Hi friend, welcome to the multifandom chaos! I’m Jak, pronounced like “yak.” I’m queer and use any pronouns but “it.” My floof sideblog is @were-jak, my AO3 is @JakYak. Minors welcome but I occasionally post 18+ content, interact at your own risk. I practice Ship and Let Ship and kinktomato. I collect fandoms like a gremlin and am a serial commenter on AO3. AO3 @JakYak. I’m always up for fanfic suggestions! If you read this far, let’s be friends. Hablo español. 🇬🇹 Ik spreek een beetje Nederlands.
baby Ilya’s tiny angry Russian ranting when Irina won’t let him stay on the ice and his cheeks are all bright pink and his little nose is wet and he’s plopping down onto the ice and crossing his arms and yelling NYET NYET NYET.
Across the ocean at the exact same time, the exact same thing is happening to a very exhausted Yuna Hollander.
I always think of the description I saw years ago: Self-imposed deadlines don't help me, because I know the person who set them, and they're full of shit.
Give yourself the treat before you start. I'm serious. And ideally during the task and afterwards too.
Executive dysfunction comes from a lack of available dopamine. Common advice is wrong. You need to provide your own dopamine before you can start. Otherwise you're trying to run your car on empty.
"But what if I still don't do it" well you already weren't getting it done anyway. Now you have a little treat. Try again later.
You deserve kindness and care even when you aren't being productive.
(Also read How to Keep House While Drowning by KC Davis)
I give my students a LOT of techniques for starting writing when it feels overwhelming or daunting, but one of them is exactly this: dopamine load BEFOREHAND. It may sound weird to people on tumblr dot com, but a lot of people seriously struggle with executive dysfunction when it comes to writing literally anything, to the extent that it can cause such symptoms as panic, depression, and AI chatbot use.
I usually suggest this technique as a "Reverse Pomodoro." In the original Pomodoro, you work for 25 minutes and then take a break for 5 minutes (the times vary, but that's the essential ratio). People with executive dysfunction often find this insurmountable, and they get even more frustrated, and then the task seems even more difficult. So instead, flip those times.
FIRST, spend 25 minutes doing something energizing and engaging that you like to do. Not scrolling social media passively, not watching tv, not napping. Try something like colouring, doing yoga, running/walking around the block, talking about your favourite tv show with someone in real time, playing with the dog or cat, making and eating a lovely sandwich, hula hooping, something active. Having a little treat absolutely falls in this category!
(on the subject of little treats: refusing yourself food until you do work is for fucking Puritans and you can be kinder to yourself)
Then, after 25 minutes (or however long it takes to eat the sandwich or finish the yoga routine, it doesn't have to be exact), spend 5 minutes writing (or doing whatever you're struggling to start). Most people can coax themselves into doing something they find difficult for five minutes, if they have already filled up the joy/energy/engagement bucket. You can put a timer on for the 5 minutes if you want, or if you find that annoying, just work for as long as you like.
The other key is: don't push yourself to keep going when you're frustrated or tired—that will just reinforce the negative belief that you already have, which tells you that this task is painful to do, and needs to be avoided. If you've commonly had to force yourself to do this kind of task, that's likely part of why you think of it as painful and have trouble starting it now. Also, you should just, at a basic level, try not to put yourself in pain for the sake of productivity. So just do it till the good feelings run out. Then start hula hooping or colouring again for another 25 minutes. When the tank's refilled, try another 5 minutes of work, if you can. Adjust times to taste.
Not every technique works for everyone, but I've seen this one work for many students who are genuinely and seriously disabled by executive dysfunction. And many people find themselves getting more and more excited and engaged in the "difficult" task—because the good feelings from the hula hooping carry over, and because they're suddenly able to do the task without feeling pain, and feel accomplishment without feeling pain.
when someone is completely fucking wrong about your blorbo but you don't want to argue about what basically boils down to opinions about shit that doesn't matter so you just sit there like
i enter the shower. hours pass. i emerge from the shower, having mixed all of my soaps and scrubs and lotions and conditioners and shampoos and body washes together in the tub in precise alchemical quantities. i smell like 314 different herbs and spices. my hair will not need washing for the next 500 days. my skin has developed protective chitinous scales. i step out of the tub and immediately slip and fall on a stray puddle of mane 'n tail and sprain my pussy
Ilya always has a mop of frizzy wild curls at the cottage because
They're always in and out of the water – lake swims, pool swims, hot tub, showers – so doing his curl routine each time would be crazy when he could be spending that precious time sucking his boyfriend's dick.
Shane's not the biggest fan of how Ilya's styling products feel. He'll tolerate it, but Ilya can tell by his face that the texture isn't his favourite. Less product = more hair touching.
Shane's hands are always in his hair. When they're kissing. When they're watching a movie. When they fuck. When Ilya sits with his head in Shane's lap. When they're napping on the couch together. Shane's hands are usually full of a handful of Ilya's curls.
Shane seems to really like it. One time Shane said Ilya's fluffy hair made him look like a duckling and he's been chasing that high ever since.
He just prefers this version of him that doesn't need to look perfect and be perfect to be loved and adored. Shane never makes him feel lazy for letting his hair get a little wild over summer. He kisses his temples and tells him he's so fucking beautiful.
Absolutely wild to me how sometimes you don't even realize the way you'd been taught to perceive things as a kid was kinda fucked up, actually, until decades later.
Example:
As a kid, I constantly lived in fear of damaging shit in my parent's house. The walls. The floors (especially the floors. The wood was beautiful. Shiny. But so easy to scratch). The cabinets.
As a sixteen-year-old, I once took my car to the dealership after work and paid a very dear sum of $250 ($10/hr cashier salary) to fix a slight scratch in the paint because I knew if my father saw it there would be hell to pay. It didn't matter that I parked far out, like I'd been taught, and someone scratched it anyway. It was my fault. I failed in my duties as a steward of my vehicle.
Every time I scratched a rim on a curb while parallel parking or got a door ding or, god forbid, didn't wash and vacuum that car every weekend, it was treated like some sort of moral failing.
Last year, when my husband and I first moved into our house, he scraped the side of our car when parking in our (Very Narrow) garage. When he told me, my first instinct was to be afraid for him. Like something terrible was going to happen to him because of this mistake. I urgently reassured him that it was okay, it was an accident, I wasn't mad. Baffled, he was like, "Yeah? I know? Like, thank you for the reassurance, but I'm only a little annoyed, I'm not upset. It's just a car." And I had to take several minutes to process that. It's...just a car.
We keep the car tidy. We maintain it. But we wash it maybe 4x a year. We only vacuum it after dirty road trips or when the dog hair starts to get annoying. It has scrapes and dings and the leather seats have stains. But that's ok. Because it's just a car.
This morning, I realized that a small rock had gotten embedded in the felt foot on one of our bar stools. Neither of us had noticed. There are now scratches on our beautiful hardwood floor. My immediate response was fear accompanied by a heavy measure of paralyzing guilt. "I'm so sorry," I told my husband, "I should have noticed. I'll figure out how to fix it, I swear. I can probably sand down that section and match the stain and--"
"Whoa, hey," he said. "It was an accident. And it's fine. Floors are going to get damaged. They're floors. We live here. There was damage in places before we even bought the house, remember? It's not a big deal. It's just a floor." Right. It's just a floor. Right.
My husband's mom is visiting and this afternoon, as I was sitting in the kitchen looking at the scratches on the floor, I offhandedly asked her if my husband had ever broken or damaged anything as a kid. "Of course," she said. Household items. A TV. A wrecked car during his teen years. I asked how she punished him.
"Why would I punish him for things like that?" she said. "They were all accidents."
it's 2014. everyone is doing the als ice bucket challenge. ilya rozanov is nominated for the ice bucket challenge. in true asshole fashion, once he completes his own video he nominates shane hollander to do the challenge next. shane hollander must complete the ice bucket challenge. he decides to film the challenge after practice, wearing a light gray compression shirt, shorts, and a backwards ball cap, with hayden and jj throwing the water on him. ilya rozanov watches the video, thinking it will be funny. he has never regretted his life choices more as he is forced to witness an already sweaty shane "jock" hollander become drenched in water, shirt clinging to his body even more, head shaking off the excess water with a grin, staring at the camera like he just knew ilya would be watching. it is like something out of ilya's - literally - wet dreams. he downloads the video to his phone. he makes another very large donation to the als association.
i have understood so many things about online leftist culture by the fact that when i said "your local community has people you will morally and politically disagree with but you cannot lock them out of accessing any tangible service you’re organising" one of the tags responding said "this isn’t about proshippers in here you’re not welcome" like. folks. focus with me. some of us are homeless here.
There's a disconnect happening here because the primary function of social media for most casual users is to form a circle of friends around the usual things that friendships are built on: shared interests and lifestyles and ideas of what is important and what is unacceptable. When people are mainly doing leftism on social media, this encourages thinking of leftism as centered around establishing high-minded social clubs.
For anyone who still isn't getting it from someone who helps people IRL: There's a difference between whom you're helping to feed at the mealshare and whom you're choosing to hang out with for fun after the mealshare. You don't have to invite a hungry person with opinions you don't like to play board games with you, but you do have to help keep them from starving if you're serious about leftist organizing.
[Image ID: Tumblr reply with username blocked out reading: *volunteering at the soup kitchen, holding a bowl hesitantly to my chest* what do you think about age gaps in ships /End ID]
Shane getting criticized for not using pride tape and he’s caught on a mic later that week saying I didn’t realize it wasn’t the sucking dick that made me gay but the rainbow . Which is how he comes out.
Ilya’s been at the cottage for about a week. Soaking up as much time with Shane as they can possibly fit into a two week period.
It’s only when he gets into the shower that he realizes they didn’t fuck yesterday. He takes a beat, really thinks it over that can’t be right, but no, it is. 24 hours in close proximity without sex. He feels oddly respectable like they could really be a responsible, boring, average couple, the kind that doesn’t have to hide and goes to events together and doesn’t jeopardize their careers by coming out. He bets this is how Scott Hunter feels with his barista boyfriend.
That lasts right up until Shane walks into the shower with him, fresh off his morning run and drops to his knees.
“Shane, fuck.”
Shane noses at Ilya’s quickly hardening dick
watches the way it thickens, blood making it swell to hardness.
Ilya threads his fingers through Shane’s hair, it’s longer now, a nice length for grabbing. Pulls his face away from his cock.
“Боже мой, you needed it that badly huh?
A whole day without and now you’re gagging for it,” he looks down at Shane’s face, his big pleading eyes and releases his grip, “we’ll go on then, take it.”
Shane shoves his face back where it was, continues licking and sucking at any skin he can reach. All the while chanting a litany of “Thank you, thank you thank y-“ as he kisses over Ilya’s dick.
He’s got one hand cupping the back of Shane’s head the other propped against the shower wall, desperately trying to stay upright while Shane mauls him.
Shane places one final kiss and kitten lick at the head of Ilya’s dick before he sucks him down in one fell swoop all the way to the base, nose touching Ilya’s pubes as he settles, finally content with Ilya’s cock shoved down his throat.
The image alone is almost enough to make him blow his load.
Shane isn’t even moving, seemingly perfectly happy to just hold his cock in his throat now that it’s there.
“Sweetheart, please move.”
He can feel Shane’s throat working his cock even without moving his head. Sees the deep flush trailing down his neck, his muscles are nicely defined from his run. Fuck his Shane is so pretty on his knees for Ilya, face red and tears in his eyes, and it’s too early for self-restraint.
“Keep looking at me like that sweetheart, I’m going to come.”
Shane keeps his eyes on Ilya, blinks slowly at him, mouth stretched wide around Ilya’s cock. He kneads his hands into the globes of Ilya’s ass using the leverage he has there to somehow press his face further into Ilya’s crotch, makes a sound Ilya assumes is meant to be a moan but can’t escape with the obstruction.
Ilya thrusts forward against Shane’s face, pulling him with him as he grinds his dick down an extra few centimetres in a poor imitation of the thrust he usually likes, it doesn’t matter, he’s so pent up at this point, he keeps Shane flush to his dick and comes down his throat, moaning.
“Shane what the fuck.” He’s panting hard as he slowly pulls out of Shane’s mouth.
Shane smiles at him, falls back on his hands a little as he looks up at Ilya.
“Good morning, I missed you.” His voice is wrecked.
“I’m not sure it was me you missed malysh” he says laughing, “did you want to get up now?”
Shane shakes his head, “no, not yet, I like it here.”
Fucking hell.
Ilya nods ignoring the way his dick twitches, “Ok, ok.” he pauses, thinking. “Do you want to stay there while I wash your hair?”
I don’t think people truly understand the scope of the damage Sony is about to do to physical media. They literally invented the compact disc. They are the reason why Blu-ray as a format won the HD wars over HD-DVD. They have gargantuan influence over manufacturing disc-based media. If Sony as a company stops making physical media for their next gen gaming consoles, this is going to affect movies and music as well. If you buy CDs, DVDs, or Blu-rays, those are next on the chopping block.
I do want to point out that about 10 years ago, there was one manufacturer still pressing vinyl records left in the U.S. But since the resurgence of this format, multiple pressing facilities have opened, or reopened, and now vinyl is the most common form of physical music on the market. CDs and cassettes are also making a comeback.
Sony claims it’s using sales trends as a reason to phase out physical games. Corporations do actually care about making money. They follow these trends. I’m not saying panic buy all the physical media right now, but when it comes to owning things you can hold in your hand, you have to actually buy them.
"but physical media is worse quality and will break with time" I DON'T CARE! I WANT TO OWN THINGS I LIKE! I WANT SHELVES FULL OF DVDS, CDS, AND A LIBRARY!
But low key makes me think about how people with adhd have been raised their whole lives to value a day based on what they accomplished vs what they experienced
I think your point is excellent. But also consider:
That list might say things like “Paint a picture. Go birdwatching. Finish that great novel I started reading. Call my grandma. Learn to bake a cake. Visit my sister. Play piano.”
For me at least, the good/fun things are harder without meds too. I can have the best intentions, but following through is hard.
@yearnalisms requested to bring this beautiful text post by @honeyybrii to gif form! all inspo credit to op of the text post! 💜 this tag is especially a good sum up of the set:
#it's genuinely so funny everytime ilya tries to teeheehaha around an insecurity #shane is like actually 🤓👆🏻
gummygunk
dailybridgerton
theartofmadeline
turnnoffyourmind
jacobvanloon
