I will say, though, people used to be way meaner about fic online when I was a kid. Readers can still be shitty, don't get me wrong, but it was the wild fucking west when I was young and new to fandom.
Sporking communities (communities dedicated to going through fic line-by-line to make fun of it to an audience), homophobic death threats, "constructive criticism" that was really just designed to hurt young writers' feelings... Like this was all considered not just acceptable but fun and fairly normalized. You were considered "butthurt" if this stuff really affected you.
But damn, it was so mean. Like so unnecessarily mean. People were practically hunting fan writers for sport just because they wrote fic/meta/roleplays/etc. that they didn't enjoy. I cannot overemphasize that making fun of writers was considered a viable fandom path at a certain point. Some people got very big followings for sporkings, takedowns, particularly creative flames, etc.
What I'm telling you is that making fun of others' writing was considered a kind of fanwork in and of itself.
Like... I remember writing something online when I was about fourteen and -- I don't even remember what it was, being honest with you. It probably wasn't very good, given my age. But I do remember that someone just replied to it with a link for a website "how to write" and nothing else, and it hurt my feelings so badly that I didn't even want to keep going. That was considered concrit back then, even though it was really just a thinly veiled insult. Pretty sure whoever wrote that comment thought it was hilarious, and others would have agreed with them. I definitely would've been mocked if I'd complained.
And... that was just what you had to put up with if you posted your writing publicly. Some of those old warnings like "flames will be used to make s'mores!" come off as kind of cringe these days, but it really was a coping mechanism that you had to develop if you wanted to get through it at all. It was saying "your words won't hurt me, so don't bother."
Like... I like to believe that I'm a pretty good writer these days, and I can guarantee that not one of those assholes who made fun of me or mocked my work or talked shit about my ideas actually helped to make me what I am today. It was the people who encouraged me to play with a lot of different ideas and forms of writing who really helped me grow. Nothing worked better than just writing and writing and writing without fear that I would be punished for doing so.
So even if you're a garbage person who likes to hurt people because it makes you feel big and strong and important, think about all this pragmatically. Be totally fucking selfish for a minute. Think about all of the good writing you will never, ever get to read if you destroy the writer's self-esteem when they're still learning. Think about all the people who will never grow. All the beautiful flowers that are being nipped in the bud every day by assholes like you.
And even if someone never gets good, even if they just splash around in stupid ideas and awful prose and incoherent characterization... so fucking what? No one owes you beauty. Sometimes the beauty is just in having fun with what you're doing, and sometimes that's enough.
I am actually extremely relieved that fandom isn't quite as cruel as it was when I was a kid, but I won't pretend that things are perfect now. People still have this weird entitlement to them, like other people in fandom only exist to create things that they enjoy. Like other people only have worth, only matter, if their presence gives you exactly what you want when you want it.
You don't have to like everything that other people make! You don't even have to like them. But come on, now. Let people have fun. And don't act like other people's fun is only valid if it's of use to you.
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From the book Organizing Solutions for People with ADHD:
Putting a coat on the back of a chair by the door is fine, but if you prefer, use coat hooks and a large catch-all basket for dropping keys, hats, gloves.
Small bookcase end-table next to the couch to store craft projects, books, and other things being worked on for easy access.
Add a storage unit near the dining room table to transition between eating and working there.
Daily toiletry items should be stored in a basket that you can move easily
Extra toiletries and medicine cabinet items go in open shelf/basket storage so they can be seen and used easily. If items no longer fit, purge the excess. Don't obscure the view!
If you disrobe in the bathroom, place a tall hamper in there.
Keep a set of cleaning supplies in each bathroom
Edit: I also have this post on budgeting with ADHD + feel free to check my tags, coz I am trying to remember to tag as needed for this stuff. :)
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that feeling you get when you see a popular post from pre-2013 tumblr and you go on their blog and see that op is still posting regularly......hotel california ass website genuinely
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being a manager sucks balls half the time but the cashier kids im in charge of trust me enough to dick around in front of me so ive been keeping a running list of the shit they say that makes me laugh randomly:
-"guys, is it cheating if you play fortnite with your ex" [4 seperate others, immediately]: "YES"
-"there must be like… infinite sentences"
-"bro what bro what the fuck bro what's that mean bro why'd you say that bro what" <distraught response to a girl randomly greeting him with 'hey there big boy' in an old timey transatlantic news reporter accent
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lead balloon (the tumblr post that saved me)
if this comic resonated with you, it would mean the world to me if you donated to this palestinian family's escape fund.
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no creative notes because this isn't that kind of comic.
I know I don’t owe any of you anything but I still felt compelled to write about my long term absence. And I feel far enough away from the dangerous spot I was in to be able to make this comic. I have a therapist now, and she agreed that making this could be a very cathartic gesture, and the start of properly leaving these thoughts behind me. I am still, at seemingly random times, blindsided by fleeting desires to kill myself. They’re always passing urges, but it’s disarming, and uncomfortable. I worry sometimes that my brain’s spent so long thinking only about suicide that it’s forgotten how to think about anything else. Like, now that I've opened that door for myself, I'll never be able to fully shut it again. But I’m trying my best to encourage my mind in other directions. We'll see how that goes.
I am still donating all proceeds from my store to Palestinian causes. So far, I've donated over $15K, not including donations coming from my own pocket or the fundraising streams which jointly raised around $10K. In the time since I made my initial post about where this money would be going, the focus has shifted from aid organisations to directly donating to escape funds.
If you'd like to do the same, you can look at Operation Olive Branch, which hosts hundreds of Palestinian escape funds or donate to Safebow, which has helped facilitate the safe crossing and securing of important medical procedures for over 150 at-risk palestinians since the beginning of the genocide.
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hypothesis: vampires are magically vulnerable to light originating from the sun
observation: moonlight has no effect on vampires, despite being a reflection of the sun
conclusion: this aversion is not a result of light or its origin, but some property of sunlight only present in direct contact
hypothesis: vampires are extremely sensitive to uv radiation
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