so excited, a white hot ball of energy, leaving a trail of scrawled campaign notes and half-written songs in his wake. It was pure chaos, but it was also warm and familiar. It was insane contrast to when he was high off his left nut, sat on the sofa with his blunt in one hand and guitar in the other. It was moments like that you were convinced he could be the next Jimi Hendrix, coming out with a combination of scarily insightful thoughts paired with a few chords and melodies. Then he would let out the world's biggest yawn, pass the fuck out and forget it all.

Today was definitely more of the hyperactive days. You were curled up in the corner of the trailer, your college work laid out in front of you. Eddie, meanwhile, was sat beside you, gangly legs just touching you. He would occasionally give you a kick and a smile.

"Baaaaaabe," his voice was a drawl. "Do you wanna watch a movie?"

"After this, Eds," you replied, glancing up at him. "I'll only be a few more hours-"

"- Jaws," he cut you off. "I wanna watch Jaws."

"Why don't you go down to Family Video?" you proposed. "By the time you're back, I'll be done."

"Nah," he grumbled. "I don't fancy seeing Harrington right now."

"But you're content sat here staring at me?"

"I love staring at you," Eddie grinned. "There are much worse things to look at."

"Like what?"

"Harrington."

You let out a groan, turning your attention back to the notes in front of you. Just a few more hours, you thought to yourself. Then I can give him whatever the fuck he wants.

Eddie began wriggling on the sofa so that his head was closest to you now; there was barely a second before he'd whacked your notepad from your lap, promptly replacing it with a stupid grin and a tangle of messy hair. His big bug eyes, although dark, were lit up the evening sun from the window behind you. It was only in this light that you could see the little flecks of gold and amber amongst the brown.

"Edward," you said sternly. "This is why you haven't fucking graduated! We said we would have a study day-"

"- I am studying," he shot back. "I'm studying you."

"Oh my god. Could you be any cornier?" you replied, barely able to hide your eye roll. Still though, your minor annoyance didn't stop you softly carding a hand through his hair, gently organising the strands that had fallen over his face. "I'm on the last chapter. I promise."

"I have nothing to do!" he whined. "I'm so lonely without you-"

"- bit rich considering your head is in my lap, Eds."

"Yeah, maybe you're right."

"What do you normally do when I'm gone?"

Eddie peered up at you, grin widening. "Wait for you to come home. Sometimes I smoke weed."

"So go smoke then!" you suggested.

"I can't. I'm out and I'm not picking up from Reefer Rick until tomorrow-"

Pausing for a moment, you reached across to grab your bag. After rummaging around for a few minutes, you produced the half-smoked blunt you hadn't finished last night. It wasn't much, but you shoved it in Eddie's mouth with hope, in the same way a mother might sticky a dummy in the mouth of a crying child. He didn't respond until you stuck your hand in his back pocket and pulled out a lighter.

"Will this shut you up?"

"For a bit," he said with a wink, shoving the smoke to the corner of his mouth and taking an inhale. "This weed is awful. Who did you buy it from?"

You peered down at him, thinning your eyes. "I don't know. It was some guy Robin knows-"

Eddie sat up in the blink of an eye, brown eyes filled with completely unwarranted fury. You jumped back at the motion, barely avoiding your foreheads colliding. He twisted himself to face you, a gangly leg on either side of your lap as he pressed his face to yours with a scowl.

"You're cheatin' on me?"

You rolled your eyes. "Because I brought from someone else?"

"Yeah!" he exclaimed.

"You were at Hellfire Club!" you shot back. "Last time I interrupted one of those meetings you didn't talk to me for three days."

Eddie let out a tiny grumble. After thinking for a moment, there was a huff and then as if he had forgiven you, he burrowed his head in the crook of your neck and tightening his arms around your waist. Normally, you would have fought him off but the moment was just too soft.

After a moment like that, he pulled away and fell back onto the sofa, dragging you with him. You let out a yelp and collided with his chest, barely avoiding rolling off the sofa. Eddie grabbed you and steadied you, large hands holding your forearms as he propped himself up on his elbows. He had a huge grin on his face; it met his eyes in seconds, nothing but love and adoration and fucking pride because hell, he had just won the battle. Your notes were on the floor now, strewn with the spliff he had written off.

"What's with you today?" you softly asked.

"How'd you mean?" Eddie absent-mindedly replied, eyes not meeting yours. They were following his hands as they moved over your body; up your arms, down your back, and then to cup your face. Your gaze met his then, and he gave you a gentle smile.

"You're clingy, I know that much, but especially so today," you said. "Is something up?"

He shook his head. "No. I just missed you."

"I've been here all day-"

"- I know," he cut you off with a smile. "Maybe I got a bit jealous that you're spending more time with that textbook than you are with me."

"A bit jealous?" you teased. "Or are you just mad that you're not the center of my attention all the time?"

"Pffft, no," Eddie said. "That doesn't sound like me at all."

"All this from the man that ignored me for two whole days last week over a D&D campaign?" you continued to taunt, but his grin was as wide as yours. His eyes fell down to the shirt you were wearing - his Hellfire one, naturally.

"If you're going to keep giving me ironclad logic then I am not going to argue with you," he huffed, smile still not faltering.

"Good," you beamed. "I don't want to argue either."

Eddie leant down and pressed a kiss to your lips. He tasted of mint - he always had gum - and a little of cigarettes. It was intoxicating taste, one that brought you back to the first few days of your relationship. You'd been getting high under the bleachers in sophomore year and after months of pining, Eddie had finally kissed you. Almost four years had passed and it still hadn't gotten old. He was your home now; a tangle of curly hair and dark eyes that you could never seem to break away from. And why would you want to? Eddie was everything you could ever need; sweet, funny, your best fucking friend. He looked after you and you knew he'd go to the ends of the Earth to make you happy. Right now, though, your lives were tied together in the confines of the trailer park and you had absolutely nothing else to think about but each other.

"So we'll meet halfway and agree that I was right and you were wrong?"

"That is so not how that works, Eddie," you laughed.

He pressed another kiss to your lips before sitting up, hands grabbing your ass and keeping you on his lap and he turned to sit back on the sofa properly.

"So," he began. "Jaws?"

You let out a soft laugh. "Yeah, Jaws."

You hopped off his lap and leant down to pile up your scattered notes. Eddie followed suit - not without placing a slap to your ass as he passed - and began to rummage around for his keys. You caught his denim jacket in midair as he threw it at you, pulling it over your shoulders. He then tossed you your boots one by one, before pulling on his own and kicking open the door.

"After you, hot stuff."

You gave him a wink as you passed, tangling your hands with his on the way to the van. It took a few tries to open the passenger side door - y'know, on account for the fact that it was a rusting pile of shit - but as soon as you were in, Eddie was beside you with one hand on the wheel and one on your thigh. It was an unspoken rule that you always chose the music.

"Really?' Eddie quirked an eyebrow at you, brown eyes momentarily siding you. "Fucking ABBA?"

"You drive, I choose the music," you shot back. "That's how it is."

He let out a cute little grumble, but you could have sworn you heard him muttering the lyrics to Angel Eyes. Luckily for him, Family Video wasn't too long of a drive. Especially not when Eddie broke every speed limit known to man. It was funny how he did it so suavely, one hand holding yours and the other violently spinning the wheel every time there was a corner. He didn't let go of your hand when he had to change gear, instead just pulling your fingers with his as he reached for the shift stick.

Eddie halted outside the video store with a screech. He hopped out the van and jogged round the other side, opening the door for you and holding out his hand. He was a fucking cheeseball.

"Thank you, Mr Munson," you couldn't help but laugh as your feet hit the ground, leaning against him to steady the balance.

"Y'know, I think you might be a future Munson too."

Your eyebrows shot up. "Seriously?"

"I mean..." he trailed off, coming to stand in front of you. He took your hands in his, fingers interlacing with yours as he lifted them and aimlessly waved them around. "I could take your surname?"

"You're soft today," you murmured.

"Yeah, I am," he gave you a soft smile. "It's probably because I'm in love with you."

"You love me?"

"I love you."

You grinned. "I love you too."

His large hands found your waist, gently pushing you back against the side of the van. Eddie placed a kiss on your lips without a word; one hand on your ass, the other placed beside your head on the van with an arm caging you in. It was late and there was no one else around, so you didn't care too much about anyone seeing the PDA.

"I've always loved you," he admitted. "Ever since that day in freshman year that you told me my hair was stupid."

"That was six years ago-"

"- it took me six years to recover from it," he cut you off. "C'mon, let's go get Jaws."

You pressed one more kiss to his lips. "Let's go."

tags: @karasong @megmeg-chan @adamgetawaydriver @eddington-munson

[skyland2703]

Minific about Javi and Amelia doing some cute adhd/autistic things please?

“We’re supposed to be working” Amelia said, watching Javi trying to balance a ball point pen on his upper lips, and eyeing it, waiting for it to fall off, “And we’ve been sitting idly for the past one hour”

Hearing the words, Javi looked up at her, and the balance tilted, and the pen fell, when Javi leaned forward and caught it mid air with his teeth, now squiggling it around from right to left using his tongue, and moving it in the opposite direction. 

“Comparisons between the James Webb and Hubble telescopes. This is something we should get Ollie’s opinion on” Javi laughed, spitting the pen out, and wiping the saliva on it, on the inside of his shirt. 

Amelia rolled her eyes, “But he’s not Buzzblast, plus asking for his help for a Buzzblast article? That’s gonna be a fiasco any way. Remember that thing with the thunderstorm and jellybeans?” 

“Oh don’t remind me” Javi laughed, leaning back in his seat, and then spinning it around once, while Amelia pulled out another pen from the stand, this time a click one, and started to dismantle it for parts, pulling out the back cover, followed by the refill, and a small spring slid out, and she stared at it for a really long time, and that was when it caught Javi’s eye, and he stopped his spinning, and stared at the spring. Both of them looked at the little contraption, and then at each other, and then, as if on cue, pouncing on it together, swatting hands away like cats, fingers curled into paws, to keep the other one off the spring and get it themselves. 

One of their hands struck the spring and it bounced off, and ping ponged against the printer, went up in the air, and, to both Javi and Amelia’s disappointment, down into the shadows of the underside of the desk. 

“Nuuuuu” Amelia groaned, “we’ll never put this pen back together if we don’t find the spring”

“We gotta find that spring; bet I can do it first” he winked, challenging her, and she laughed, “as if I’d let you” and on cue, the two of them dipped down to the underside of the desk, and both of them crawling in the darkness, looking for the little spring, onle sounds of laughter echoing.

[koushuwu]

Oh wait, another one:

In my WIP(s), who's your favorite character? Why?

And also:

If you had only one week left on this earth, what would you spend your time doing?

And if you're so inclined:

What's the best part of being a writer?

Oooooh. In your WIPS, is that even a question? Hunter ofc. idk man, i've always had a thing for the big stoic ones, and Hunter just really does the job. even when he finally opens up to Noah and they really start bantering! i love that SO much. i'll include you one and let you know that in a close second though, theres Lucien. Oh fuck. wait does he count? you've already finished the first book, and...... um.... Julian then. as a second. because if i can't have Hunter, then Julian does have that thing too, that i fucking love, even if he's not my first love. he CAN be my biggest love. ok. one week left on this earth. first off my adhd would probably make me forget a lot of the things that i would want to do, but i think in general i'd make sure i surround myself with the people that i love, and make sure that they know i love them. i'd make time to say my goodbye's and give my loved ones the best closure they can get. because helping others is what i love doing the most, even if it's fucking heavy on my at times, as you know. i'd want to leave this place, knowing that my friends and family knows i loved them more than anything, when i'm not around anymore. might even sit my ass down and write ya'll a personal letter. yea. i think that's what i'd do. oh and the best part of being a writer? to me it's the satisfaction of watching my ideas unfold. and sharing those ideas with others. doesn't have to be actual readers though. but just like... things like ping ponging my ideas with you. brainstorming. seeing projects come together. as frustrating as being a writer is, that's what makes it worth it.

these were fucking deep ones dude, i love it!

[shigarakis-fifth-hand]

Undercover; Jirou x Poly! Reader x Momo

Jsjsjs okay, poly x reader (Bc I'm a closeted poly irl lmao) How about jirou x reader x momo, but they're all pro-heroes. The reader is like an undercover agent-type hero. (Not like an underground hero, i mean full james bond stuff) But they went to UA with the rest of the class 1a. Maybe they're all at a school reunion & the reader is technically doing cover work in plain sight. An assassin is trying to kill/miam one of the top 10 heroes. Go from there. (Also, thx for telling me abt ur rq💛🥺)

UA’s year of 2048’s 10-year Reunion had people flying in from all over. Iida had to cut his meeting short and fly overseas, Jirou had to miss a concert that she had with her fans, totally forgetting and planning last-minute per usual, and of course, you had forgotten about it until your boss brought something up about it. At first, you had been sad that you would not be able to go and see all of your friends from years ago due to the crazy amount of work that stacked up on your desk, mountain beyond mountains of emails and files, begging you to take their case.

But luckily, going to the Reunion was a case itself, and a very important one. Eraserhead, one of the underground, older heroes, had been beginning to be threatened by an organization of hero-haters on social media. At first, it had all been just petty hate and bickering, until the threats began to pour in from this random account. Police had identified the IP address, only to find nothing beyond that. That’s when Eraserhead began getting “gifts” left outside his door, and notes too. Threatening notes, telling him to enjoy his last days before he was killed by the sender. Your company, the Federal Hero Unit Agency, had begged him not to attend the reunion and stay in his apartment with his husband Present Mic until the situation could be dealt with. But, he had refused to miss a night with his favorite past class. 

That’s when you had been contacted by your Boss personally, and assigned the case of protecting him through out the night, keeping a watch on him while not giving away your identity as an agent and protector. That’s right, you were an FBI agent that dealed with Hero Matters, including but not limited to stalkers, missing heroes, murdered heroes, and keeping track of where, when, and how the heroes were doing mentally. A hero in a bad mental state was a disaster waiting to happen. You had chosen the job, not only because the company was begging you, but you needed to help keep the heroes of the town safe. The heroes would protect the city, and you would protect them. This also gave you reason to keep a close watch on all your past classmates and how they were doing. In a world like your own, you wanted to be the first to know when they got hurt so you could go see them. They didn’t know how but you always knew when and how they were doing.

Checking yourself out in the mirror, you were fairly impressed by the look of the dress you had gotten last minute. A black dress that showed your shoes nicely, fairly simple but also cute. Looked well with your skin tone. “Ready gorgeous?” Your girlfriend Momo walked through the door, glancing you up and down and smiling. You turned to look at her, in her best color of red of course. He wore a low cut dress of course to your dismay that only promised that you two would have fun tonight if she wanted it. “Where’s Jiri?” You asked, surprised when she smiled lightly of getting to see the third to your Three Muscuteers. Your other girlfriend, Jirou, had been on tour of her concert. You would have happily joined her if it hadn’t required taking over a month off of work, which was not allowed. Still, you hadn’t physically seen her in such a long time, and FaceTime had got boring past a week of doing it.

At the same time, you and Momo had more time to yourself, able to fully spend hours and hours making love without Jirou wanting to run off and watch a movie or sing karaoke with her ADHD self. You did miss her though, and would be so happy to see her in just an hour at the school. “I’m so glad your work let you do this. I was not showing up to that party without someone to hold onto, I’m not that independent.” She giggled before turning to look at you both in the mirror. “Aww, we look cute. Hope Jiri didn’t just wear jeans and a shirt like she said she would. I think that was just a joke, but again, would not be surprised.” Momo exclaimed as you two made it to the door of the two bedroom condo on the top floor of the penthouse you rented. The roof allowed you ways to leave your house using your quirk and not be tracked by cameras. The more discreet, the better for your career anyways.

Out the grand doors of the lobby and into the limo Momo had arranged, you two waited eagerly to pull up to the school. UA, the place where everything had changed. You had moved in with Momo as roommates the first year, and from then had began getting romantic. It was only after you lost your virginities that you fully and verbally established a relationship with one another. Momo had promised to keep herself “pure”, but the way you kissed her lips was nothing but like an angel to her, so she couldn’t help herself. For a while, Jirou had only been a close friend for the both of you. Sure, Jirou kissed you but it was only “friendly”. You sent her your nudes, but only to get some feedback on how good you looked. Jirou would try on your clothes and change in your room, but it was only because you were both girls and it was no big deal. Jirou only came along into the relationship after getting drunk at a party and you all learning new ways for three people to touch at once. 

Boy, were you excited to see her. Finally, the limo pulled up to the school, lots of camera flashing following your arrival. Used to it by now, you held your hand up to your face to block the light, pulled your arm over Momo’s shoulders, and pulled her along with you up the stairs and into the building, ignoring all the yelling and questions. Immediately as you entered, a wave of nostalgia entered you as you were remembered of the many days you guys would sit on the couch, eat, and play ping pong, having the news play in the background of heroes and their work or fights. It only fit the aesthetic of what you were all training to be. Some would say you were each other's competition, but you all were friends. There was no doubt about the undying platonic love you all shared. Momo must have felt it too as she squealed and giggled, squeezing your hand and jumping up and down. 

“I have to go to the bathroom. Go ahead of me, alright? I’ll be there in a minute.” You smiled, gave her a wink, and watched her way safely in the room. After having so many villains want you dead, there was no problem being extra careful with the ones you loved, especially after knowing someone dangerous was possibly already in the building. You walked into the ladies room, seeing two girls already there. A woman with a black pixie cut and black dress, sort of similar to your own, stood at the mirror, fixing her makeup. The other had long, bright red hair and dark skin. You nodded to them, smiling as you walked into the stall.

Being as silent as you were trained, you slid out the earpiece and clipped it onto your ear, adjusting the mic to just under your ear, and the sound projector into your ear. You made some noise, then stepped out, nodded to the ladies again, and left. Quickly walking, eager to start your mission, see your girlfriends, and your friends. As you walked into the room, the party seemed to buzz extra loud as everyone saw you. Denki practically tackled you, not changing but from the peach fuzz on his chin and tattoo below his eye. You had seen Denki multiple times in public and when you scheduled to meet up, but this time just seemed special. “My girl! What’s up?! You look- so good!” He exclaimed, his eyes lingering on your figure. “Watch it tiger, this one is taken.” You looked behind him to see Mina, much taller, and with a more alt look to her now. “Yes! You’re dating Momo and Jirou right? They published you in Hero Weekly multiple times. You represent more than you can imagine Y/n!” Deku exclaimed. You smiled and winked at him, seeing that he hadn’t changed but from his hair style, and the fact that Todoroki swung his arm around him. “Good to… see you.” Todoroki mumbled slowly. You knew he meant well, but yet he hadn’t changed as well, personality included. “There she is!!” She turned to see Kirishima and Sero, running up to you full-speed. “Sero! Kiri!” You practically screamed, jumping into the arms of your awaiting guy friends. “God, I’ve missed you!!” You exclaimed, smiling ear to ear. 

“We saw you two days ago, chill dude.” Sero giggled, before separating. “Y/n. Kirishima. Sero. Please refrain from yelling inside.” You all looked behind you to see Aizawa, holding a glass of wine and wearing a suit. He hadn’t aged a day, and yet, the eyebags were just a little deeper. “Sorry Mr. Aizawa.” You grinned, giving him your best apologizing smile. Things haven't changed that much over 10 years. “Although your looks have altered, your personalities haven’t changed. Good.” Your past teacher smiled warmly, for possibly the first time, and walked away. You were about to begin talking to your friends again when you saw Shinso standing behind Aizawa, staring at you with surprise in his eyes. 

Slowly and nervously, he walked up to you. “Y/n…” He looked down at your body and back up you. You couldn’t help but get creeped out, knowing that you and Shinso had once been together, but Jirou and Momo had come into your life. You knew it wasn’t fair to lie to him, so you had broken up with poor Shinso and gotten together with your now girlfriends Jirou and Momo, ignoring the constant calls and desperate messages for months. “Hey Shin. How’s it going?” You asked, smiling and acting as nothing had happened. You two could still be friends after two years, right? You were both over each other and with someone else.

“Good. I’ve been working under Aizawa for a year now, I’m going to become a teacher like him.” He grinned calmly as you smiled proudly at him. “That’s so good! I… I’m really proud of you. Last time, you told me you wanted nothing to do with heroes. And now you want to teach the next generation. I’m so happy!” You exclaimed. Shinso was about to speak, before you felt someone hug you from behind quickly. “Y/n!!” You turned around to see your beautiful girlfriends looking at you, Jirou wrapped around you and Momo smiling off on the side. “My god! I missed you so much!” Jirou reached up and kissed you slowly before returning to hug you. “I missed you too.” You looked down at her outfit and rolled your eyes. She was just wearing a black ruffled top and jeans, and not the dress Momo had bought her. She still looked great though, so you choose not to complain.

After many hours of talking among your former classmates, exchanging contact, and talking about your job, you constantly kept on edge, keeping your eye on Aizawa as he walked around, saying hello to every single student and other teacher, Mic staying beside his side for the most part, and Shinso staying near him for some of it. Watching Shinso, you saw him and how he avoided all his classmates. He didn’t make eye contact with the classmates, and refused to talk to anyone really. He had not changed personalities anyway over the past ten years, and you almost felt sorry for him. At least he had gotten a new girlfriend. You couldn’t help but wonder how he was doing mentally. He looked absolutely ripped, but his undereye bags were terrible and his hair was just as messy since high school.

Finally, the main part started, and you began to get prepared. Holding hands with Jirou to your left, and Momo to your right, you felt a sense of blending in with the audience. You made sure to observe the people around you, and keep your thoughts to yourself as you evaluated each and every person. Finally, your main subject, Eraserhead, stepped into the main room. You left your girlfriends and stepped next to Eraserhead, smiling. “May I? Looks like you’re lonely.” You smiled, seeing that Mic was currently busy, operating the lights and speakers as he pleased. He refused to let anyone else do it but him. “Don’t play me Y/n. I know your job, and I know why you’re here.” Your older teacher looked away from you, before you nudged him playfully. “So, is that a no? Or an absolutely yes?” You smiled playfully as he looked back at you and grinned. “You haven’t changed a bit. Good.” He offered you his arm and you grabbed it, making your way to the seats offered for you. Your boss has made sure you had a seat right next to Aizawa. 

Over the next half hour, speeches were made, food was served, and laughs were shared. It was a joyful time, but you couldn’t help but look for Aizawa. He was all over the place, as if he was trying to get away from you. Finally, people began dancing. Getting nervous, you quickly got up and walked towards the teacher. 

“May I have this dance?” You grinned cheekily at him as he turned to you, unamused by your humor. “How about you leave me alone? I don’t need my former student protecting me. It’s my job as a hero to protect you.” He explained, but you just shook your head, stepping closer. “No way Sir. It is my job to protect you, and only you quite literally.” You winked at him, joking again. Finally, you turned your head and gave him your puppy-dog eyes. “How about that dance?” He nodded and grabbed your, smiling as you both began to make your way to the dance floor.

He told you about his recent retirement, and how he and Mic had been spending their recent times in their secret vacation home down South in the islands. You then began telling him about how you had gotten into a relationship with two of your fellow students, and he told you how happy he was for you all. “You girls were always close. I’m so happy, you deserve as many lovers as you desire.” He commented, making you suddenly so happy. “Mic dated two people once in elementary school. He was… such the player.” You both laughed, before Aizawa looked down at his phone. “Speak of the devil.” You noticed that Aizawa had gotten a text from Mic. “Excuse me for a minute.” Aizawa went to walk away towards the hallway, before looking back at you, seeing your worry. “I’ll be fine. Mic is waiting for me on the balcony.”

You nodded, going to sit down when you suddenly saw Mic looking around. “Has anyone seen my phone?” He yelled out, walking around. It took you a minute to realize it, but you quickly jumped up and looked at him. “Where’s Aizawa?!” You asked him loudly, causing some people to look at you strangely. “I… I don’t know, wasn’t he just with you?” Mic asked, looking at you strangely with confusion in his expression. “Oh god. Oh god!” You ran to the door that Aizawa had walked out, before pulling and pushing on it. It was stuck. Looking around, and then at the ceiling, you began to see a light green, almost neon, mist coming out of the sprinklers. “Everyone cover your mouths!” You screamed, bringing your shirt up to your mouth as the mist began to get thicker in the air. People began coughing, and everyone began freaking out. “Y/n?! Y/n!” You looked over to see Jirou and Momo running towards you. Jirou began to have trouble breathing, coughing and such since her shirt was very thin and not useful as a mask. 

“Momo, make an explosion and get everyone out. I’ll need all the back up I can get. Also, tell everyone to get low. This gas rises high and won’t settle on the ground.” You commanded your girlfriend, before Jirou turned to you. “What about you?” She asked, fear and panic in her eyes. “I’m going to go save our teacher.” You smiled, kissed her cheek, and ran off. Using your quirk, you were able to walk through the walls and see that the door has been blocked off by dozens of pieces of heavy furniture, too heavy for you. Finally, you were able to breathe. “Aizawa?!” You screamed, following the sound of slight mumbling through the dozens and dozens of hallways. 

Suddenly, you heard laughing, and turned around, knowing that the villain was right around the corner. You recognized that laugh… “Shinny?” You called out, hearing the laughing stop suddenly. He knew you were there. And you knew he was there. And he knew you knew he was there.

“Shinny? What are you doing?” You asked, eyes wide. With the way you were pretending, you made sure to look sad and betrayed. “Oh Y/n… I’m sorry.” He whispered at you. Looking out, you saw that they were on the balcony, Aizawa about to jump five stories off, but he wasn’t his normal self. Shinso had Aizawa under his control. “Shinso, please don’t do this.” You mumbled, walking towards him. You had to use Shinso’s love for you against him, something you thought you’d never do. “Oh Y/n, I have to. I have to make a name for myself as a villain, and taking out a big-time hero like this will jump-start my career.” He tried to explain, but you just shook his head. “Now, it’s time. Aizawa-” You interrupted Shinso, keeping him from instructing Aizawa to jump. “You knew I’d get out of there. You know my quirk Shinso. You knew I’d get out. Why?” You asked as you kept walking towards him. “I… I want you to join me Y/n. There’s a little bit of me that still wants to become a villain, but I want to do it with you. Please. Join me.” He reached his hand out towards you, and you instantly grabbed it. 

Walking towards him, you kissed him, and felt his hands grab onto your body. You could tell he wanted this, and you regretted what you would have to do next. You overpowered him, using every ounce of strength, and pushed him to the ground. “Hitoshi Shinso, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can and will be used against you in the name of law.” You dragged handcuffs out of your pockets and whipped them around his hands, sitting on top of him as you did so. Before he could speak, you got out a piece of tape and stuck it to his mouth. As Shinso panicked, he lost control, and Aizawa quickly fell back onto the balcony, now fully awake and safe. 

“Y/n… I don’t know what happened, he-” You patted his head, smiling softly at the adult man on the ground who was now shaken up and scared. “It’s fine now Aizawa, he’s not going to hurt a fly again. Right Shinny?” You slapped Shinso against the face very softly and smiled, knowing he was hating every second of this. “T-Thank you. I’m sorry about earlier, you did great, I-” You shushed Aizawa, feeling happy about your mission becoming a success. “Just doing my job. You may even call me your hero.” 

The other students and faculty met up with you, all of them acquiring gas masks made by Momo herself, which she was very proud of. Mic was quick to hug Aizawa, and your girls were quick to hug you. They had been scared, not knowing if you were okay or not while they all struggled to get the door open. Finally, Momo had looked up how to make dynamite, and had blown up the doorway and the surrounding halls. Looking out onto everyone, you began to see everyone’s true nature again. Deku had been crying, Shinso had been keeping Izuku sane, Bakugo had been angry at you for going out on your own, and Kirishima was boasting about how manly you were to anyone who would listen. You only stopped for a second before looking down at the street to see Shinso being taken away in handcuffs. “Well, I’ve got to go. Duty calls.” You smiled at your girls, kissing them and beginning to walk away, hearing hoots, hollers, and farewells at your back.

You didn’t need to say goodbye, because it was not. Aizawa and Mic would send flowers to your office, Denki would want to play video games and catch up as if you were still teenagers, Bakugo and Kirishima would invite the Bakusquad over to grill out, you would see your girlfriends at home that night, Deku and Todoroki would want to have a couples getaway, Mina, Asui and Ochako would want to have a Girls Night out, and Iida… Well you saw Iida on missions a lot anyways, and you two were already heavily close. You were close with the entire class, and you were happy to see that even over 10 years, nothing had really changed about life.

Down at the street, you waved to your fellow cops before getting in the front seat next to your partner, and looking at the back mirror towards Shinso. “So… you’re a cop now?” He asked, watching you nod at his question. “Glad one of us is doing something with their life. Good for you.” He remarked as you looked out the window. In the side mirror, you could see Shinso begin to smile. He really was happy for you, and you knew that when he got out of jail, you’d be there for him to, hopefully to help him find his purpose in life too. Maybe he would find his own version of Momo and Jirou.

[bigskydreaming]

So this is definitely one of my least favorite things to do, because there’s so many people on here that need help, but if anyone has a couple bucks or a five they can spare, that would be an enormous help to me today. 

For those that know my situation, as far as I know, everything is still on track for me to have the lets-pull-all-twenty-eight - of-your-remaining-teeth-at-once-it’ll-be-fun! surgery on Tuesday. I’m reeeeally looking forward to it, and also the Month of Living Without Any Teeth At All while I heal and they figure out the fittings and everything for my bionic teeth or whatever. Everything about it sounds swell. Can’t wait, it’ll be great.

SO. The plan is for me to take the bus out to the desert on Monday afternoon, reenact some of the best scenes from Saw on Tuesday morning while under hopefully heavy sedation, with fingers and toes crossed that these doctors actually listen to me for once about my ridiculous metabolism making most anesthetics wear off super fast. Because. Ugh. Doctors literally never believe me about that which has led to some pretty not cool experiences in the past, but none of those experiences have been yanking out every one of my teeth by the root all in one go, soooooooo, if ever there was a time for them to think maybe I actually know what I’m talking about and make adjustments for that, I’m pretty sure I want this to be that time. 

Thanks to my keen intuition, I have predicted that this whole process is something I probably want to be deeply unconscious for, and during, and tbh, maybe a week or so after that too. But like, I’ll mostly settle for just not waking up when they’re only actually on tooth eight, you know?

If I seem like I’m babbling cuz I’m nervous, its probably cuz I’m babbling cuz I’m nervous. I’m so not kidding about unpleasant experiences with anesthetics in the past, so while this wasn’t actually my reason for making this post, while I’m thinking about it, if anyone wants to also maybe shoot a quick prayer-tweet over to whomever you might personally @ with that kind of thing, I would be super grateful for anything of that nature, like something along the lines of “Dear Merciful Higher Power/Universe/etc, if there’s any way you could see to it that Kalen spends most of Tuesday knocked the fuck out, that would be awesome, thanks!”

Its just, I’m kinda over being in excruciating pain all day every day, like, I gave it a shot, just don’t think its for me, I’m afraid I just don’t have what it takes to be a hardcore raging masochist or whatever, so I’m just really not looking to set any new personal pain records next week if at all possible.

ANYWAY, requests for spamming higher powers on my behalf aside, the other reason for this post is I only have $3 in my bank account and an appointment this afternoon whose co-pay is going to be $50. But I can NOT miss this appointment, its super critical. See, so, the other thing is, my jaw has decided its reached the point where it just doesn’t want to close at all anymore, so I’ve gone from only eating once a day to only eating no times a day, and since I’ve already lost an absurd amount of weight and muscle mass over the last two years because of all this shit, they’ve put me on a regimen of regular IV intakes or whatever that’s called, just to like....get the nutrients I need into me somehow, y’know?  

And especially with the surgery coming up on Tuesday, and my immune system all shot to hell and my various other Vitally Important By-Products of Eating Food levels are low enough to have my doctor using mostly just four letter words when reviewing my latest labs, they’re literally trying to pump me full of as much of the various Nutrients And Other Stuff IVs as they safely can between now and then. And as much as I’ve been pretty much going 24/7 trying to stay afloat with all of this, I just...did NOT budget for needing to be hooked up to an IV every other day because my fucking jaw picked now to level up on being an asshole and like, physically will not cooperate with my attempts to survive on cheap $5 a day meals. 

So instead this week its been $50 co-pays every other day, because apparently when your body for whatever reason literally can’t take in the cheap 7-11 snacks and Happy Meals you usually live off of because That’s How Being Poor Works, it makes total sense that the one and only alternative for keeping your body fueled is to go to this little clinic place that hooks you up like you’re at a gas station, except you’re some kinda pretentious European model that won’t accept any less than the top dollar diesel, because I guess even Bags of Nutrient Water gotta somehow manage to be name brand shit, because yay capitalism. Everything about it is just so efficient and logical and works so well, especially if you’re part of the 99%.

Anyway I’m TRULY sorry I’m all over the place with this, I haven’t taken my ADHD meds because swallowing is the Devil’s Work right now, and also I haven’t had my daily Bag of Nutrient Water yet so my brain is like no I will not be cooperating. To sum up, once I get to next week I’m all set, everything’s in place for the surgery, insurance, I have a place to recuperate, I even already have my bus ticket for Monday purchased, my specific monetary issue right now is I am literally down to my last $3, I am currently physically unable to chew my way through a full meal, so I’m literally just paying co-pays of $50 every other day to spend 45 minutes sitting in a chair while my body sucks life-sustaining nutrient water through a needle. 

That might actually be the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever said or heard said and yet its factually 100% true. Our world is so fucking bonkers, jfc.

Literally ANY help getting me to today’s appointment, would be amazing, and then I have one scheduled for Monday morning before I leave, if I can find a way to make that too. And tbh I don’t actually know if one is even an option for tomorrow yet because the clinic I’ve been going to so far isn’t open tomorrow and I’ve yet to hear back if my doctor found somewhere else to send me that I can actually get to. So who the fuck even knows.

So yeah, sorry for making you ping-pong your way through that mess, this is my brain on Empty, like I said, I haven’t had my Bag of Water yet today. But any help is appreciated, whether reblogs, donations or good-thought-tweets for me on Tuesday. I’m a big fan of any of the above. Even $2 or $5 gets me closer to what I need, and if you can’t spare anything or have already sent or are sending what you can spare to another donation post, I totally and completely understand. And again, even just....good thoughts for Tuesday would be awesome, and certainly can’t hurt. I’m not like, worried about the surgery or whatever, its pretty simple, its more just....extensive. And my only real hope or want for it is just keeping the Ow factor as limited as it can possibly be. Whether that’s from the doctors coming through with a good strong hit of the goofy juice or some higher power telling all my nerve endings to take a sick day or just sit this one out, I am so open to either or anything in between or even coming out of left field.

And now I’m done. Thank you. You’re all rockstars, or insert your genre of choice. In conclusion, capitalism sucks, eat the rich, and buy a  bi a bag of water today please. I’m pretty sure there’s a T-shirt slogan in there somewhere, but fuck if I can pin it down.If anyone else does, hey, go nuts with it. I’m literally a bi guy who needs to buy bags of nutrient water every other day right now. That’s so fucking dumb, someone’s gotta be able to milk some mileage out of it.

My Paypal:

https://paypal.me/bigskydreaming?locale.x=en_US

Or if that link doesn’t work, try this one instead:

https://www.paypal.com/paypalme2/bigskydreaming?locale.x=en_US

My Ko-fi page: https://ko-fi.com/kalenp

[sapphiircflame-a]

☆

Assuming this is a meme for a fact about me - unless there’s some other meaning of “ooc” that I need to know about, Ha ha. ( what else would it be, moron- ) To avoid sounding like a broken record! I’ll state something that’s not known by many, As well as possibly two or three facts about me... I like to do things more than once, Obviously.

Fact #1. I’m terrible at math. Honestly - even basic multiplication misses my head! despite me being 18 and capable of spending my own money, It takes much longer for me to count it - as I typically need help doing the simplest of tasks to figure out just how much I have on me... it’s embarrassing.

Fact #2. I have ADHD. Yes, It’s true! I was diagnosed with ADHD as well as emotional instability when I was born. I also have anxiety, Possible depression, And maybe PTSD from the way I experienced life in my upbringing! ha.. sad birb. Not sure if that means that I’m bipolar or just a ping pong ball trapped in a glass of pissed off liquid nitrogen. Who knows! either way, I’m a goofball one day, And a mix between pissed and depressed the next... back and forth, Back and forth... wait, Would that be more along the lines of tennis? nah.. I like the sound of a ping pong ball better. ( the emotional part was due to me being born in distress - but that’s another story for another day... lemme know if you want to hear that one. It’s a doozy. )

Fact #3. I draw most of my inspiration from games and songs. Yep! you read that right. Most of my ideas for what to approach a thread with is typically because of what I’ve played or listened to during the writing or even before! I find it’s much easier for me to focus on it that way, As the idea doesn’t skip my mind at that point if the song / boss fight is still fresh in my mind. That’s typically why it takes me so long to get to a response or a starter... as well as the occasional writers block followed by spurts of laziness throughout the day... ha.. I’m a mess.

BONUS #4! I animate, Stream, And draw! I’m not good at all 3 yet, But if I stream something like Dark Souls ( only thing I can stream right now with my internet. ) then... you’ll see what I mean with fact #2.

Send me a ★ for an IC fact or send me a ☆ for an OOC fact. - ACCEPTING.

[twilightofthe]

A screenshot of two comments

@gffa commented: *chinhands* Tell me about your descent into Tolkien hell. :D

@nerdgatehobbit commented: Seconding the request for more on your thoughts on Tolkien elves, if you don’t mind!

Ajdhskdhdk okay, but I know y’all both know way more than me so my apologies if I get something wrong!

So like, a preface that I’ve tried to read the Silmarillion itself like three times and have never been able to get into the text itself cuz like, just the over formality reminds me too much of the history sources I had to read in school and my adhd brain goes NOPE. I did find the fan-made abridged version of it on AO3 which is much easier to understand, though I know that one’s not perfect.

But I hunted down the basis of the tale of Beren and Luthien a while ago after reading about it a bunch in LotR/Hobbit fanfic and really liked the story, PLUS I will forever be ecstatic upon finding out the knowledge that Sauron The Giant Flaming Evil Eyeball used to be like, really really attractive, like this pleases me immensely that he had a tumblr sexyman phase. I had also gleaned enough from Tumblr and the general internet that The Big Conflict(TM) in the Silm was basically like, everyone murdering each other over shiny rocks.

But yeah I never really dove deeper than that until a few months ago I had a LotR movie night with a friend of mine and his roommate— a massive Tolkien fan, and I made a comment on the Elvish being spoken and this bitch Well Actuallyed me like “it’s not Elvish, it’s Sindarin,” and I get contrary like “ok but really what’s the difference”. He stops the film. “wait fuck can I explain it’s actually kinda wild” Uh oh, thinks my friend, probably

The following convo basically consists of:

Roommate explaining to me the best he can that there isn’t just one elvish language, elves don’t just speak Sindarin, they also speak Quenya, or at least they used to but they don’t anymore

him further explaining how one is the new country language and one is the old country language except not exactly because the so called “new” country was actually the old old country, various circumstances just meant that the elves would periodically ping pong in herds back and forth across the ocean throughout the millennia until they eventually settled for the most part

And during this explanation he tried to talk about the two elf kings most well associated with the usage of each language, and why subsequently Quenya got nixed in Middle Earth, but then he had to stop himself and be like “waaaaaait hang on you’re gonna need the full context if I’m going to be explaining anything involving Thingol or Feanor.”

So he goes back and gives the EXTRME ABRIDGED verbal explanation from the very beginning of the Silm and how the Silmarils were made and exactly why everyone was going back and forth across the sea those first couple of times

let me say that this story being told verbally is like, ten times funnier and more entertaining than any other way I��ve interacted with it, which honestly makes sense as it’s styled kinda like the Bible

I remember at one point I was like “okay so basically the Silmarils are kinda like NFTs” “what. no.” “Why not? Like, owning them is questionable because everyone makes their claim on them off of not money and they’re all sure that they’re the ONLY one who should have them, and they’re sure as hell bad for the environment because everyone keeps destroying the continent in wars to get them”

“You are VERY wrong in many ways but firstly the Silmarils aren’t NFTs because they’re supposed to be the most beautiful thing created. NFTs are shitty cartoons of a smoking lion made on MS Paint.” “Okay fine, I can’t fault you there. But some of these elves sound like they’d be cryptobros, just saying—” “clary oh my god”

We never did end up finishing Two Towers lmao. Thankfully, my friend found this conversation entertaining and did not mind us derailing his evening xD

So I finished the night with a new awareness in Tolkienish linguistics, plus a desire to learn more. So, while I still admit I’ve never made it through the source material, I am VERY good at participating in fandom through solely secondary sources. I went on a Tolkien Wiki deep dive. I started reading a bunch of Silm fic. I rummaged through people’s blogs on Tumblr like a raccoon.

After all of this, I can now say:

I have heightened knowledge that the REAL Big Conflict in the Silm is a combo of God creating the world without creating lawyers or property right laws, and pretty much everyone in the story ALWAYS choosing wrong whenever they had the choice of “is this a case where I enable my family member or shut them down”

Subsequently; a bit part of why I love this drama epic is because it is another PERFECT example of this post of mine

Oh my gosh I have so many new characters I love, these folks are all wild and have zero chill and they’re endlessly entertaining

Beren and Luthien is still my favorite story in it lol, it’s even better when you have most of the full context, like Luthien’s an absolute badass and goals and also how the fuck did I miss the first time around that Sauron has a fuckign wolfsona like BITCH OH MY GOD

As much as my heart will always belong to the hobbits though, especially Frodo and Pippin, I think Elrond has moved up to be like, one of my all time fave Tolkien characters, like,,,,,,,, *flail-gestures at his entire life story* D U D E

Speaking of hobbits though, like, there are so many characters here who I just want to interact with a hobbit

Like yea ik a large part of why they don’t really show up in the Silm is so Sauron can have his “what the fuck are you, some kinda oversized woodchuck” moments in LotR

But like, all these elves and men are just such absolute Drama Llamas and while hobbits are dramatic too, I can just see their interactions being like “yes I quite agree your relative is being Atrociously Rude, I can relate, but why don’t you eat a fresh-baked blueberry scone and maybe you’ll calm down and we can think about how best to proceed”

Oh my God mister Tolkien sir, those are too many names, i beg you, put some names back please xD No really, like every character has like ten million names and they all sound EXACTLY like twenty other characters’ names, and trying to remember who is who and who did what is a nightmare and I STILL sometimes make hilarious mistakes between very different characters whose names sound near identical

Okay so the different kinds of elves are still kinda confusing, but I’ve managed to mentally sort them as: the Big Three groups who made the overseas journeys, being the Bougie Elves, the Noisy Elves, and the Hippie Elves, plus the mixed bag of miscellaneous groups left over who I cannot tell apart for the life of me. I still don’t know what the hell Legolas is

Makes me look back at LotR/Hobbit very differently now! Like it seemed like Galadriel was in a total league of her own, power-wise, by the 3rd/4th age (as she deserves). My question is if Peter Jackson took artistic liberties to make her THAT powerful, or if he didn’t, was she always like that much cooler than the rest of her family, or were all the 1st age elves Like That, and if they WERE, well that explains quite a bit how they were able to absolutely fuckin’ wreck all the shit they did

Now look I’m fully aware that Amazon’s 2nd age Middle Earth show is probably gonna feature a majority of OCs and original storylines for them to play with in Tolkien’s sandbox without touching any of his castles, but like. If they don’t at least hint at Sauron’s devil worshipping death cult he started up I’m going to be very disappointed.

Really the fandom just seems like, fun, now a part of me probs is always gonna feel not smart enough to take part in it, but it’s so creative there! I really love the gorgeous fic and art they make and it’s really nice to know so much more of the mythos! Though I doubt I’ll be anywhere close to an expert!

So yeah that’s where I’m at rn in Tolkien hell! I hope my rambling at y’all made sense and if you have any recs on fanworks I should look into or just wanna chat about it, im so down!!!!

I remember a while back someone sent me an ask about something related to Mando Opinions and I answered them by saying my knowledge on it was kinda like my knowledge on Tolkien Elves, like I knew they had a whole other side of the fandom full of lore and information, but it was way too big for me to get into

Now that I’ve actually decently gotten into more Tolkien works beyond lotr and hobbit, I must retract that statement cuz like, no offense but the bloody dramatic history of elves is like 10x more interesting than Mando stuff xD

[euro3plast-fr]

How the iPhone changed marketing forever

Happy birthday iPhone

120 months go on the 29th June at 09.41am (California time) the world changed forever.  Six months after being introduced at the Macworld Convention by Steve Jobs, the $499, 4GB storage iPhone was finally in stores.

Since then, over a billion iPhones have been sold globally. In 2007 Apple had $6bn in cash. Today the company’s accounts are reportedly in the final stretch to being valued at $1trillion.

But things could have turned out very differently. Back when the iPhone wasn’t even a glint in Steve Jobs’ eyes, telecoms giants like Verizon held a tight grip over the specification of handsets.  Weighty manuals read like a bible of ‘thou shall nots’. Such restrictions went against everything Jobs believed in.  It certainly wasn’t a sector that he wanted to get into.

Some three years before the iPhone said ‘hello’. A team of Apple engineers were fiddling about with touchscreen technology on an interactive surface that was the size of a ping-pong table.  They didn’t have a clue their ping-pong rig would eventually help redefine everything people understood about Alexander Graham Bell’s invention.

The engineers showed the technology to Apple’s Design Chief, Jonathan Ive. Recognizing its potential, he presented it to Jobs.  Initially, the boss wasn’t that smitten.  But eventually, commercial circumstances helped nurture the idea until touchscreen technology wizardry grew on him. At the time, the iPod was Apple’s lead product.  Yet, Jobs realized that its days of serving as a cash-cow were numbered.  He worried that other companies could start working on a mobile phone able to play music – leaving the iPod redundant and takings thwarted.

Apple’s brightest engineers set to work on figuring out how to miniaturize the touchscreen technology, as well as develop an operating system and… fit everything into a neat device.  The project was code-named ‘purple’.  Engineers worked 24/7 in a sectioned-off part of Apple HQ named the ‘purple dorm’. (It was said that engineers were bringing in takeaway food and sleeping wherever they could lay their heads, the atmosphere in the purple dorm was more like a purple haze).

One of their fundamental tasks was to figure out how to incorporate a touchscreen keyboard.  Numerous iterations were considered.  Complicated shape swiping was dismissed as simply too difficult to learn.  Eventually, one engineer combined AI (Artificial Intelligence) with a standard keyboard layout which predicted words. It was one of what would turn out to be many ‘eureka moments’.

Every aspect of project purple was unremitting. Demands were intense. Hundreds of engineers sacrificed weekends, holidays and, in at least one reported case, a marriage.  When the patent for the original device was eventually awarded only 14 people were listed as designers.  But, in truth, as with so many breakthroughs, delivering the iPhone called on the cooperation of many more who remained behind the scenes. 

The iPhone that almost wasn’t

The name iPhone did not originally belong to Apple. Infogear used it in 1998. Their Linksys iPhone appliance combined a standard phone with a web terminal.  In 2000 Cisco Systems took over Infogear. The company rebranded the appliance, Linksys VoIP.  Apple’s own branding of the iPhone led to a conflict with Cisco Systems – which was eventually resolved.

Apple’s iPhone wasn't the first handset to include iTunes. The Motorola ROKR beat them to it in 2005.  But following Apple releasing the iPod Nano, Ed Zander, Motorola’s CEO relented asking,

“What the hell does the Nano do?  Who listens to 1,000 songs? People want devices that do more than just play music. Something that can be seen in many other countries with more advanced mobile phone networks and savvy users.”

[Ooops...]

Motorola’s second-generation ROKR left out iTunes support. 

“A widescreen iPod with touch controls, a revolutionary mobile phone and a breakthrough internet communications device.      (Steve Jobs’ original description of the iPhone).

Apple also had to tackle the business community’s addiction to Blackberries.  (Also known at the time as the ‘crackberry’).  Sales Warriors loved the device’s keyboard.  Apple’s solution was to first market to consumers and then gradually win over the business sector by making iPhone much more than an individual’s phone.

Whilst the original iPhone had no third-party apps, GPS or even a means to record video, with each new model, the device gradually led to the demise of having to carry around lots of devices. Its all-in-one technology made serious dents in the sales of compasses, stopwatches, calculators, diaries, maps, voice recorders, answering machines, portable games consoles, newspapers, alarm clocks, point-and-shoot cameras, GPS units, camcorders, PDAs and even Apple’s own iPod.

One year after its debut, the introduction of the App Store led to 2,200,000 apps featured as instant downloads.  (According to app measurement company App Annie, Google Play Store currently carries 3,400,000 apps).

For now, more Android system devices have a far bigger market share than IOS, but thanks to clever marketing and luxury pricing, IOS sales are still very comfortable. By 2018, Apple is expected to sell 241 million phones, compared with Samsung’s 404 million. (Canaccord Genuity).

In 2016 the risk of Samsung Galaxy Note catching fire, halted a serious escalating threat to iPhone sales.  New phones from the likes of Huawei, Sony and OnePlus with even more sophisticated features than currently offered by Apple could yet damage sales.

Whilst many celebrate iPhone’s tenth birthday, they also await its 16th iteration, to be finally officially revealed in the Fall.  Only after then will Apple’s CEO Tim Cook finally know whether all the fuss over blowing out birthday candles turns out to be little more than hot air.

How iPhones helped change more than you thought…

Everyone is always on

Once upon a time... in an age long, long, long, ago you could wait up to ten minutes to get onto the web. Now everyone is connected instantly either via Wif-Fi or cellular networks.

Chewing gum

People are so transfixed to their phones that traditional last moment point of sales purchases at checkouts like chewing gum have declined by 15% since 2007. 

Accessories

The ‘sweet and sour’ of everyone’s mobile lives - accessories - including Bluetooth speakers, headphones, cables and docks are ubiquitous.  ABI research estimates that revenue in the global mobile accessories market will top $110bn by 2021. 

Media

More people are watching TV and getting their news via mobile phones than ever.

Vanity

According to tech futurologist Benedict Evans, there will be more photographs taken this year alone on devices like iPhones than during the entire history of photography.

In 2017, following an analysis of 2.5 million selfies on Instagram, researchers discovered that more than half fell into the 'appearance category' – images that describes the person's outward status and wealth. (The selfie movement is mostly driven by women and the 18 to 35-year-old age group).

Broadcasting lives in real-time around the globe.

Thanks to video conferencing software as well as services like Periscope and Facebook Live, potentially more than half the world’s population can become ‘live tv’ broadcasters, sharing everything from local brawls to cute pet moments.

Games

Seven of the top ten grossing iPhone apps are games.

Instant gratification

No – not porn via mobiles - although that particular sector has also ‘erupted’.  Instead I refer to paying via phone.  The iPhone Wallet app stores credit card payment facilities for touch and pay purchases as well as retains retail coupons, reward cards, cinema passes, flight board tickets and much more. (Speaking at a 2016 event, Apple’s CEO, Tim Cook said: “We’re going to kill cash”).

Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder

ADHD has soared.  Attention spans, especially for children, have plunged. In addition to school teachers feeling despair as they try just about anything to retain students’ attention, the dramatic fall in attention spans has also fundamentally changed communications as practiced by virtually all business sectors including news media, entertainment, recruitment, professional training, journalism, marketing and advertisers.

Privacy

The psychology of reciprocity has gone into overdrive as brands lure consumers into revealing more and more of their private information in return for incentives like free taxi rides and retail discounts.

from Blog – Smart Insights http://www.smartinsights.com/mobile-marketing/iphone-changed-marketing-forever/