I swear I have read your big post regarding Peter Parker's neurodivergence and why it is best to avoid labelling him, but he definitely has a weird brain
Can't find it and feel kinda sad about it cuz I deeply related to it
i know exactly which post you're talking about and i can't find it either! i've raked through my archive, and it's just - nowhere to be seen. i think tumblr eated it (it happens.)
really, tumblr's search functionality is so so useless, i don't know what to tell you. there are plenty of keywords i can search to find it that post, but the search functionality actually just does not work!
undiagnosed audhd-addled peter parker, my darling, my light, my life, my everything.
i think peter parker's such an interesting creature to write, because a lot of people will point to a certain behaviour about him and say "this is an autistic thing, right?" but a lot of those behaviours are actually, in my head, tied to certain traumas in peter's life too.
people say "oh, the food thing, peter's a picky eater because he's autistic" and yes, absolutely. but also it's tied to his trauma with his parents.
peter gets overstimulated, and yes, it's an autism thing, but also he was bitten by a radioactive spider and his senses are dialled to 11.
it's a similar case i've found for myself, too – where a lot of friends i have kind of diagnose me because i have autistic traits, but actually - i'm hesitant to claim the label or pursue diagnosis because, actually, i know where these certain behaviours come from, and they come from certain traumas. there are events i can pinpoint in my life and say "yep. that's where this behaviour comes from."
so - i think there's a lot of overlap between trauma and autistic traits. the brain is very complex! i think the reason for that overlap is maybe as simple as the fact that people with autism and people with trauma are both doing the same thing - developing behaviours to protect themselves or soothe themselves. so - i think it's nice to be able to see a character like peter parker, who may or may not be autistic, but recognise behaviours in him and see yourself in him.
people who go undiagnosed for whatever reason - people who are really good at masking - so good, in fact, that they have no idea they might be on the spectrum - everyone and anyone at all can look at peter parker and recognise themselves. because i think we discredit the thought that every single brain does the same thing! develops certain behaviours in order to survive. every brain has that same software - we've just all been faced with different hardships that we need to overcome, and that's were all the differences come in.
autism is a spectrum, i guess - everyone falls into it to some degree. and i think events in your life probably push you along on it. but i don't know, i didn't study brain science. probably what i'm saying is very stupid and uninformed. of course there's brain chemistry involved. but i know people in my life living with autism and certain events in their life have exacerbated certain behaviours or made coping with it a lot more difficult. so maybe trauma is a catalyst.
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Illinoise (the ballet/musical based on Sufjan Stevens' album Illinois) is eying a move to Broadway after its current NY run in Armory Park ends and im just imagining it taking off among the bway Fandom because 1 it's fucking amazing 2 it's gay and sad and will make you cry (but doesn't bury its gays) 3 the characters are broad enough that fanon can do literally whatever it wants with them
But then we'd have a whole Fandom obsessed with esoteric Illinois history which would be so fucking funny.
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years ago a cleric said to a tiefling "don't touch me!" And it spawned a long frienemyship. Now years later. The phrase is repeated....but between fwbuddies instead
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With the powers I've been granted as a creator and owner of this very wonderful and logical rizz tl I have declared shattered joined the battle! I mean harem... so— Epic is such a rizzler he traveled through godam timelines to find a new bitch ..harem member?
Even funnier, I mean more fun, this Shattered killed his own Cross and Epic during the chaotic moments of his corruption ;3 ISN'T THAT FUN? 👁️w👁️
Shattered needs time processing the oddly reindeer like skeleton is similar to the oddly skeleton like reindeer.... I'm sure he'll be fine. Dream needs time to process there's another him— also u know the tension(problems?? I'm learning words gimme a sec) between Error and the Dreamtale twins? It's even worse between him and shattered... just how many times have they held shattered back from killing Error?
Shattered isn't like all that great around the harem.. and a little odd around the reindeer because despite that rizz he's still an oddly reindeer like skeleton similar to the oddly skeleton like reindeer. Aand a little protective over his not brother brother, Nightmare because of should be obvious reasons... But he's having a better time... at least he isnt eternally suffering anymore :( **proceeds to make him suffer more/....j ☺️
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To be honest, stardew valley has me in such a chokehold. It always has, even before the 1.6.
In such a way that my brain wants to smash my hyperfixation into it. So late at night I'll be awake thinking of this stardew/south park mashup.
Call that bad boy Star Park AU.
But no brain! Bad! We already have too much going on! You have a Secret Soulmate AU. Fantasy AU, A Cowboy AU story staring Kenny that's still in the outline phase, and these one shots!
(Look at the tags to watch me descent into madness)
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WIP Snip
still working so hard on getting this finished, still slow as fuck and feeling a bit ashamed of it but i know that's just bad brain thinking. had a bit of good writing news this week too though so it's not all bad. Here's a snip from my multiverse fic where Voldemort didn't die and there's a war raging on, Wolfstar live and they raised Harry, and Draco has just rejoined the Order after seven years abroad in France. Here's a scene with good dad Sirius.
“This—“ Sirius said, waving his hands at Harry “—is what I’m talking about. One of the many things I love about you is that you just say things like this, and you mean them.” He put his warm hand on Harry’s chest. “I sometimes wonder how you've managed to stay so kind, after all you’ve been through. Your parents would love you so much, you know.”
“Well,” Harry muttered, voice brusque to hide the tightness in his throat, “they’d have to really, wouldn’t they? Being my parents, and all.”
“They’d love you as their son, no matter what, of course. But I mean that they’d love you as a person in your own right, Harry. You’ve grown into a man that anyone would be proud to follow.”
Harry put his own hand up to grope for Sirius’s, still resting over his heart, grateful for the darkness.
“You’re not following me, though. You’re with me—you, and Moony, and Ron, and Hermione, and everyone. We’re all together in this. We do this side-by-side, it’s why it works. I’m not some big leader like Voldemort set out to be. I’m just the guy who happens to be the one who has to kill him. Everything else is a team effort.”
“Oh, Harry,” Sirius said, and then Harry found himself wrapped up in Sirius’s arms, face full of all that fine, silky hair, savouring the warm solid familiar feel of him for a lovely moment, before Sirius let him go again. “Now do you see why we don’t want to let you go off somewhere with Malfoy? We need you.”
Harry looked up at the house, at the long dark arm of the east wing, where he knew Malfoy’s bedroom was, a low light still burning as though Malfoy wasn’t expecting to sleep any time soon. He couldn’t tell Sirius that Malfoy needed him, because Malfoy needing him was based on a secret that couldn’t be shared, even with the people Harry loved the most. It wasn’t his to tell.
Instead, he reached out again until his hand met Sirius’s forearm, ropey with muscle, always so warm.
“I love you, you know,” he said. High above them, at the lighted window, a shadow passed.
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I freaking love your au and your latest comic because MAN
I FELT THOSE LAST WORDS AND I WAS LIKE "OH FUCK"
First panel was already a bit unsettling itself - like you get it's just intimate manners as you do as a couple but he felt so possessive already and
Sunny's inner thoughts
I'm sure 100% his abandonment anxiety will increase drastically the more he stays with nick and honestly slay
I mean it's kinda obvious
But like I felt that
Yeah
Nick is unhinged
Nick is crazy
Y'all are gay for him
Good 😵💥
Sunny has soooo many issues. So many of them. He's so vulnerable and he makes himself vulnerable to Nick while still being intimidated by him, it's... Dude's got some problems.
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stealing post because i NEED to post it otherwise id go insane
if you want me to take it down i can @ghostypeppers
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"this character is dead in canon to you, but not to me" well this character is dead as fuck to me. decaying in a hole in the ground. turning pretty putrid colors. to me their absence impacts the narrative in ways canon could not possibly hope to engage with. i'm gonna write so much morbid canon-compliant fanfiction about this character. even if they're not dead in canon they're dead to me. that's how i like it
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Also thinking about hometowns again because im visiting tomorrow
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I think the part that annoys me the most about people complaining about Mine still being alive is that people are reacting as if the revived characters in 7 had major plot important roles??? Kashiwagi does a lot, but even then. You can argue back and forth over whether or not it diminishes character deaths, but don’t sit there and act as if the ones brought back are right there on Ichiban’s party and having new stories about them. It’s pretty obnoxious, honestly. The QRTs of the Tweet are either fans shouting in glee or acting like everything is over.
i personally think RGG should just pull a kingdom hearts 3 and bring back every dead bitch ever just for laughs
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//pov ur about to get mugged
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Ugh I love my friend so much, we met like seven years ago and were close for a while until covid fucked the whole group chat over and being in contact became rarer, and now we met by coincidence in a sports class I was just about ready to quit and just then she walked in through the door, so now I just have to go and we see each other at least once a week, this week even twice for food, and she says thank you for waiting for the bus with her like she's not the one letting me talk her ear off and like I wouldn't happily stand in the cold for an hour if it meant I got to spend more time with her and get a hug goodbye 🥺
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"You've flowers in your hair," Astra said, and Susurrus turned to her, a wide grin on his face.
"A helm fit only for the bravest and most noble of warriors, milady," he said, melodramatic and overflowing with delight. The child riding on his shoulders giggled as she wove yet another blossom into his coppery locks. Astra found herself staring, in part admiring the contrast of the delicate, slightly squished blooms against the regal lines and planes of his handsome face. And yet, she also found herself captivated by the way he interacted with the children. Susurrus was the most powerful combative mage in the armies under her command, ruthless and efficient on the battlefield. Yet here he was, children dangling off of him and a smile fit to outshine the sun swallowing his hazel eyes.
Another child hit him at the knees and he tumbled, careful and controlled so as not to harm the little ones that clung to his arms. Astra did not see how it was done, but despite no less than two gangly, uncoordinated bodies weighing each limb down, Susurrus managed to flip the child riding his shoulders so that she landed on his chest. His rich, sonorous laughter rang around the plaza like bells, accompanied by the raucous laughter of the children.
"I've been felled!" Susurrus said through his laughter, and the young lad who'd downed him leapt onto him, a battle cry in his throat that sent the other children scrambling. "Have mercy, have mercy!"
Astra found herself giggling as the other children ran past her, dispersing themselves around the plaza and hiding in garden beds and flowering bushes to prepare for a merry game of chase. But she had need of Susurrus, and so clapped her hands to get the children's collective attention focused on her.
"Come along now," she said, "don't you all have lessons to attend?"
The unanimous whine that met her words forced her to smother a smile. But a stern glance from Susurrus sent them scattering to the winds, off to seek some other entertainment for the day. Astra offered her hands to Susurrus to help him up, marveled at the warmth and gentleness in them belied by the rough calluses and scars he'd earned through battle.
"Bad news?" he asked, running his fingers through his hair. Each flower dislodged was gathered and carefully cradled in his free hand, held tenderly so as not to crush them.
"Nothing we hadn't anticipated," Astra assured him, even as her eyes tracked a delicate, yellow, star-shaped blossom. He noticed her attention on the bloom, and reached out to tuck it behind her ear. Though the gentle smile he gave her held a hint of harsh steel underneath, Astra breathed easier to see it.
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When talking to an Azula hater: She's fourteen, she's abused, she's awesome, she deserves better, she's allowed to murder if she wants
When talking to an Azula stan: She's ruthless, she uses people without care, she abuses her brother and her friends, she's fucking evil, she doesn't get a free pass just because you like her
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rue goes off on their own, maybe to live in the court of craft, not lonely necessarily, surrounded by friends, but feeling particular absences at both their left side and their right. hob remains by lady syl's side, withering but fully believing rue had lied to him about their feelings. wuvvy remains in the court of wonder, cleaning up from the last bloom and preparing the next, diving herself head-first into her work to forget herself, as she always tries to.
wuvvy tries to hide behind the master of ceremonies title to avoid rue at the next bloom (suddenly she understands the strategy rue had assumed for most of their existence, how lovely a shield it can be, to pretend one is being called away when one is simply running), ends up literally dipping from some indoor event or other, maybe a themed dinner, only to step outside the palace to find hob smoking out on the steps by himself, which. when did he start smoking? and why does he look so drained when he tilts his head to look at her, then just turns back to the night sky above them? a political marriage for an old soldier. isn't that the good ending? better than martyrdom, right? right?
hob holds his cigarette up to wuvvy. and that is all it is. a cigarette. wuvvy stares at the red pin of it burning for a moment before she steps forward, plucks it from his clawed fingers, and takes a long drag. she sits down. neither of them speak. both of them are breathing the same smoke. it probably says something that neither of them cough.
"sorry for poisoning you," wuvvy says after the third or fourth pass, remembering their duel.
hob just sniffs. "it was fair play."
they pass back and forth until the nub of the cigarette is almost embarrassing to keep holding onto. hob inspects it for a moment, watching it sizzle out against itself, probably thinking about eating it. he just flicks it out into the night. they sit out there still longer, though the excuse both of them are hinging their absence on is now ash mixing with dirt on the ground before them.
there is a kind of bitter solidarity to it. neither would necessarily have sought the other out for comfort, but each can tell that the other is avoiding something inside. wuvvy finds herself wishing she had a cigarette of her own to offer the captain - the major, she remembers, blinking toward him inquisitively - just to keep the moment going. just another cigarette. just a passing of their mutual stresses silently between each other's mouths.
hob has not looked at her since he flicked out the cigarette. he's staring out somewhere into the distance. wuvvy follows his gaze, squinting into the night, and she thinks it might be somewhere toward the seafoam court, but she can't be sure.
"do you ever think about it?" hob asks after a moment.
his voice is gravelly and deep. wuvvy looks toward him, waiting for him to elaborate, but he doesn't. admittedly, he doesn't need to. what else has there been to think about, really, ever since it all happened? that bloom. that terrible, wonderful bloom. "all the time," she admits.
hob sighs heavily. the volume and force of it reminds wuvvy of a working animal, like a draft horse. she wonders how big and how pink his lungs are. he says nothing more than that.
some time passes before eventually he stands, heads in first, what a mercy. as he does, he hesitates inside the door. only turning his head halfway toward her, he says, "take your time. i'll find some excuse for you."
the door closes behind him with a heavy click before wuvvy can even think to thank him. she stares at the wood for a moment, then leans her elbows on her knees and rests her face in her hands. she wishes she had had another cigarette.
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