quiescens:

leopharry:

I have decided on a new constellation. I call it The Bees. If you look up at the night sky and see all those sparkly dots, congratulations. You see The Bees. I have just made astrology 10000x easier, you’re welcome.

those born under the sign of the bees:

• have emotions
• think thoughts
• is likely introverted or extroverted
• has at least a few friends
• was born at some point

adamtots:

adamtots:

send butt pix before the purge

oh lord

kkaruna:

Recommended

Well done!

hillbillyoracle:

If you frequent online forums or social media spaces where people ask for advice, let’s talk about why “get a therapist” is an actively harmful response. 

Therapy is fucking expensive - even if you have insurance.

I don’t really get why people are so loathe to grapple with this fact. My partner has good insurance for our area and pays $240 a month in copays to see a therapist. Her psychiatrist is refusing to make changes to her medications until she signs up for a type of group therapy which will bring the monthly mental health costs up to ~$500 a month. Again - this is with insurance. This is a strain on our particular budget as two people with multiple disabilities and a dog with epilepsy. 

Therapy without insurance is wild. My partner saw a therapist who was out of network for a while and it was easily ~$1000 a month out of pocket. We could only afford it at the time because we stripped everything back and still dug into savings. 

And if you’re hearing those numbers and thinking “well that doesn’t sound so bad - wtf are you spending the rest of your money on?” one - you’re wildly out of touch with what most people make right now and two - you’re furthering the idea that people struggling financially have to prove themselves to other people before they’re worthy of being believed or taken seriously. That’s not progressive at all. 

When you tell someone who cannot afford therapy to get a therapist, it intensifies the shame of the person struggling. It is not an anti-capitalist response - it furthers the idea that well they just wouldn’t be in this boat if they made more money. It’s the toxic intersection of classism and ableism. 

They may already have a therapist. People shouldn’t be forced to disclose.

The assumption that anyone suffering and looking to the collective for help doesn’t have a therapist fuels this idea that therapists are basically magic pills. They are not. 

When you tell someone who’s already seeing a therapist that they should get a therapist - it’s defeating as fuck to hear. It furthers the feeling that they’re doing something wrong if going to therapy isn’t working - again intensifying shame. It also lets that person know, you’re not a person who understands the very real limitations of therapy and therefore aren’t really a safe person to confide in. When a person gets repeated responses like this from a community, I’ve seen it drive them away. It further isolates someone who is already struggling. 

Keep in mind also that therapy is covered under HIPAA, meaning healthcare organizations understand that even disclosing that someone is receiving it as treatment is private patient data. As individuals, we’re not beholden to HIPAA but I think it’s worth following that lead and respecting that whether someone is in treatment is private. Let a person decide whether to self disclose rather than making assumptions, pushing, or withholding assistance on that basis.

Not all therapists are good at their jobs. Many make conditions worse.

This is something long time users of mental health services are intimately aware of. Insurance drives which treatments are available and generally speaking they went all in on CBT in the 00′s and 10′s. Current research is beginning to show that it actually makes symptoms worse in people who’ve repeatedly experienced trauma and isn’t terribly effective in cases of personality disorders - which are much more common than previously thought. 

So when you say “go get a therapist” - you’re basically telling someone to go into an industry that currently doesn’t widely offer proven treatments for what they might be dealing with - or if they do it’s likely out of pocket and therefore only available to people of a higher socioeconomic status. 

In addition to that - therapists are human and like any profession, not everyone who decides to become a therapist is good at it. Many are downright harmful. The “go get a therapist” line also tends to make it out that all therapists are “good guys” when they’re really not. The institution itself has a long history of not respecting patients and you better believe that’s still present in education therapists get today. When I was enrolled in a social work degree, I was pretty appalled at how mentally ill folks were talked about and that attitude no doubt transfers to students. 

Therapy has historically been unsafe for marginalized groups and still is often inadequate for their needs.

Which brings me to the fact that therapy has a long history of being actively harmful toward women, folks of color, disabled folks, people of non-Christian religions or areligious, poor folks, and neurodivergent folks. The institution of therapy is still grappling with that history. The harm that it’s caused is passed down generationally so many are impacted by both it’s effect on their families and the short comings of the field today. 

Saying, “just go get a therapist” to folks who are from groups like this actively ignores the harm the field has caused to them. If you’re not going to tell someone to go back to a partner who crossed their boundaries, mischaracterized their experiences, and pushed “solutions” to their issues that caused more harm than good - why would you tell a potential patient to? 

Also consider folks who need childcare to go see a therapist and how that complicates accessing it. Consider folks who are having so much difficulty functioning going to a therapist is their entire day - all for treatment that might not even help. Consider folks who live very far away from cities who have to travel for multiple hours. Consider rural folks who are still fighting to get internet access. Consider those people can’t just move. 

Consider that you might not know what factors makes accessing a therapist difficult or even damaging. 

It furthers credentialism – a facet of classism. 

The only people who can become therapists are people who complete at least two degrees, undergo time afterward becoming certified, and then maintain certification through continuing education and fees - all of this costs a truly wild amount of money. Which naturally means therapists themselves tend to, on average, be from families with higher socioeconomic status.

Accepting that as merely the natural course for a treatment provider ignores that it’s unclear whether that level of education and credentials is needed at all levels of mental health services. Doctors vary in their training. Even among nurses, there are Nurse Practioners who sometimes have doctorates all the way to Certified Nursing Assistants who have about 6 credit hours of training with a skills test and lower requirements to continue certification. Nurses were considered optional and largely unpaid at the beginning of their modern history but quickly became indispensable parts of the medical system.

It’s interesting that mental health hasn’t created a similar system but not unsurprising given it’s roots in the West with wealthy men for whom it was largely a matter of curiosity - the first experiments were in sensory experimentation not treatment. That therapy as an institution continues to make that the bar for even becoming someone allowed to give mental health treatment is not a matter of quality assurance but rather a sign that therapy is still considered optional health care. Many therapists recommend calling hotlines when they’re not on the clock yet most hotlines are staffed by unpaid volunteers with minimal training. And anyone who has called one can tell you how unbelievably hit or miss they are. 

Mental health services rest on this very shaky foundation in part because they refuse to reexamine the degree they want people to be credentialed and it can stay shaky in part because it’s not considered a necessary service the same way other fields of health care are. Saying “just go get a therapist” is basically saying “only someone with multiple credentials is fit to answer this question” without stopping to consider whether that’s truly the case.

Not all upsetting personal experiences require a therapist and continuing to recommend it in all areas of emotional exchange institutionalizes labor that we should be doing for each other to build solidarity outside of the current system.

This one is pretty straight forward. Constantly referring people to commercial solutions for labor we historically provided communally undermines our ability to build systems and solidarity outside of those economic forces. Not everyone needs a therapist for what they’re going through. Community care needs to make a comeback.

So what do to do instead? 

Don’t reply. Examine whether you need to reply to the person at all. If you cannot give them advice on the subject matter they’re looking for without mentioning therapy then it might be worth skipping altogether. Often when people jump to say “what about therapy” it’s more a sign of their discomfort with the topic and their need to feel useful. Other people’s distress is not the place to be working out your hang ups and trying to feel good about yourself. Reflect instead. 

Speak from the “I”. Share your personal experiences about what did and didn’t help. Share that you care about them. Share your personal perspective. 

Resources. Consider pointing toward widely available or cheap resources you found helpful for this particular topic. Tag someone who might have those resources if you don’t. If you want to include more expensive options, be sure to include the price up front. 

Ask if they feel comfortable sharing more about what they’re already doing. Even if they don’t share that they’re in therapy, skip the conversation with strangers and broach it carefully with people you have a relationship with. If they share more, it might help you see how much they’re already doing and you’re less likely to recommend things they’ve already tried. 

Offer to listen. Say you don’t have answers or recommendation but you’re down to listen if they want to vent. If you go this route, having a little bit of familiarity with active listening can really help. 

rubythecrimsonwriter:

I think people need to tell more kids that they’re proud of them for graduating high school. I’m absolutely dead serious, especially now. I can see the graduating high schoolers surrounding me right now are burned out and traumatized and depressed, and they’ve undoubtedly had a much, much harder time in high school than I ever had, and I had some pretty shitty high school experiences.

I graduated high school with no more acknowledgement than the standard “congrats on surviving another year of school!” And immediately followed by “have you finished all your scholarship applications?” That was fine for me. I knew i wanted to go to college, I was set and ready for it, eager to get out of high school into more challenging courses.

But if I just finished high school after two years of fighting through online courses and no one acknowledged the battles I went through? If I was as burnt out and traumatized as these kids are right now? I’d have never have gone to college.

So for everyone graduating high school, even if you barely scraped by passing: I see you. I’m proud of you. You did such a good job. I wish you success in what you try to do, fortune enough to keep you safe and happy, and health always.

canariess:

Jiggly

dimsilver:

a short, strange faerie tale by me

——

It was on a pale clear morning, silent and strange, that Lars Tiefen returned.

No one was watching for him. They all knew that the calling of the Fae could not be broken. One had to be careful not to live too freely, burn too bright - or they would find you, catch you with swift words and unblinking eyes and razor-sharp mind. Lars had known this, and yet he had sung songs like living flame and played notes that pierced like swords. He said he drew the music from the woods and rivers, from roaming and looking where none should dare to tread.

He should have known that the Fae would send for him, bind him, winnow his body, soul, and songs away to their dread Court forever.

So no one was watching for him on the morning he came walking over the hill - no one but Desdemona. She had loved him, long - once in hope, now hopelessly. His songs had stirred her soul. She adored him from afar, and then one perfect day he had come upon her, alone at the edge of the fields, singing a song of her own - one long hidden and shaped, shyly brought to light.

Beautiful, he had called it. Beautiful, he had called her, too. Her golden-red hair in the sunlight made him glad, and the deep, glinting gaze of her brown eyes stirred in him another song to be written. Perhaps a song they would sing together.

But first he wanted to show her the glade, the place his best songs came to him. She would not come. She knew of the faerie ring there, the sleepless danger. But he had gone anyway. The risk, he said, was worth the beauty that he found.

He came back with eyes dazed, strangely touched. One glance, and you could tell they had him. One day allowed to say goodbye, and then he was gone, forever.

But now, only seven years into forever, he came walking through the long grass over the hill’s brink. He leaned on a staff, and he came slowly. Frozen, she stared at him, breath gone.

It was surely a trick of the Fae. But she no longer cared. With that thought, she was moving, rushing up the hill toward him. In a moment, she was there - yet she hesitated to touch him, afraid he would vanish like the morning mist.

“Lars,” she cried, and then could say no more. “Desdemona,” he gasped, almost like a question. She stepped back to look at him, to drink in the morning’s strange miracle.

His pale blue eyes stared straight at her - no, through her. Sightless.

“You cannot see me,” she cried out, and the pain in her voice was very hard for him to bear. “No, my love, I cannot,” he said softly. He seemed calm, but she caught the note of sorrow in his voice and the tightening of his jaw. “Yet believe me when I say, Desdemona, that your face is as clear in my mind as when I left. No vision can be fairer than that.”

She could hardly speak or think. Her hand went fluttering over her mouth, and then to her jaw, and then she wrung her hands together to stop the trembling.“Did they do this to you?”

“No.” He paused, long. “I bought the enchantment before I left.” Her mind went winging back to the bright and horrible morning, seven years ago, when he had kissed her one last time and run swiftly over the hill’s brink to the woods, where the faerie ring awaited.

Wait. The jar that he’d quickly put away when he saw her coming. The jar with Florian the enchanter’s seal upon it.

“I- I thought-“ Anger flared inside her, sudden and strange. “I thought you’d bought something to protect you, something to keep you safe from the Fae! But this…” Words failed her. “Why?” she whispered.

He extended his hand, reaching for her, but she could not take it. Not yet. A flicker of quick emotion passed through his face. He dropped the hand, curling the fingers in toward his chest.“It was to protect me. The Fae are master of many enchantments, beauty not least.”

She waited, not understanding. His voice finally choked on the next words.“Desdemona, I didn’t want to forget your face.”

She broke, and tears came. He reached for her again, and this time she let him pull her into his arms and clung tight.

“I’m weak, Desdemona,” he faltered. “And they’re beautiful, and they can make you see what they want you to see. And I was afraid - I was afraid they’d show me something to make me forget…” His voice trailed off.

“..how much I love you,” he choked out in a whisper.

He just held her, quiet, as she wept for grief and joy and grief again. Finally her sobs turned to little choked sounds and the shuddering calmed in her shoulders. She took a deep breath and pulled back.

“But…I’ve changed, Lars. Life has not been kind to me while you’ve been gone.”

He lifted his hands to wipe her tears and ran them over her face, feeling the new lines marked by long sorrow and pain. “It’s not the face you remember,” she whispered thickly.

“No,” he said softly, “it’s not. But it’s yours.”

—–

It would be long before he could tell her the twisting tale of seven years’ bondage, of tricks and promises and winning his freedom, long before he could even bear the sound of his own music. But she sang to him often, in themes springing from that first song of hers in the field.

Beautiful, he called it. Beautiful, he called her.

And when in time he began to make music again, he no longer needed the sight of the woods and the rivers to craft songs of living flame and piercing swords. He thought of brown eyes and golden-red hair and a hill watched often, beyond hope. And he sang with her a sorrow-won song more beautiful than all before or since.

Sometimes, beyond the field, over the hill, perhaps even in the faerie glade, you can still hear an echo.

artsydest:

Abbott Elementary: Umbrella Scene

One of my favorite scenes. <3 Felt like a shoujo for a moment

gaaandaaaalf:

she submitted her final essay

gabriell555:

I do love drawing horses!!!
They are like a ton of muscles, all working together in the most elegant way! I animated this one for an animation course exercise, and it took a lot of time to understand how his legs work, and how to draw them in an appealing way!

I also learned in this exercise, how to plan different timings for the follows: The hair is moving in a 6-frame cycle, while the tail, as it is much longer and heavier, moves more slowly, in a 12-frame cycle :D

greenheart-anon:

xochitai:

I (10,000+ F) have a son (10,002 M) who, admittedly, I haven’t been very close with. While I was pregnant with him my husband and I were possessed by interdimensional creatures and both of us lost a majority of our memories. I never spent much time with him because I did not remember he was my child.

I recently regained my memories but he refused to talk to me. He ended up getting into some trouble and wound up unconscious so I used a clone I have to get him out of there and while I was at it decided to have the clone bring him to me so we could have a proper conversation. But when he woke up he got upset? Even after I explained that our relationship before was like that because I could not remember we were related, he still got angry and started insulting me and refused to acknowledge me as his mother (despite the fact that I literally gave birth to him?). I’m not sure why he is being so emotional about this but AITA for wanting to have a relationship with him?

Edit 1: For those of you asking if anything happened in the past that may have damaged our relationship, the only thing I can think of is that my coworkers and I may have done some experiments on him but it was mostly my coworkers and it was several thousand decaphoebs ago so I’m not sure why he would still be upset about that, especially after I explained what happened with my memories. 

Edit 2: Obviously, I am aware that a parent-child bond doesn’t come out of nowhere. I was trying to offer him the opportunity to join me in finding another reality where we can find an uncorrupted version of his father so we could start over and be a family, but he stormed off before I could tell him.

lovers-in-space:

Me:

undeadchestnut:

Okay, to put a little spin on this whole dragon thing… how about Stricklake sea dragons?

He can’t survive in shallow waters, she can’t take the pressure of the deep sea, they’re ~In Love~

@feather-dancer@pinkytoothlesso11 thanks so much for enabling me xD

kateofthecanals:

Welp, this movie truly broke me – I’ve gone and written a fanfic, y’all. Well, sorta. More like a lost alternate ending, written in screenplay format since, you know, it’s a movie, lol.

Anyway, I woke up with this in my head and needed to get it out. No time to work out any finer details and minutiae, so forgive any errors. It’s cheesy but I DON’T CARE. I just hope it makes someone feel better.

Begins after The Kiss:

My favorite thing to come from TROS so far is this writing from Kate.  I love this ending; if the movie had ended like this, the series would have been so much better for it.  Thank goodness for fandom.