#vyvanse posting

[vaporize-employers]

really tired of seeing the idea that women & girls are less likely to be diagnosed with autism because it "presents differently" so widely accepted even in progressive spaces

it is also widely accepted that women get raises less often because they don't ask as much as men. this is objectively not true.

it is also widely accepted that women are more talkative than men. this is objectively not true.

it is also widely accepted that women are taken less seriously when speaking because their speech patterns are associated with a "lack of confidence". this is objectively not true. [1][2][3]

every time we talk about gender discrimination, people look for an explanation that starts with women's behavior.

and every fucking time, actual research shows that across the board, women actually don't behave that differently from men.

women aren't diagnosed less often with autism due to "presenting differently". it's gendered medical neglect, and weaponized diagnoses disproportionately applied to women (e.g. BPD, HPD, bipolar, etc.)

[eruptedinlight]

do you have a moment to talk about my lord and savior

[beansprean]

I think one of the nice things about wwdits is that almost every main cast member is packing incredible tit. Just some serious honkers. dohoonkabhankoloos, etc

[neuroticboyfriend]

caffeine good

[oysters-aint-for-me]

remember: if voting did nothing, then republicans wouldn’t try so hard to stop people from voting!

[st5lker]

like guys i understand that people use the spectre of porn addiction to imply the very existence of porn or human sexuality is evil. i understand that. but you cannot seriously start going around claiming porn addiction doesnt exist because of course it does. why wouldn’t it? gambling addictions exist shopping addictions exist FOOD addictions exist and thats something you need to survive! why would it not be possible to become addicted to porn?? like lets use our brains for a second here, porn is something that gives dopamine steadily while watching it, its used as a form of escapism because it’s designed to fulfill unrealized/impossible fantasies (meaning often you’ll watch it during a period of low dopamine), and an orgasm is literally an instant rush of dopamine and adrenaline that you can immediately and tangibly feel unlike a gradual one that’s hard to notice (the same thing that makes shopping or gambling etc addictive, because you instantly feel the dopamine and adrenaline the moment you spend money).

like (besides the fact that some people don’t know that addiction comes in different forms and think all “addiction” is like a heroin dependency) i honestly think a lot of people are terrified of admitting porn addiction exists because as a society we view sex as immoral and addiction as a failure but the truth is this is just how our brains are built. lots of people, especially those with testosterone dominant bodies, have dealt with some form of either porn or sex/masturbation addiction at some point of their life. its not a moral failing and shouldn’t be treated like one; the reason TERFs and conservatives love to use porn addiction to paint all human sexuality with a broad brush of “coomer” is because they’re playing right in to those societal stigmas about sex and addiction. if you don’t want to be like them, don’t be like them! acknowledge porn addiction exists because you acknowledge that it’s not inherently some kind of moral failing. acknowledge that minor forms of porn addiction can exist and be relatively harmless, because if you don’t those minor forms will go unnoticed and unchecked until they spiral into an addiction that DOES harm yourself or those around you.

[neonvqmpire]

aziraphale takes crowleys hand and they just stare at each other, stroking each others hand like it's their only lifeline, afraid to do anything more unless their future is safe.

they promise each other that once this is all over they will be an "us", they will be together, away from heaven and hell's torments. they promise each other that once this is all over they will talk. about everything. but for now all they have is this short moment, before aziraphale gets called back to heaven to initiate the second coming and crowley is in his on his way to stop it.

for the first time in months there was a spark in crowley's eyes. he finally understood why his angel went back to heaven: not to try to fix a broken system but to burn it from the inside out. he knew what they had to do he realised that aziraphale doesn't need saving anymore. his brave angel deciding to go against the one force in his life that he looked up to and obeyed to, because he knew that it was the right thing to do, no matter what it might cost him. perhaps crowley was the one that needed to be saved this time.

he intertwined his fingers with aziraphale's, not turning his gaze away from his eyes. he squeezed them tightly, then slowly let go and stood up. once his back was turned to aziraphale, he allowed the tears to fall. he closed the door behind him and started to let out a sobbing sound. he wiped his tears away and slid down to sit on the floor with his back to the door. then he heard a faint bump from the inside followed by a choked out sob. he could feel his angel sitting on the other side of the door.

crowley suddenly felt something appear in his pocket. he took out a golden pocket watch, which he realised belonged to aziraphale. he turned it over and spotted a little piece of paper attached to it. he unfolded it:

i am not allowed to keep it in heaven. take it as a promise for the time i will give to you once this is all over. you should know that there is nothing in the universe which i desire more deeply that to spend the rest of my existence together with you like this my dear."

tears started forming in his eyes again. he stroked the paper and then held the watch close to his heart. he made out aziraphale's sweet homely scent, still unbothered by heaven's stale smell.

"thank you", crowley whispered quietly.

he took a deep breath and smiled as he felt the energy on the other side of the door slowly fade. he was alone on earth again.

[not-poignant]

omg i have been having issues getting my vyvanse too (germany) i did not expect this to be a global issue 😂😂 but good to know.

*shakes hands in we all miss our meds and this sucks and the last 6 months has not been great for productivity*

[sorryiwasasleep]

 “He’s my Uncle!” Miles couldn’t believe he’d said it.

Peter couldn’t believe he’d said it.

Neither could his parents.

Which, uhhh, was a problem since Peter was stuck living in this dimension for the time being and Miles would really like for him to be able to be his mentor still.

Peter lies through his teeth. “I’m Aaron’s husband!”

And keeps lying.

Which would be fine because the only other person in this secret marriage was dead, except for the small issue that that wasn’t exactly true.

And now they’ve got a bit of a situation.

Based on this thread: https://www.tumblr.com/christchex/186966460170/dracophile-teapotsahoy

[venerablegreatking]

That Time I Realized Exactly What Executive Dysfunction Was With Instructions On How To Write An Effective Conclusion For Your Next English Comp Essay On The Side

I thought I knew what executive dysfunction was.

I knew it meant having trouble starting and finishing projects. I didn't think I had executive dysfunction, even when the signs were right there, and here's why.

I thought that when executive dysfunction stopped you from starting projects, it meant you avoided starting them. In my case, though, it didn't. When I had to write essays in college and high school, back when I was unmedicated, I would wait until I was in a good mood and had ample free time to start my work. I would open up a blank word document and start by putting my name, the teacher's name, the course name, and the date, as is standard MLA format. I would put a placeholder for the title, as those are easier to form after writing the essay, and then I added my page numbers. And then, I would stare at the blank word document for 10 minutes, trying to think of something to write; it mattered not what I did, for I just could not bring myself to start writing. So I would put it off until the due date, when the pressure of failing would force me to write.

This is executive dysfunction. I could prepare to start as much and as long as I wanted, but I could never actually start. I thought that my preparation to start my essay to-be counted as starting. It did not. And, until yesterday, when I was actually able to start my work within seconds of finishing my preparations, I never realized I had executive dysfunction.

After I started my essays, I would build a brilliant introduction and background to my topic, as well a strong body overflowing with in-text citations, topic sentences, and effective argument techniques; everything a perfect essay could ever need. But when it came time for a conclusion, I was stumped. I knew that the average conclusion was supposed to include a rewrite of the thesis statement and a recapping of all the plot points, but I could never truly "wrap it up." I could restate my prior points perfectly, and I could do a fairly decent job connecting them, granted my brain was able to focus that day. They were strong points, but my conclusions were never strong enough. In my conclusion, after restating the thesis and recapping/connecting my body points, I was once again stuck.

The best essay I ever wrote was when I was in high school taking English Comp I. My conclusions were always my biggest weak point, and my teacher noticed. On my third and second to last essay, she reached out to me. She helped me recap and connect my body points, and, afterwards, she gave me some advice.

To truly "wrap up" an essay, you have to...

I don't remember. I don't remember what she said to me, but my conclusion came out perfect.

My essay was about Grey wolves, and how they were stupidly taken off the Endangered Species Act by one well-known, mentally unstable, walking orange with too much power. I talked about how they were low in numbers, how they were especially vulnerable during their proposed hunting season, and... I talked about the stigma. The stigma that reaches all the way back to Columbus' time, when wolves were an inconvenience for the settlers, preying upon livestock confined to their pastures. The stigma that made them out to be demons, fiends that would run about in the night and cause nothing but mischief and mayhem. The stigma that made killing them off a noble enough task to warrant a bounty. The stigma that made them so vulnerable, so weak, and so, so scarce.

They say that history is always written by the winners, and, in the case of the Grey wolf, this statement could never be more true.

Bringing this back up is making me pretty salty isn't it? But I digress.

I wrapped up my essay perfectly, and here, my dear tumblrinas, is a paraphrasing of my parting words:

"As long as the stigma surrounding Grey wolves persists, they will always remain endangered. They became endangered the minute the pilgrims stepped off their boat."

That. That is what a conclusion is supposed to look like. After connecting my ideas to my thesis and to each other, I just did not know what to do. But that, that up there, that is what you are supposed to do. You are supposed to re-assert yourself. You mention your opinion only twice. Once in your introduction, and once in your conclusion. You put the idea out there, right at the very beginning, so that it sits there in the back of your reader's mind for the rest of the essay. And in your body paragraphs, you give the facts. The ones that support your thinking, but also the ones that do not. You compare and contrast the viewpoints, where they converge, where they diverge, and where they end up. And, if your topic is important enough to the right people, you will find a happy medium. A compromise, so that both your concerns and your opposer's concerns can be addressed. Can be acknowledged. Can be put to bed.

And then, once you have stated your case and laid the facts bare and unbiased in front of your reader, you clean them up. You pick up the papers that have scattered out of your case file, and put them back in order. You re-organize them, shuffle then neatly back into place, close them back up in your folder, and place that folder down with all of the care and gentleness you would a newborn babe. You give your reader a little recap, to make sure they are still with you, and to make sure they understand how these points all tie together flawlessly in support of your argument.

And then,

You drop that gentleness. You look your reader in the eye and assert yourself once more. After finishing up with the main meat of your argument, you are sure to have some leftover passions coiled within you. Righteous anger, bubbling up from within the pit of your stomach. A fire behind your eyes; a fire that can only be quenched by the tears of those who have wronged; those who have wronged this extraordinary planet and all creatures that walk upon it.

Yes I am still angry about the wolves, and yes this is still about my executive dysfunction, just hang in there, okay?

You take that anger, that fire, that righteous fury set on making your voice known, on protecting the things you hold dear and sacred to you that could not be protected otherwise, and finally, you assert your opinion. You drop that professional, unbiased courtesy that you've been forced to uphold, to display. You've stated your opinion, and you've stated your reasoning, and now,

now,

you "wake them up."

They have been reading your essay this whole time, picking it apart bit by bit and analyzing it. Analyzing you, the writer. And now that you are in their sights, now that you can finally be yourself, in all of your beautiful, biased glory...

You slap them.

Hard.

Right across the face, point blank.

You take your words, your weapon, carefully crafted for this very purpose, and you bludgeon them over the head with it as hard as you possibly can, and then some.

You have shown them all the rawest, deepest parts of yourself. You have cut out your heart, and displayed all that is written upon it. You hold it before their very eyes, and force them to take in every last inch of it. And they do.

You've taken what matters most to you, and you've put it on display for the world to see. You make it personal. And you make them care.

You make them care about it just as much as you do.

And, if that fails, at least you've made an impression. You've brought it to their attention. You've planted it, like a seed, in the back of their mind.

And that is what I had been struggling with. Over all those years; those countless years of essays that would always fall short of "good enough" in my eyes.

All because of my executive dysfunction.

And now,

now that all the essays have been submitted, and the assignments no longer handed out, and my words no longer requested, no longer being asked to be heard, do I finally realize what it means to truly start and end an essay.

An assignment.

A task.

A chore.

A hobby.

I really don't know why I am writing this. I guess that, after finally being able to think clearly after all those years, all the thoughts I've ever had, regardless of how fleeting, or half-baked, or pointless they are, deserve to leave. To live on, be it through my words, my actions, my pointless musings (much like this one), or through my love for creation.

I hope you are doing well, and I hope that you were able get a general gist of what I was saying. I have gone full on "essay-mode."

And guess what? I sat down, pulled up my phone, began a new post,

and,

I started it.

And then I ended it.

All at the same time, in the same sitting.

This was originally supposed to be a rant about me realizing I had executive dysfunction and explaining my experiences with it, but it's turned into something very, very different.

If you identify with anything I said above about struggling to start and finish assignments because your brain is leaving you on "Read" 24/7, maybe talk to someone about it.

I just wanted to get this all out here so that other people don't have to realize the hard way, like I did, that their brain has been effectively ignoring them their entire teenage/young adult life.

Oh, and also I guess it serves as like, tips and instructions on how to write an effective conclusion. For essays, arguments, debates, maybe even everyday conversations. It's just good advice in general when trying to communicate a thought effectuvely I guess.

Anyways,

I have been sitting in the same exact place on the same exact sofa for 2 whole hours typing this out and now my hand circulation is bad, and they're all cold and clammy and gross, and my mouth is dry becuase I've only had like maybe 5 sips of water max in the past 12+ hours, and I have yet to eat my lunch.

So I must now bid you adieu

[vaporize-employers]

Simpering "anti-Zionist" liberal: Yes of course what's happening is terrible but what's the alternative? What would replace Israel? No one has a real plan

Anti-Zionists: Get rid of the apartheid ethnostate of Israel and establish a single egalitarian, secular state.

Liberal: You can't just get rid of Israel. What about Israelis? Where would they go? Unfortunately, no one has a good answer to this

Anti-Zionists: A government is not the people who live within its borders. If it were, "Israel" would never have existed. Ex-Israelis wouldn't have to "go" anywhere; they would simply have to return any illegal gains they've received at the expense of Palestinians and adjust to living in an egalitarian, secular state.

Liberal: But what would a free Palestine look like? You can't just demand a free state if you (the colonized) can't explain (to colonizers) what you're asking for. It's just so damn complicated...

Anti-Zionists: Return any illegally seized property and land that belongs to Palestinians and begin to make economic and social reparations for that which was systemically destroyed during the genocide. In other words, give it the fuck back

Liberal: But how can Palestinians possibly live alongside Israelis, after everything that's happened? No one has an answer to this question

Anti-Zionists: A one-state solution has been proposed and rejected by Israel over and over again for decades. Hamas, which is further to the right than many leftist alternatives Israel deliberately sabotaged, has stated that their goal is to liberate Palestine, not any kind of "counter-ethnocide" as you are implying.

Nor has a "counter-ethnocide" occurred in the many other historical cases where a colonizing force was forced to withdraw, no matter how much white South Africans may try to claim otherwise.

There is no evidence whatsoever that Palestinians would become the oppressors if ex-Israelis lived alongside Palestinians – only racist postulations from bad faith interlocutors like yourself.

Liberal, putting on soundproof headphones: Unfortunately nobody has an answer to this

[crinbyignby]

Sometimes when I can’t focus I listen to five nights at Freddy’s fan songs. I don’t know why but it makes me lock in

[chelseahotel2004]

btw for those of you who listened to inopia and enjoyed it i have a fun surprise for you hee hee... this is the original demo track for inopia which has a much more jazz feel. in fact the working title before it was named after the album was 'jazz song' lol. this is a secret okay shhhhh don't tell sam im spreading his demo tapes

[thatautisticemo]

things i can do now that i couldn't do last time i was in school (several years ago), that i can do now. in no particular order:

take notes. holy shit ??? yall were not kidding that it helps so much?? i go to do my homework and i'm like oh my god i wrote that in my notes?!?!? FUCK ME yall were lucky little shits being able to do that at age 11

my fucking homework??? oh my god i can sit down and do my homework and then in the morning it's DONE?!?! like for real?!?!? I put things in the "to-do" folder and i take them home and do them??? and then i put them in the "turn-in" folder and they're in there when i need to turn them in?!?!?!? GROUNDBREAKING

use folders,., the way i was shown when i was 8.... one side is TO DO. one side is DONE. and if you put every piece of paper in that folder where it belongs.,, it's easy to see what you need to do and you dont lose your homework..... holy fuck

checklists... assignments i need to get done, things i need to bring to school,, finally i can make effective lists. yall do this mentally????? ?!?! top tier skill 11/10

and of course some smaller things that help:

alarm clocks. found one that doesnt make me feel like i've been shaken awake by the world's meanest muppet. turns out waking up to music i enjoy makes me feel so much better than obnoxious beeps sent from hell

keeping all my shit in my backpack. there is a place for everything, and everything goes in its place. fuck fuck what do you mean people master this as 10 year olds im gonna eat concrete . this is such a helpful skill

it's voluntary let's all cheer for learning what i want to learn!!!

SLEEP i have learned the importance of sleep and probably will not forget it horrendously again . what the fuck was i doing staying up til 2am. no wonder it sucked to get up

planning for future me. i set out my lunch and outfit for the day the night before. cannot stress enough that not having to pick my food or clothes makes shit faster

brushing my teeth.. seems small but like. wow <3 i feel better about the day ahead when i have brushed my teeth first.. woa..

yknow. life skills 5 years late. or whatever . yay for figuring shit out and yay for my meds.,., my awesome effective meds i love you adhd meds i am so thankful for you

[strangesmallbard]

suzanne collins introduced a morally gray milf in thg book 3 for ME actually. she thought to herself “steph strangemsmallbard will one day read these books” and created alma coin. anyway

[halluciniwaynia]

crazy how it took less than two years for people to see the DEA as “that government agency nobody gives a shit about” to “im actively going to firebomb their offices”