the endorphin rush when you find a new hyperfixation

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taylor price

oozey mess
noise dept.

Kaledo Art
AnasAbdin

Andulka
Claire Keane
Not today Justin

JBB: An Artblog!
YOU ARE THE REASON

Discoholic 🪩
Game of Thrones Daily
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

Love Begins

titsay
hello vonnie
No title available
art blog(derogatory)
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@weatherbittensapphire
the endorphin rush when you find a new hyperfixation
No hair dye strand test we dye like men
All or nothing
guys i found the best one
Types of Ships
Parts of the Ship
Wind Directions
Sides of Boats
my bad, should have reblogged from here.
Oh my gods, guys, this looks so useful!!
Reblogging for future reference.
A reference I desperately needed
This got deleted the first time I reblogged it. Happy to see it again.
For all your nautical D&D needs.
I do (did?) this professionally, I love talking about ships, ask me anything.
Hey. Don’t know how often you’re on here... but I think about you all the time. And I wish I wouldn’t have been such a bitch, so I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m sorry, and I hope you’re doing great.
Depending on who this is, Facebook me if you wanna talk cuz who knows what’ll happen, I’m on there a little more and I haven’t looked at this tumblr in a loooooong time.
You, the queen of a fairy tale kingdom, got cursed to give birth to a princess who’s going to live her life isolated in a tower the first 20 years of her life. Narrate how you avoid your daughter’s fate.
She laughed, when she placed the curse on me. Laughed and laughed. She called me a fool for coming to her, for wanting children who would sap my strength and steal my power.
One child to take my kingdom, she promised me. Well, I’d wanted an heir. It didn’t have to be a curse.
One child the sea would steal. There was room in that. They didn’t have to die, only to love the sea. I would buy the finest ships.
And the third would suffer my grandmother’s fate.
The tower.
Grandmother told me stories about that tower, shuddering. About the isolation almost driving her mad. About the desperate longing for escape. I know what that escape cost her, and my grandfather as well, with his scarred face and limping gait.
That was going to be difficult.
The sorceress’s curse worked. Within the year, I held my first babe in my arms, a sturdy boy who kicked and cried and cuddled against his mother as if he hadn’t been made only to bring me grief. Well, all mothers grieve.
Keep reading
My tablet’s still busted, but I wanted to do somethin cute for Halloween
Click to see what these silly ghosts are up to~
in the year 2018, I can not believe
in the year 2019, I can not believe
in the year 2020, I STILL can not believe
My tablet’s still busted, but I wanted to do somethin cute for Halloween
Click to see what these silly ghosts are up to~
in the year 2018, I can not believe
in the year 2019, I can not believe
The number of times I have been delighted by witty banter only to find out later that I was “Flirting” is both unfortunate and disappointing.
“haha so what about that guy, huh?”
Me: what about him
“Well you seemed super into him”
Me: what why
“…dude you were flirting all night”
Me:
Me: Whoms't™™
I found out several of my female coworkers were planning on trying to get our male coworker to ask me out because “You guys kept flirting” but I was like “We were literally just goofing around. Like we literally just told jokes to each other. Literally just stuff that friends do, the same stuff you and I do.” I was definitely 100% NOT flirting but everyone thought I was
“You were laughing at everything TJ did!”
“He paper clipped a banana to the ceiling, Isabelle. That’s fucking bonkers”
This might be a good time for Ms. Psych degree here to step in and let ye all know that People Are Unable To Identify Flirting. There are double-blind studies to support this, if you instruct participants to flirt or not flirt with another participant, neither the second participant nor onlookers are able to accurately tell which instruction the first participant was given. Even if you get the flirting participant to rate their attraction to the person they’re flirting with, and only count trials where people are either flirting with people they find attractive, or not flirting with people they don’t find attractive NO ONE CAN TELL WHO IS FLIRTING OR WHO ISN’T.
I’ve heard that people actually have a *less than 50% chance* of guess whether someone is flirting or not.
Thank fuck this isn’t just me failing at humanity
SagePub has one such study here, dated 2014. There might be more recent work, however.
pretty shitty how baseline human activities like singing, dancing and making art got turned into skills instead of being seen as behaviors
so now it’s like ‘the point of doing them is to get good at them’ and not ‘this is a thing humans do, the way birds sing and bees make hives’.
one of the reasons i like greek mythology because the greeks went “yes these are our gods. they’re very powerful and can not die and are incapable of any sort of critical thinking.”
no one wants to admit they shop at hot topic but we all do
I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.
People always tell introverts to be more talkative and leave their confort zones. yet no one tells extroverts to shut up to make the zone comfortable.
Look, creators need validation. Yeah, I preach the write for yourself, draw for yourself, CREATE for yourself, which is true. Everyone should create for themselves because it’s THEIR’S and it’ll always hold something special. Create what YOU need. BUT, creators still need the validation.
If someone is putting their creations out there for even 1 person to see, they need the validation that they are GOOD at what they’re doing. If they don’t get the validation, they will stop. Creativity, inspiration, and motivation will come to a halt because creators will no longer feel like people care about what they create. They may do it privately, sure, but YOU will never see any of it again because that validation is gone. That confidence to SHARE with you, is gone.
So, what I’m saying is that if you LIKE your favorite creator’s work whether that be writing, art, graphics, gifs, video edits, etc. you NEED to validate them otherwise you’ll stop seeing new creations. It takes 2 seconds to comment in the tags of a reblog. If you like what someone produced, TELL THEM.
Ok but if tony stark were to teach a science or math class he would totally be the type of teacher that’s totally lax and has pretty much no rules and goes off on so many tangents and rants about theories and possible inaccuracies, and will give you extra credit for finding a flaw in his own work, the type of teacher that allows you to be late if only you can answer the dreaded Question Of The Day™ that no ones gotten right ever, the type that everybody LOVES and can go to for any sort of help on any problem, allows cursing in the classroom (does it himself too) and starts a robotics club too just for the hell of it
Also probably starts roasting all his students/rap battles, starts robot fighting competitions in the middle of class, challenges students to dance battles, orders the whole class pizza because why the fuck not? Will kick anyone out of the class if they disrespect others or say uncalled rude shit, will take selfies with students who fall asleep during the lectures (and at the end of the year he will print a whole ass collage picture of all the selfies he’s taken with his sleeping students)
“You’re late,” he says, and the class settles in, righting in their chairs with big toothed smiles.
“What’ll it be today,” Casey says, already rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling.
So is Tony.
“How much does the earth weigh?”
The class breaks into chatter, quiet enough that it doesn’t breach the front of the classroom, but loud of enough the both of them know it’s there.
“Mr. Stark-”
“What’ll it be? A detention, or an answer?”
And Tony knows the answer, has a damn P.H.D. in this shit, but he never knows what kind of response he’ll get.
“Nothing.”
“You’re really not going to answer?”
Casey always tries. He’s stubborn, and bitter, but he hasn’t lost that itch to fight.
“No. I mean it weighs nothing.”
He doesn’t expect that.
“Elaborate.”
And Casey is smart, so smart, but sometimes he skips third bell to go smoke in the boy’s bathroom, and he wants the world for this kid.
“Weight depends on the gravity of the planet it’s on, right? So, technically, it weighs nothing.”
Tony loves these kids like it might move mountains, but they still find ways to surprise him.
“Go sit down,” is all he says.
And he smiles till the bell rings.
@hesallin you’ve got too much power.
YAS, PLEASE GIVE MOAR!!! PLEASE!
MØRE!!!pleaAse!!
“New kid.” Tony dumps his jacket on his chair as he walks in, spins on his heel and points to the back of the classroom, where a boy is bent over a book not really reading it, his shoes making quiet scuffling sounds as he fidgets. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”
The room goes quiet when he enters, as it always does. It’s not because Tony cares - he doesn’t. It’s just a gentle gesture of respect, a thing the kids can give back to a guy who’s given them so much.
The boy looks up quickly; he appears startled, Tony thinks maybe he’s had too much sugar, or caffeine, because he’s way more alert than a sleep-deprived teenager should be. Tony watches the boy’s eyes, flitting nervously from student to student, all of whom are giving him bored looks or not looking at all. Finally, the kid speaks.
“I’m - I’m - I’m Peter,” he says quietly. “I’m from Queens.”
He glances at Tony with a brief, hopeful expression, then looks back at his book, his fingers lightly tracing the words without reading them.
“Welcome, kid. Okay, let’s talk science.”
*
Tony’s fast. He’s chaotically analytical, he knows things - the students have seen it. Like five weeks ago, when he noticed Corey’s sudden dip in attendance and his loss of interest in science (the kid had a passion for it) and somehow connected that with the two-days-prior conversation about Corey’s sick dog. When he mentioned it privately to the kid, he erupted into tears and told him how the dog had been put down - Tony sat with him after school every day for a month talking about it, until Corey came back with a watery smile and a puppy from his dad.
Now, Tony hadn’t known Peter Parker for long - he’d been in his class for a couple months - but he knew the kid was good. And yeah, good at science, but that wasn’t what Tony meant; Peter had a good heart, he wanted to help people, he’d ask ‘entirely theoretical’ questions about medicine and machines that could change lives but didn’t exist, and when Tony spoke he could see the twinkle in his eyes, and sometimes the kid doodled things on a stray notepad but Tony knew he was grasping onto every word he said.
But Peter’s effort dips; one day he’s racing into the classroom 20 minutes late, his still-open backpack shrugged over one shoulder and his hair a dishevelled mess and his cheeks red from running (Tony doesn’t punish him because he’s only just walked into class himself 10 minutes ago). There’s another instance in which Peter’s homework is scrawled messily in black ink and is half the length of anyone else’s. The tired eyes, the way his hands sometimes flit to his head, then jolt back as soon as he senses anyone’s gaze on him… Tony knows something’s up. He calls him back after class.
Peter looks nervous. Everyone’s gone home, it’s just the two of them now. Tony smiles and indicates to a free chair by his desk, but he himself sits on the table.
“Am I -“
“No,” Tony cuts him off, he doesn’t want to add anymore stress to the kid, and he smiles kindly. “You’re not in trouble, kid. Just wanna talk.”
Peter gazes at his lap. He knows what’s coming. He meets Tony’s eyes again. “I’m sorry -”
“Don’t be. Am I giving you too much work? I can lay off,” says Tony.
“N-No, it isn’t… It isn’t that.”
“You wanna talk about it?”
Peter sighs. He does, he really does; no one knows he’s Spider-Man, and he wants advice and - well - his teacher is Iron Man, if he can make time to teach and save the world, why can’t Peter do the same?
“I can’t,” he says.
“Alright, kid.” Tony puts a hand on Peter’s shoulder encouragingly. “But you know I wouldn’t tell anyone, right?”
And Tony’s got this look in his eyes and he’s worked it out. He’s seen the headaches, the fidgeting, the guilt, he knows. The kid’s got a secret and he wants to help people. Sometimes he shows up with inexplicable bruises and promises they’re not from home, that he’s just slipped over during gym.
Peter breathes out and closes his eyes tightly. “I’m Spider-Man.”
Tony smiles. Peter’s eyes are still closed and his face has gone pale, but there’s some sort of relief there; his shoulders have relaxed and he seems somewhat happier, like a weight’s been lifted from his shoulders.
He opens his eyes and repeats himself more clearly. “I’m Spider-Man.”
“Well I must say, I was expecting Spider-Man to be… an actual man,” Tony jokes, and Peter’s eyes narrow playfully, but he looks so glad that Tony believes him. “Anyway, maybe you should come by the tower tomorrow night and Iron Man could be your mentor.”
“R-Really?” Peter grins widely. “Mr. Stark, that’d - that’d be awesome.”
Tony nods. “Sure. Oh - and we’ll have to fix that crappy pyjama suit of yours.”
“Hey! At least it’s comfortable! You fly around in a tin can.”
They both laugh. Tony squeezes Peter’s shoulder, and the kid’s chest fills with warmth. He’s got help. He knows it’s all going to be OK.
Peter wraps his arms around Tony.
“Thank you, Mr. Stark.”
fuck me that was beautiful. this entire post is beautiful.
OMFG I DIDNT KNOW I NEEDED THIS UNTIL NOW
@ all my fellow fic writers, I hope 2019 blesses you with inspiration, motivation and time to write, and your inboxes and messages are flooded with lovely comments and feedback/reviews
I don’t know who came up with this….but my mind has been utterly shattered.