#turvi needs therapy

[turvi]

So I watched Good Omens Season 2 and I am unwell.

[eachmostremembering]

I think s2 is a really beautiful and overall quite good expansion and deepening of the themes and arcs of season 1! however, as for my dumb little romantic heart feelings, there is just nothing like the way carmy looked at sydney when she first showed up at the restaurant and looked again. straining the stock after she tells him her history. her eyes watching him as he tries her food. him looking through her notebook. family style? two tops, booths.

[thebibliosphere]

Speaking of therapy, I say, as though we're old friends, and you're not a stranger trapped in this metaphorical elevator with me and you can hear the suspension wires starting to fray.

I've been doing a lot of work recently that's focused on imposter syndrome and the feeling that no matter how well or how much I do, I'm not good enough. That I'm somehow tricking everyone into thinking my work is actually good.

Some days it's a minor niggle in my head that I can gentle and soothe with logic and affirmations. Or smother, depending on the mood. Other times it's loud and all-consuming and the mental anguish it causes me is so real I can feel it twitching in my muscles. This desperate fight-or-flight instinct with nowhere to go and nothing to fight but myself.

Anyway, because I'm several types of Mentally Unwell™, I was switching between workshop sheets ahead of next week. Filling in different forms. (Trying to get a good grade in therapy) And I got my "recognize your harmful ADHD coping mechanisms" worksheet mixed in with the "you're not actually lying to people, you just feel like you are because your brain is full of weasels" worksheet, and seeing them side by side made something go topsy turvy in my head, and I just had to sit and breathe for a couple of minutes until the urge to scream passed. Because it clicked, it all suddenly clicked.

The reason the imposter syndrome workshops and therapy sessions aren't sticking was because I do routinely trick people into thinking I'm someone I'm not.

Because I'm masking my ADHD for their convenience.

I've always known there was something wrong with me. My neurotypical peers made it abundantly clear I didn't fit in or was failing in some way I couldn't see nor remedy, no matter how hard I tried.

So I compressed myself into a workaholic box of hyper-competence in the hopes they'd stop noticing the flaws and exploit like me instead. And then subsequently lived with the daily fear that if they looked too close, they'd realize I'm a monumental fuck up with enough personal baggage to block the Suez Canal.

If you ever need someone to burn themselves to ashes for your comfort and convenience, I'm your gal.

Or I used to. Until I had a bit of a breakdown, and the rubber band holding my brain together snapped and pinged off into the stratosphere, never to be seen again.

Unfortunately, the trauma of living like that didn't also fuck off and instead left a gaping maw where my personality ought to be, so now I get to deal with that aftermath.

And it's that aftermath that's affecting the imposter syndrome shit. Because yes, I am hyper-competent and good at what I do-- but it doesn't feel real because that is how I mask.

And the truly frustrating thing is I am good at what I do. I am not pretending. I worked hard to be good at this. It just feels like I'm dicking around because 90% of my personality turns out to be trauma masquerading as humor in a trenchcoat, and having people genuinely like something weird I'm doing is so foreign my brain has decided it's just another form of masking.

I'm pretending to be a good author so people will think I'm a good author, and my brain thinks we are in Danger of being found out. We are in Danger, and writing is Dangerous because then people will know I'm Weird and not whatever palatable version I've presented myself as for their NT sensibilities.

Like the neurotic vampire with a raging praise kink wasn't an obvious giveaway.

Anyway. I got nothing else. Thanks for listening.

I'm going to go be very normal in another room and not stare into the abyss of my own soul for a bit.

[paper-mario-wiki]

hey, can I ask you for some advice? sorry if this is uncalled for or you just can't answer this, I understand if so

how did you work up the courage to actually get to HRT so fast? I've found out I was a trans woman around when I was 15 and im about to have my 23rd birthday, and due to my financial/working/academic/housing (I live w my fairly conservative parents) situation it does not look like it's in the cards for me any time soon. but also I feel like I should just try to find a way and try to start out ASAP, for the sake of my own happiness. but also im afraid of whatll happen if things go Topsy turvy and I need housing from a family that thinks I'm a freak. how did you do it? again, apologies if this ask feels unwarranted or to big to ask to "Funny lady play tf2 dot blog", but I'm fine if this doesn't see an answer

First of all, I don't have insurance, so keep in mind that I did it out of pocket (note: I am broke).

I used Zocdoc (America only, sorry) to find a hormone therapy consultation, went to that appointment, and they referred me to an endocrinologist. After I got some blood tests done, I got prescribed a 30 day supply of sublingual Estradiol for about $16, again, without insurance. Now, this is of course in Biden's Seattle so it might not be as easy where you are. But at least for me, the process from booking the first appointment, all the way to taking the first pill was about half a month, because I got lucky finding a doctor. During covid, according to my endocrinologist, there was a HUGE explosion of people wanting to medically transition, so a very common thing I've heard is that a lot of doctors are booked out for months. I was lucky enough to get this appointment on Sep 1st, because the next person available in my area wouldnt have gotten me in until November.

Critically, here's my main piece of advice: You can't start until you take the first real action towards accomplishing it outside of your head. You can think, and plan, and crystalize how great it would be if it happened, but you have to actually make the first step and google "HRT doctors in my area", and schedule an appointment. To do it, you must first do it. This goes for many things in life. Simply starting the processes instead of keeping them in my head had me accomplishing many things I never thought I actually would, like starting HRT, going to university in Japan, and moving to Seattle.

Many people like me, including maybe you, are really good at getting in your own head and thinking of every possible way something could go wrong, or could be denied to you. And you get so tied up in the reasoning that you forget about the Doing. To the best of your ability, try to stop thinking, and just start doing. Anything. Choose to do something that you have wanted to for a while. Just one thing. Doesn't have to be buying a plane ticket to France, or confessing a huge secret, maybe start with that thought you had the other day of "ya know I bet pottery on those big goofy wheels is fun" and google 'pottery wheels near me' and see where it takes you. It's easier than you'd think to try. And who knows, at the end of this process maybe you'll have a beautiful vase. Or, even better, a vase with a personality, flaws, and a new hobby that you're excited to get better at.

[sevensoulmates]

I think seeing flashbacks to eddie’s upbringing or bringing back his parents or therapy scenes with him again could really kind of flesh out that arc with him. He always gave me like not-quite lapsed Catholic vibes and I assume he’s always had a complicated relationship with things like faith. and then there’s the whole internalized homophobia part of it — what hits me is that Eddie is so wonderfully open and accepting of other people’s queerness but I don’t think he’s not really of his own and it’s so fucking hard to teach yourself to be kind about that. AND ALL THE STUFF U SAID W CHRIS. Yes. I need more Chris Diaz on screen and not him being out of town whatever the fuck that means

Honestly, the lack of Christopher in 7x05 almost felt to me like the same kind of weird topsy turvy world as the lack of Eddie in Buck's coma dream in 6x11. Just like Eddie would've been his anchor to the real world in Buck's coma dream, Christopher is Eddie's anchor to the real world. If he was physically present in the episode, I doubt Eddie would've been making these kinds of decisions so willy-nilly.

I'm not sure if that was purposeful or they just couldn't fit a Chris scene in there or what. But I do find it fascinating that in the episode that was on the surface SUPPOSED to deepen the relationship between Eddie and Marisol, Christopher was so erroneously ABSENT. It made the Eddie/Marisol relationship feel like something fragmented, like something was missing. Because Marisol has apparently been spending all this time "babysitting" Christopher and in her biggest episode to date, she doesn't even get a single exchange with him? We don't see how Chris reacts to her? We don't know how SHE feels about living with a child? That's a big step for her too like that could literally be your step-child and it feels like there's zero relationship there, even less than Ana-Christopher. She's okay with suddenly becoming a live-in pseudo-mother, because honey, that's the reality of what you were about to do.

Unfortunately, we don't know if Eddie actually talked to Chris about Marisol moving in or not, and either way doesn't have very great implications. But I can give the writers the benefit of the doubt that Christopher's absence was done on purpose, to make the whole Marisol moving in plot feel wrong and like a misstep on every level possible. I guess we'll see how things go down in episode 7!

[george-weasleys-girl]

GWG Ramblings

The Darker Sides of Harry Potter

tw: rape

It's not explicit, but nonetheless, I'm putting the rest under the cut.

~•~

So, I posted this earlier and it got me thinking. What other things got cut out of the books, either because they were inappropriate for young readers or weren't important to the story?

Whenever I edit my writing, there is usually at least one thing that I end up cutting because it isn't necessary or it detracts from the story. So, I would imagine there were quite a few stories that didn't make it into the series. And I'd really love to read those.

I also wonder what the series would've been like had it been written for adults rather than kids. I think about things like love potions (the magical world's version of the date rape drug). And since it was widely available, how did the magical community view rape? Was it even a crime? Or was it only a crime when love potions weren't involved? What kind of mindset are we looking at here?

Voldemort was the product of love potion rape. So, we know it did happen. On what scale, though? And what, if any, repercussions were there?

It's possible that it was deemed a crime with a harsh punishment. But it was rarely reported, not out of fear, but because the victim doesn't remember it, thanks to the memory spells that altered or wiped a person's memory.

Which brings me to another point.

I wrote an entire ramble on mental health care in the wizarding world. Something I didn't even consider at the time was the use of memory spells as mental health care. I talked about shock spells as being the magical equivalent of electro-shock therapy. One of the potential side effects of electroconvulsive therapy is memory loss.

On the surface, this seems like a great idea. Erase the memory of the trauma (be it rape or seeing Voldemort brutally murder one of your friends).

Then, voila! No more bad memories.

Except...

Does it erase the trauma caused by the event?

Imagine how fucked up it would be living with the effects of long-term trauma, but having no idea why and no way to remedy it.

It'd be like going to the doctor, knowing that something is wrong and being told it's just your imagination.

It's all in your head.

And brings me to another point. (I'm on a roll today.😅)

These spells were generally reversible (unless something goes wrong). So what if a person's true memories aren't wiped/altered but instead just made extremely difficult or impossible to access by non-magical means?

I think about when Hermione altered her parents' memories to erase her existence from their minds. I can't help but wonder if they were haunted by the reoccurring thought that something was missing. Something very, very important. But they had no idea what.

This all reminds me of the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (which, if you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it).

To sum up its about two people who, after their painful break-up, have their memories of each other wiped. The movie then follows the repercussions of that decision. The female lead, Clementine, is still plagued with depression even after the memories of her ex are all erased. And at the end of the day, the point is, we need our memories, both the good and bad if we are to grow and to heal.

We can't do either if we can't remember what hurt us.

~•~

ANYWAY.

Wow. I really galloped off on one hell of tangent. I think that's enough rambling for today.

And it wasn't even the one I've been working on. Go figure. 🤷‍♀️

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @kaysau2510 @sierraluvz @hanne-montana @rhunew @greenapplegrass @loca4moony @whotfskai

[lookwhatyoudidithasanxiety]

You're welcome Sun. I get it, things have gone topsy-turvy for you and you are technically away from your home and out of your comfort zone.

Things will be off for you even if Lunar is happy and over coming his own trauma. *I poke Sun in the forehead* Something you, Moon, and Bloodmoon need to do too. I wouldn't be surprised if Solar and Monty needs therapy too.

Sun: *blinks in surprise* *smiles a little* Yeah, we all do, I'll admit it. Not really a priority right now, though.

Besides, I've got other things to worry about. *smiles and rubs Lunar's head*

Lunar: Suuun!

Sun: What?

Lunar: Stoooppp! *giggles*

Sun: Hm...nope! *tugs his hat down*

Lunar: Sunny, no! *laughs*

[chknbzkt]

I’m still pretty busy with things but here’s some Strange Tides AU stuff below the cut

• Takes place in a world that basically split in two?? Like the continents shattered and pulled apart, forming on opposite sides of the world with numerous islands in between.

• Technology is pretty much long gone, and a looot of people died in the catastrophic event now known as The Shattering. People these days use wooden ships from days of old to get from place to place (metal is pretty scarce these days, you have to forage for it in old ruins or brave unstable caves to mine it). That said, because of sudden major drop in gas emissions the climate has jumpstarted recovering from the effects the previous populace had on it.

• On another note… the earth breaking the fuck apart also released a bunch of stuff once buried deep within. There’s a magic system of sorts, what with the newfound Lux vents that have opened up and drifted to the surface to be twisted and bent into various weapons, tools, and other things…

• But of course, the other one thing The Shattering unearthed is the Mer population that previously knew only the underground. Those guys are free now and a good few of them immediately were like >:O!!! and swam up to see the surface.

• The Down Below is essentially a rift, a primordial abyss were the funkiest, most monstrous Mer continue to dwell, not really eager to introduce themselves to the giant cancer ball in the sky.

•The first strain who left the Down Below looked every bit as Fucked Up as you’d think, but the Down Below is the reason they look the way they do. That place is a Lux-teeming moshpit that can twist and warp the bodies those who dwell in it for too long. It doesn’t bother the mental faculties of those who live there, but returning Mer may find themselves acting… out of sorts if they don’t do some exposure therapy before returning in full,,

• Surface Mer, meanwhile, are versatile creatures who freely and handily change from generation to generation depending on where they live. Those that frequent marshes and swamps tend to thrive in freshwater And seawater, as well as take on the features of fish species predominantly found there. I just want an excuse to make river dolphin Mer, okay

• On the other hand, coral reef Mer who migrate to kelp forests more often than not end up bearing offspring that sport features fit to live in kelp forests. A Marlin Mer can absolutely give birth to Leafy Sea Dragon Mer :)

• The sea amidst the equator is called the Flux, it’s the place where the most open (and unruly) Lux vents open up to be harvested. It’s also the new Arctica/Antarctica, the worlds turned topsy turvy as now the places where the poles should be? They’re hot and remote, while the equator is cold and snowy. A looot of stuff got flipped upside down when the world got scrambled like an egg,,

• In order to reach the people on the other side of the world, you have to go through there, and managing to brave not only the merciless weather and the caustic Lux exposure - but also some of The LARGEST and most RAVANOUS Mer you’ve ever SEEN - is a feat worthy of medallions, parades, and a lifetime supply of coconut rum 💀

• Probably a good time to mention that the more prolonged exposure to Lux, the larger a Mer becomes. Doesn’t matter the species. Imagine a Great White but they live near the equator. Christ 😭

• At this point in the timeline, the surface Mer have managed to establish a shaky relationship with some settlements, and those guys have started to turn their backs on their Down Below brethren. They’re the “Ugly Ones,” why should they sully their relationships with the nice humans that pamper them with free fish and unbothered habitats in return for helping them fish, navigate, and harvest Lux?? Pffffft fuck those guysss

• Those guys are assholes, which makes it harder for Below Mer to try and integrate themselves should the need arise when humans have zero qualms with slaying them should they cause problems. Big yikes 😬

Anyways that’s all for now, that’s the super dee duper basic layout for the setting, though there’s a bunch of details I haven’t fleshed out fully.

[flow-green]

19-08-2021

 “I think I’ve never had more chaotic year than this one,” I confessed one evening when we drove in a car somewhere. My SO gave me a warm look and I checked to the back seat where my Charlie-baby was sleeping. If somone would have told me year and a half ago that 2021 will be a true turnaround in my life, when I will throw away all the life chains and take full control, I would have rolled mye eyes and gotten back to my endless vicious circle of career. I think ever since 17-years old I have followed the norms the society has set up: graduate high school, sprint through university, meanwhile make sure you work so you won’t get drowned in depts, get a job for your field of interest, in the meantime take some loan for some random house and if you have a moment, please, make some babies. Ever since I was a child, I knew right away: that’s not me. I don’t know what it is that makes me want to break these frames. But, oh well, there is no point to raise my voice for my own good as all the other people around me are nicely stable in the system. Some of my exes are on the same line: if you are not a parent by age 31 and do not own a gorgeous house in the suburbs while paying a sickly huge loan, meanwhile ignoring your family, friends and hobbies to make ends meet just so you could work yourself to deah by age 40, then you are a loser.

Few weeks ago in Saaremaa, while tipping my toes and feet into the warm and comforting waters of Estonian sea, I realized where I have drifted with my life. Only now I have started to realized that, f**k me sideways, I am actually a living human being. A LIVING person. I LIVE.

About 2 months ago, near summer solstice, I finally felt the finalizing ticking in my brain that pushed me gently to the edge of unknown. “Will you?” the life asked and motioned me to jump. “Or will you stay here forever, wondering what’s down there?” And so, with shivering hands, I clicked ‘send’ button on the mail that delivered my resignation letter to my boss. Done. Over half a year full of mental terror and a slow suicide will come to an end. At this point I had insane regrets. How am I supposed to throw away an opportunity and 6-year long career just because I do not want to live anymore? Now you’re probably thinking I am being a drama queen and overexaggerating. Oh, dear god, no. There were days, where everything started to tumble down in one go: my love life, my family relations, friends and work relations. On these days I switched myself and my phone off, listened to some serious melancholic tunes, sat alone for hours or drove around with a car and now, admitting for the first time: I hoped that something will happen and I do not need to live here anymore. I admitted this once also in my therapy, that I have frozen up while driving, not really giving a damn about my leg on gas pedal and about the speed.

I am once again a fat, useless, lazy, clumsy, slow and unorganized. Blessed with sore black eyes, a girl with unstable nervs and flaked nails. And all this just to give myself to a work which does not appreciate any sacrifices I make.

And I did it. This is MY life. My path and my decision, I ain’t going anywhere and even if I do, I’ll go with a smile on my face and as a queen for a day.

Few days ago I realized with full heart that this was one of the most important decisions in my life. I went for a run, as I have started to pick it up again. I went and set a goal to run approx 20 minutes. I had time. No rush. Only responsibility waiting for me was one project to improve a home page of our fresh company, but there was no strict deadline nor a passive aggressive boss-lady stalking my every move and making sure I am around even off-hours. So, my 20 minute run became to a 1 hour run, which was successful, nicely progressive and easy. I enjoyed every minute, because I was present. I had nowhere to hurry. I did not worry about the future or the past. I was just excisted. And I breathed.

I think I have cried more this year than in total for all past years. In my 9 to 5 appartment cubical lifestyle I always pushed away everything that demanded at least some movement out of comfort zone. For exaxmple I always closed in when my ex partner had an idea to do some changes. Well, true, his changes did not comply with my dreams. I did not want to get a huge loan to buy a house and sprint out 2 babies just because ,,Martin and Marge had their second kid in their gorgeous house and Martin is only 1 year older than me.” OK, is nice for them I guess? Every time these silly arguments started to come up, I switched myself off into my safety bubble, all alone. I let no emotions, chaotic situatons to influence myself and I just slowly flew on my laid down path, with eyepatches on. I always knew I want something different. I wanted to fight and be heard. Every time there was a conflict at work, with a friend or family member or with a partner, I eliminated it in the early stages and just ignored the rest.

And when these eyepatches were finally removed, everything else followed. I had no pink glasses or filters for emotons. Real life was there for me, but not always in a bad way. Real life offered everything, you only had to have guts to reach out and take it, with all its plusses and minuses. Take it, dominate, take responsibility, but don’t just float by. Get yourself togeter, notice, do, learn and experience. If not now then... when?

This half of a year has thrown so many obstacles and opportunities on my way and I have caught most of them. I guess one of the most difficult period was spending some insane time at a house in the middle of nowhere, without any water or normal comforts. This has made me appreciate small benefts of our everyday life.

I think I have mentioned this earlier as well, that February and March were probaby the hardest months this year. I was given a challenge to overcome and boy, it was tough. Namely, I got pregnant. As a woman who has never wanted to become a mom due to several and long reasons which I will not discuss today, I was in a cocmplete shock. I felt happy, scared, angry. Why now? Universe has its twisted sense of humour and it turned out that the pregnancy is not carriable for medical reasons and abortion is a must. I did not have a single day to stay home and mourn and endure grief. Oh, no, they needed me back to work ASAP. So I ignored the pain of loss and carried on with even more enormous work tempo to keep up. This period started a chain reaction which pulled me cruelsomely to the edge of the cliff. Work does not sleep, it waits impatiently. Even on these two horrible days I had to go through with the process, I did some work since I had become irreplacable.

All the emotions sealed up just blasted out as soon as some smaller bebble hit my bicycle. I cried hysterically, screamed. There were no days where my eyes weren’t bloodshot and with dark underlines.

In some sort of a sick twisted way I felt good, since I was needed, everything depends on me and I am sure it will get paid off nicely in the end when I have worked until my nose bleeds. In this tunnel vision I did not realize that skipped recovery and unresolved grief had made me this maniacal, delusional self-centered zombie, who lived for her workdays. All my free time I spent worrying about next work day. I did not notice anymore how my mom is doing, how are my friends and what is my partner up to. Every time we went off to one of our van trips I just existed somewhere in my thoughts about how much there is still to do. And it’s even more sadder, that I did not even notice myself anymore in the free world.

“Yea, but how would you go on?” was the main question I was asked when with a shaky voice I admitted that I need to quit my job right now and don’t want to take such responsibilities for a while now, only for myself. Everyone can do it. If there is a will, there is a way.

I am happy that I have at least won almost the entire battle with eating disorder, although I have to admint I am not proud over the inner criticizm about my body, which has grown 8 kg heavier since last summer. This means I still have days I hide under baggy clothes and just wait until these dark thoughts pass. There are days where I absolutely veto going to the beach because ‘it’s cold’. Actually I am reminding myself of that year where I had a killer six-pack, hip bones and tiny bikinies fit me so well, but now I look more like a curvy, slightly soft female not nearly showing signs of being physically active. Although, I am now in that golden zone where my weight is not going up nor down almost at all, no matter how much or little or what kind of foods I eat (plant based always of course). I guess it is positive, my body has found it’s perfect zone, but I--- don’t really like it. This mentality here is something now that I have to work with, with all my spare and peaceful time.

Since 25 July I am (f)unemloyed. And happy. I have made sure that I will be secured, will not be homeless and have food and I have a first step of a plan prepared. Priority for now is to help myself out of this destructive black hole that influences not only me but other close ones as well.

I don’t have black shadows under my eyes anymore. I sleep deep, without any random wake ups, I finally have time and motivation to cook, bake and test out recipes that have been collecting dust since forever. From day to day I get back to introduce myself to my long lost hobbies like kite surf, reading, writing, drawing and yoga.

I have finally startrd to realize that next to me there are people that I love unconditionally and to whom I have shown insanely rude attitude. Have you ever felt that re-falling in love again? I am currently feeling it with tripple multiplications, because I have once again fallen in so much love with my dog, my boyfriend and my hero on this topsy-turvy road, my family, friends and life itself.

I will not even take a glance anymore to that 100 promises I made earlier this year. Life is just so much different with completely new challenges. If anything, then I can mark this time period here as my new and fresh chapter for my life.

[turvi]

Hey everyone I have not been feeling ok. Don't worry I'll complete your asks once I feel better. I am not having a great time right now and I'm going offline.

Take care people and please take care of yourself and smile when you can.

I need time because I feel like I'm not myself. Thanks for being patient and see you when I see you

Sorry for the wait to the people who sent me asks I'm not feeling well

[tempestaurora]

the marvel cinematic universe fic rec post

I put some effort into this, let me tell you. The following post contains my favourite fics from the past few months, with many different relationships at the forefront. I’ve even recommended more fics I love from some authors, in case you like their work. Any marked with a * are my absolute faves.

If you see your name here and like your tumblr to be tagged, let me know!

Uncle Steve's Fix-it Freelance Gig (and friends)*  by whowhotellsyourstory

SERIES. A sweet and heartfelt endgame fix it series, in which Morgan Stark asks her Uncle Steve to help bring her father back, and he just can’t say no to her.

Kill Box by Ranni

In which Clint Barton is stuck in an electricity-themed torture cycle for days on end. Heart-wrenching and beautifully written.

Allston Christmas by Gruoch

Incredibly funny fic in which Tony and Rhodey move Peter into his new apartment in Boston.

Tomorrow is another day* by ladynerdynerd @ladynerdynerd

SERIES. A soft and loving look into the life of Tony Stark after the events of Endgame. I recommend the whole series wholeheartedly.

Other fics by this writer: A Tale of Sons and Iron 

Love in Ones and Zeros by forensicleaf

A boy and a bot bond throughout the years. The most beautiful story about DUM-E ever written.

Project: Get Bucky Barnes a Dog* by ruxian

Bucky Barnes does not want a dog. Sam Wilson thinks otherwise. This is a wonderful, soft fic, about a man and his therapy dog.

Impression, Sunrise* by ciaconnaa* @ciaconnaa

Soft and warm and funny. Post-Endgame, Peter and Morgan grow together.

Other fics by this writer: a very, merry unbirthday | Spidey of the Nine-Nine series* | Kiss My Ass*

vouchsafe by sagemb @3wworms

Absolutely hilarious. Tony tries to write Peter’s college recommendation letter.

Other fics by this writer: the house of my father and son

No More Shame* by thepinupchemist

A very sweet fic in which Billy Kaplan helps Bucky Barnes find his way.

Everything, All At Once by ironfamjam

The soulmate au where Tony and Peter see each other in their dreams, but can’t remember it when they wake up. So wonderful I can’t explain.

It's love, this time it's love, my foolish heart by FriendLey

In which Pepper works at an art gallery and Tony keeps buying ugly paintings off her. Genuinely fantastic, absolutely loved it.

Other fics by this writer: Cat-Vengers | Afternoon Snack

Till Forever by seekrest @seek-rest

Super cute short fic about Peter and MJ and a proposal.

Sunlight* by ArdenSkyeHolmes221

Peter struggles reintegrating in his own life after his dad lived five years without him. This one made me feel things, guys.

Independence Day Get-Aways by candlesneedflame @dumbbitchnumberone

It’s the 4th of July, and vigilantes and superheroes alike are abandoning New York like rats from a sinking ship. Peter has no idea why. Very, very good, and then it hit me in the feels at the end.

Other fics by this writer: No Cops at Pride Just Spider-Man

topsy turvy by iron_spider @iron--spider

In which, uh, Peter is buried alive. It’s a gooden though! Like all their fics!

Other fics by this writer: we have ten seconds | this isn’t a game | Stark’s Home for Wayward Animals*

i'll find you in the drift* by tempestaurora* (uh, me)

Tony, Peter and the Pacific Rim AU you really should try out. Giant mechs vs giant aliens, and a lot of heartfelt conversations.

Other fics by this writer me: no cops at pride, just spiderman* | the conspiracy kids series*

i'll make the world safe and sound for you by zipadeea

Tony’s time in Afghanistan, based on my hydra’s not a home series. An incredible fic, super honoured that it was written for my series.

forty miles by peterstank

Cute af. Morgan is sick and Peter comes to lend a hand.

Avengers Vandal by awesomesockes and whumphoarder

Fourteen dicks were spray painted across thirteen cars and an Iron Man suit. Clint Barton gets the blame. A ‘cockumentary’ by Ned Leeds and Peter Parker. A fantastic American Vandal parody you all need to read.

part by part by lazywriter7

Heartbreaking and wonderful and beautiful. A story about Nebula and a story about love.

Hush (For It Is Dark) by losingmymindtonight @losingmymindtonight

Tony Stark, lullaby extraordinare. So incredibly soft.

Hot Ones: Spider-Man in the Hot Seat by Jenniboo311

A Hot Ones interview with Spider-Man. Better than the actual thing. 

timshel* by justanotherblond

SERIES. Peter is Bucky’s son, and he is raised to be a Hydra agent. This is how that goes. A beautiful, BEAUTIFUL series about love and fathers and sons and being hollow shells of people, with so much inside that’s desperate to come out.I absolutely adore this series.

t-shirts by KiwisAndTea

SERIES. A collection of one shots about Peter’s favourite t-shirts.

tony stark wanting to die but it's 10 minutes long by jophieso

The Tower’s security footage is leaked, and instead of finding anything classified, the internet just makes compilations of Tony Stark, staring into the camera with dead eyes like he’s on The Office. A true gift to the fandom.

the stars the moon they have all been blown out (you left me in the dark)* by madasthesea @madasthesea

Tony inhales a drug that makes him go blind... and deaf... and mute... and Peter’s going to save him. I mean, hoo boy you knew this one would be here. A++++

Damage Control by PechoraFlow

An incredible fic set after the Coney Island scene in Homecoming. What if Peter isn’t as unscathed as he thought he was?

Hawks Are Supposed To Eat Spiders by robin_writes

Clint, Peter, and the vents. Highkey recommend.

[hong-kong-art-man]

Never Good At Drawing? Let Ray Chow Break Your Padlock: Why Should You Paint?   

Movie star Karena Lam(林嘉欣)once said, “I love art. I can see a lot of fascinating possibilities from a drawing.”

Drawing is the art of representing, perhaps interpreting, an object, a scene or even a dream; or outlining a figure, plan or sketch by means of lines, colours and rendering of light and shadow. Does it sound full of twists and turns?

For drawing, painting or art jamming, whatever it may mean exactly, professional excellence is one slice and fun is the other. How do you put yourself in-between the slices is all up to you. Being critical of art is a way of showing respect to art. Being critical of you while your drawing is just for fun shows your friend’s ignorance. Do not be shy and try to draw out your true power. You, however, shall not torture your friends with your not-up-to-standard paintings by any exhibition which is intended as a show-off!

Ray Chow came from the Chinese Mainland to Hong Kong at the age of 3. Boys were ruled by toys. His parents could not afford buying him toys. Ray drew toys including cars and hero figures to satisfy his fantasy. Probably as a result, he excelled at painting and art became his best school subject. After obtaining an art degree from Shanghai University in 2013, he earned a living by doing odd jobs such as design freelancer and installation worker. Ray said, “We are young. We should put life first and build enough life experience to choose a career later that we really want.” Finally, he wanted to be an art teacher for adults. His workshop is in Queen’s Road East.

I asked, “Why do adults want to learn painting?” Ray replied, “There are 2 answers: interest and feeding the soul. Painting lessons are a very positive activity because they give pleasure. The fascination and ebullience from lines, colours and shapes on a canvas are great fun, wonderfully relaxing and can help reduce your stress levels.”

I queried, “How about soul?” Ray said, “Drawing is a very focused spiritual process for 3 to 4 hours. It makes your emotions flow from your soul to the painting. You suddenly feel peace, happiness and self-assurance within the topsy-turvy world.”

I wondered, “Why are most of your pupils female?” Ray retaliated with a joke, “Perhaps I look Korean, the popular kind of handsomeness nowadays. Ha, the truth is that ladies are ready to find a way to express themselves emotionally, either to communicate to herself or others in a very personalized visual language.” I laughed, “Men are shy, almost like an autistic child—no matter how extrovert he may look.”

We are machines in a modern society. Art makes us more human. Robots based on artificial intelligence will provide the future with more machines, able and shrewd. We do not need more human machines.

Ray sipped an iced latte, “Another benefit is therapy. Painting is a therapeutic process, especially when we can have a painting group outing away from workshops. It is a mental rest that helps out dump anxiety and fear.” I agreed, “Arts therapy becomes the alternative way to tackle mental disorders such as Asperger’s syndrome.”

Ray said, “Hong Kong is a materialistic financial centre and money-making is the sole goal in life for many. People do not go to museums or art galleries. I hope art museums here can oragnise more attractive programs and activities for us particularly the kids. Encouraging people to paint in a museum is surely a great idea. For adults, we look at a work of art and imagine if we were the artist, what would we have done differently in order to give our own interpretation of the artwork. For kids, they can be allowed to sit on the floor and use colour pencils to draw. They can pick and draw an object from a museum exhibit creatively. It promotes a child’s concentration ability and visual acuity of mind. Storytelling will be the additional spiritual fun.”

No matter what money throws your way and no matter how busy you may seem, please refuse to be just an eating, playing and money-making animal. Be a winner of work-life balance. Walk through whatever life throws your way with the possibility of art. If your life is without art, look for a class. Paint now!

MLee 

[scentedluminarysoul]

Can 2020, like, stop? I only have so little things left to enjoy, now another is ripped away...

https://observer.com/2020/10/chris-pratt-avengers-mark-ruffalo-robert-downey-jr/

Feminist philosopher Kate Manne has argued that in our culture there is a powerful impulse to “himpathy.” By this she means that people tend to empathize with and identify with powerful men, and to want to defend them. Chris Pratt is a wealthy, successful heterosexual white movie star. The people criticizing him are mostly much less powerful, not famous and in many cases queer. Ruffalo and Downey, Jr. are of course friends with Pratt personally. For them the harm of being made fun of in a meme, and of being called out for bigotry, looms much larger than the consequences of systemic homophobia. Thanks to the topsy-turvy effects of himpathy and personal ties, Pratt to them seems like the victim, and so they feel they need to swoop in to save him, superhero style.

What I will say on the matter:

He also said: “My values define who I am.

He’s attending a homophobic megachurch. IF his ‘values’ were not aligned with that, he would attend/join a different church, no? One that wasn’t homophobic, that didn’t support conversion therapy torture, that actually supports LGBTQ+ people. He doesn’t, though. He’s defending this church. And not the people hurt by it.

[richincolor]

New Releases

Five new books and a sequel that I personally am so excited for. Which of these novels are going on your TBR list?

A Dream So Dark (A Blade So Black #2) by L.L. McKinney Imprint

Still reeling from her recent battle (and grounded until she graduates) Alice must cross the Veil to rescue her friends and stop the Black Knight once and for all. But the deeper she ventures into Wonderland, the more topsy-turvy everything becomes. It’s not until she’s at her wits end that she realizes—Wonderland is trying to save her.

There’s a new player on the board; a poet capable of using Nightmares to not only influence the living but raise the dead. This Poet is looking to claim the Black Queen’s power—and Alice’s budding abilities—as their own.

Dreams have never been so dark in Wonderland, and if there is any hope of defeating this mystery poet’s magic, Alice must confront the worst in herself, in the people she loves, and in the very nature of fear itself. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Who Put This Song On? by Morgan Parker Delacorte Press

Trapped in sunny, stifling, small-town suburbia, seventeen-year-old Morgan knows why she’s in therapy. She can’t count the number of times she’s been the only non-white person at the sleepover, been teased for her “weird” outfits, and been told she’s not “really” black. Also, she’s spent most of her summer crying in bed. So there’s that, too.

Lately, it feels like the whole world is listening to the same terrible track on repeat—and it’s telling them how to feel, who to vote for, what to believe. Morgan wonders, when can she turn this song off and begin living for herself?

Life may be a never-ending hamster wheel of agony, but Morgan finds her crew of fellow outcasts, blasts music like there’s no tomorrow, discovers what being black means to her, and finally puts her mental health first. She decides that, no matter what, she will always be intense, ridiculous, passionate, and sometimes hilarious. After all, darkness doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Darkness is just real. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Six Goodbyes We Never Said by Candace Ganger Wednesday Books

Two teens meet after tragedy and learn about love, loss, and letting go

Naima Rodriguez doesn’t want your patronizing sympathy as she grieves her father, her hero—a fallen Marine. She’ll hate you forever if you ask her to open up and remember him “as he was,” though that’s all her loving family wants her to do in order to manage her complex OCD and GAD. She’d rather everyone back the-eff off while she separates her Lucky Charms marshmallows into six, always six, Ziploc bags, while she avoids friends and people and living the life her father so desperately wanted for her.

Dew respectfully requests a little more time to process the sudden loss of his parents. It’s causing an avalanche of secret anxieties, so he counts on his trusty voice recorder to convey the things he can’t otherwise say aloud. He could really use a friend to navigate a life swimming with pain and loss and all the lovely moments in between. And then he meets Naima and everything’s changed—just not in the way he, or she, expects.

Candace Ganger’s Six Goodbyes We Never Said is no love story. If you ask Naima, it’s not even a like story. But it is a story about love and fear and how sometimes you need a little help to be brave enough to say goodbye. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Slay by Brittney Morris Simon Pulse

By day, seventeen-year-old Kiera Johnson is an honors student, a math tutor, and one of the only Black kids at Jefferson Academy. But at home, she joins hundreds of thousands of Black gamers who duel worldwide as Nubian personas in the secret multiplayer online role-playing card game, SLAY. No one knows Kiera is the game developer, not her friends, her family, not even her boyfriend, Malcolm, who believes video games are partially responsible for the “downfall of the Black man.”

But when a teen in Kansas City is murdered over a dispute in the SLAY world, news of the game reaches mainstream media, and SLAY is labeled a racist, exclusionist, violent hub for thugs and criminals. Even worse, an anonymous troll infiltrates the game, threatening to sue Kiera for “anti-white discrimination.”

Driven to save the only world in which she can be herself, Kiera must preserve her secret identity and harness what it means to be unapologetically Black in a world intimidated by Blackness. But can she protect her game without losing herself in the process? — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

The Tenth Girl by Sara Faring Imprint

Simmering in Patagonian myth, The Tenth Girl is a gothic psychological thriller with a haunting twist.

At the very southern tip of South America looms an isolated finishing school. Legend has it that the land will curse those who settle there. But for Mavi—a bold Buenos Aires native fleeing the military regime that took her mother—it offers an escape to a new life as a young teacher to Argentina’s elite girls.

Mavi tries to embrace the strangeness of the imposing house—despite warnings not to roam at night, threats from an enigmatic young man, and rumors of mysterious Others. But one of Mavi’s ten students is missing, and when students and teachers alike begin to behave as if possessed, the forces haunting this unholy cliff will no longer be ignored.

One of these spirits holds a secret that could unravel Mavi’s existence. In order to survive she must solve a cosmic mystery—and then fight for her life. 

[whattoreadinsteadofdrinking]

It’s been a weird week or so.  I vacillate between a huge outpouring of generous goodwill and tender joy towards my students, my house, my friends, my life; and general apathy that bleeds slowly into bitterness and sometimes outright anger at anything that rouses me from said apathy by requiring my attention (usually this is students.)  

I want to get excited for Christmas but I have a lot of fear around the holidays this year because it will be the first time I make it through sober (if I make it) (God PLEASE let me make it).  Last year my grandmother died, almost exactly a year ago, and I drank.  And then I stopped. And then it was Christmas eve, and I was writing frantically on Tumblr on my phone all evening, because I was surrounded by family but felt so so alone, and I drank.  I drank a LOT, like a lot a lot, but it didn’t get me drunk, which was simultaneously a relief and a disappointment.  Christmas morning, my sister and her fiancee were so hungover, and I was not, and it felt like a vicious type of revenge against them, for making me feel so lonely by their couple-ness (inadvertent) and their choice to tell me they’d come to Christmas eve church with me, then get there and stay for one song and then say “we’re going to go get coffee and we’ll meet you at the end” and left (purposeful.) I sat there alone for the remainder of the service.  Crying.  It was not cute.

Christmas is a Whole Lot of Feelings because it’s about the triumph of light over darkness and that is very beautiful.  It also means having to acknowledge the darkness in the first place, and that’s hard.  I find myself reflecting on how shitty the world is, how deeply broken it is, like to the core.  I find myself reflecting on the same state in myself.  But there is a certain beauty to it.  After all, the light is more beautiful in contrast to the dark.  My roommates and I and some friends put up our Christmas tree yesterday and it is covered in rainbow twinkle lights (my choice) and is very pretty, twinkling away.  But the lights are way prettier when it’s dark and the room has no other light in it.  They cast shadows from the tree branches on the wall, a repeating refrain of green, pink, blue, and orange branch-shapes, huge and luminous.  It’s lovely.  And it couldn’t be that lovely without the dark.  

I guess I’m painstakingly trying to illuminate to myself that the dark parts of me, just let the light shine that much brighter.  I feel unlovable lately, which is not normal for me.  Part of it is therapy-- I’ve finally been going regularly enough and my therapist this time around is focused enough, that we are tackling the root issues I deal with instead of just my behaviors.  We have moved, in short, from talking about ways for me to deal with my drinking and depression, to talking about why I want to drink in the first place.  It is hard fucking work.  It hurts.  It is working-- I feel stronger, more reliable, able to see value in myself-- but getting through the shit that brought me here is like opening a wound.  I am willing to do it, I need to do it.  I’m glad to be doing it, because I know that I am changing.  But changing requires me to challenge the beliefs I’ve taken for granted about myself, and that means acknowledging them-- I have to acknowledge that I feel unworthy of care and love, if I want to move towards valuing myself.  Doing so takes a lot of courage.  And as my therapist says, even showing up to the work shows that I must value myself greatly-- because it’s hard work and I wouldn’t do it for someone I didn’t love very much (myself.)

This has been long and rambly and full of angst but if you read this far-- I hope you are doing well.  I hope the dark season isn’t getting you down, and that the weird holiday feels aren’t yanking you topsy-turvy.  If you’re sober, stay strong.  We only need to outlast the dark one day at a time.  I’ll put up some twinkle lights in your honor.  I’ll leave the lights on for you.

[at-the-exd-of-everythixg]

Drink up baby to Finn!

@thecorteztwins

"Fab'bean," Finn's eyes were hazy but his ears still flopped about as he tilted his head. He felt...tipsy turvy, like his whole world was spinning. He wasn't too sure if he liked it and Finn could see why his parents didn't want him to drink, he didn't think he'd be able to vomit if he needed to either.

Where was he going again with this?...Oh! "I th-think you need...a therapy animal. 'Cause Sebastian is really busy with Sho'bee and Haven has lots'a kids to take care of and you need something t'help your emotions after your mom left you...probably she did." Finn said this knowingly, giving the taller man a pat on the back and forgetting to reign in some of his more superish strength. "Don't worry! M'sure you're not banned from certain pet shops! And girls like animals so maybe you won't be asked to leave places early!"