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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"only when the surrounding parts are darker can you see brightness" my hyune :( i agree so so much with him
this will sound silly but i like to think of my mind as a garden. i plant flowers there, i water them, i try to make sure they get enough light. and sometimes the flowers are vibrant, and it smells really nice in my garden. but at times there are storms and too much rain, and not enough sun, and the flowers wither down. and sometimes the bad times last for a long while, and bad seeds grow in the soil, by my hands or by other people, and the toxic roots intertwine with the healthy ones, and the entire garden is contaminated. but i can always start again, i can cut the harmful plants, and the sun will come. and the flowers will bloom again. doesn't mean im a bad gardener. it's my first time gardening. im doing my best. we're all doing our best. we're all learning. it's the time we spend waiting for the petals to unfurl that make us happy when the flowers finally bloom.
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Hi! I'm new! Nice to meet you fizzlea! I'm @lathanworldz I was asking if you do requests art for free?
Nope <:)
I usually take commission for art done for others, but I'm currently in a small hiatus for my own mental health.
I'm focusing on drawing things for myself instead!!
If you're still looking to get some OC art drawn from me, I'm offering some emote YCHs [which you can look at here if you're interested in that sort of thing.]
If not, that's okay! I'll eventually be back to doing commissions, and I'll be sure to make a post about it when I am.
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the way matt creates these emotionally** flat??? characters who have family attachments to the main pcs and yet there's just something.... off about the way they display intimacy that it equally angers me, makes my skin crawl, and makes me just want to write extensively on what a master storyteller matt is. the way he presents just in this campaign alone, parental figures that on paper can easily be defended and rallied behind somehow especially if their choices played out more negatively than they intended*, and yet actually experiencing people who you, individually, care so much about in your life and who, you would just naturally believe, would also care so much about you, but there's a blip on the monitor and a disconnect that at first is so infinitesimal. until it's not. until you get bruised deeper and they look at you the same. and it's like there's no true empathetic connection. from your "loved one". it's not malice, it's not heartless or calloused, it's just.... it's surface-level and it's crossed t's and dotted i's and you know that they do not mean it to hurt you. but they also don't really mean it when they tell you they love you. and it aches so incredibly well done that matt will have these figures look into the eyes of their own and say the words and have a softness in their face, and yet have no genuine fierceness to the love they claim for someone who has so much love for them. and it's not a criticism, it's just so well done because it's such a nuanced relationship in the world and it sucks but matt always delivers it so perfectly
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does anyone wanna see a preview of my hoffstrahm Christmas fluff fic too bad you're getting one
“So you’re a cop?”
“I’m a detective, yeah.”
“But you have a gun? Like a real gun?”
“Yup.”
“And you get to shoot it at people?”
“Uh—” Hoffman smiles awkwardly, fingers wrapped around the mug of coffee Henry handed off to him moments before. (It’s one of Marie’s holiday-themed ones, and says “Christmas calories don’t count” accompanied by a picture of a smiling, half-eaten gingerbread man. Strahm’s always found that one kind of morbid.) “I wouldn’t use the words ‘get to,’ but if the situation calls for it…”
“Have you ever killed anyone?” Ethan asks with the sort of wide-eyed stare little boys get when they’re really interested in hearing a violent answer to something.
“Okay, let’s not talk about that sort of thing,” Marie laughs from her spot on a recliner. Henry sits on the arm of it, hand on her shoulder, and she, in turn, has her hand pressed to his. “It’s Christmas. Happy questions, okay? Does anyone have any happy questions for Mark?”
Strahm wonders when this turned into “Grill Peter’s Spouse: The Game Show,” but Hoffman seems to be taking it in stride, smiling there beside him.
“Do you— do you— do you solve mysteries?” Liam asks, sitting on the floor at his mother’s feet, fidgeting with a plush toy she must have brought from home with her to keep him occupied.
“Yeah,” Hoffman says. “Real tough ones.”
Liam looks blown away, gaping up at him. “Like Sherlock Holmes?”
The adults all share a laugh, and Hoffman says, “Just like him.”
“Don’t give him too much credit,” Strahm scoffs. “When he can’t do his job right, they send in me to figure it out instead.”
“You’re a detective too?” Liam asks, reverent, because of course the kid he only sees a few times a year, who’s barely in school, can’t remember what his actual occupation is. Hell, it’s a shock Liam seemed to remember him by name this year, instead of last year’s Christmas gathering, when he was simply dubbed “The Scary Man.”
“FBI,” Strahm says, and despite how much he hates his shithole job sometimes, saying that still gives him just the barest hint of a swell of pride. The badge means something, when you use it right.
“That means he works for the government,” Sofia says with a grave nod. Sharp as a tack at nine years old, she’s also a bit of a know-it-all, but then, so was Strahm at that age. Does it count as being a know-it-all if you’re always right, he wonders?
“So that’s how you met?” asks Charlotte, Robert’s wife. “Through work?”
“That’s the long and short of it,” Hoffman says. “He came in, stole all my thunder, then stole my heart.”
That gets another round of chuckles, and even a few annoying “awww”s. God damn Hoffman for being so personable and easy to like. Can’t he see Strahm has sulking to do here?
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Today is hard again.
Pet loss TW below the cut.
Yesterday was better, thanks to Daredevil and Echo being a distraction, but today, there were just a couple things that hit me in a row.
Cato's ashes are ready to be picked up, along with his little pawprint. I want so badly to have him here. But there's also a part of me that doesn't want to go. Because if I do, if I go and pick him up in that little urn, that's it. It's official. My old kitten chow is gone. And bless the vet hospital because when I quietly said thank you and that I'd try not to cry when picking him up, they told me they understood, and I didn't have to worry about that.
Then my general vet, who is amazing and had been helping us keep Cato comfortable, also sent us this card which arrived today. And she included a small poem of the rainbow bridge, and some local pet loss support groups. So I cried over that for a while.
And then a final package arrived today from one of my friends and her family - a frame, with a space on one side for a picture of Cato, with a customized Pawprints poem on the other side. And then I just cried all over again, especially because the poem is so relevant - I did have to let him go. And I was there for him as he went, and it was peaceful, he did drift off, all while purring in my arms as I stared into his big blue eyes one last time. So then I had to go cry over that.
I'm grateful for all of it. But god does it still hurt, and I miss him so, so much.
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