#hurts and making me sick

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Does anyone have comfort videos

[andthebeanstalk]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[wasyago]

so, would you?

nothing important under the cut, you don't need to look haha

[claraoswalds]

The Girl Who Died // Hell Bent

[anna-scribbles]

“He was— He was my ‘buttercup’,” she sobbed out, and his hand gripped her far shoulder, “And I— I never even— I never got to tell him how much he m-meant to me— not even th-the stupid sun thing—”

“Oh… Marinette…” he whispered, his nose brushing against her hair, “The sun thing wasn’t stupid.”

this scene from chapter 6 of drowning (in plain sight) by @buggachat has PLAGUED me since i read it i am deeply unwell

[lgbtiwtv]

he didn’t even think she could dream.

he spent 70 years thinking she didn’t dream. he believed the lies she told herself just like he believes the lies he tells himself. he didn’t think she would lie. he didn’t think about how she suffered too, how she needed the stories too. how she’s a complete person with fears and hopes, how she would lie to herself to get through the pain of life just like everyone else. he forgot so much of her, so much of the realities of everyday life that he believed her when he himself witnessed otherwise. he didn’t even think she could dream

[sxturdaysun]

i am once again saying that there is nothing wrong with being a non-sharing selfshipper. there's nothing wrong with blocking people who share one (or multiple) of your f/os. there's nothing wrong with telling doubles not to interact with you. setting boundaries for yourself and your online space is a moral neutral and has nothing to do with being "insecure" or some other negative. if you find that insulting or belittling, that's on you; not on the person setting the boundary. quit trying to make non-sharers into bad guys.

[completelymindfucked]

[ruiniel]

Alucard & sick Reader HCs

*totally not inspired by the devilish respiratory illness I'm contending with these days

He may take after his mother in so many ways, but he's still his father's son in having witnessed the consideration Dracula had shown Lisa during their times as a family

It all brushed off on him from a young age: humans need more tending to during times of illness

If Adrian cares, whether in a platonic friendship capacity or whichever way, he will fuss over you, make no mistake

When you're coughing so much your intercostal and abdominal muscles hurt he'll draw you up, hug you against him so you don't cough on your back; outwardly calm and composed while reeling inside (you won't notice anyway)

He'll scour his mother's papers for any aid to ease your state because he can't stand to see you hurting

He'll carry you everywhere when you're too weakened to walk on your own

He'll never let you out of his sight. Some might find that too much, too overbearing, but he's lost so many people he cares about he's taking 0 chances

You're getting homemade cough syrup and medication as soon as he figures out what the main cause and symptoms are, no buts

After all he was Lisa's most devoted apprentice

He'll rest close by, idling in an armchair or standing by the window of your chamber, quiet and unobtrusive but to be around just in case

He'll lend you all the clean shirts you need, help you change out of the wet ones as your body fights fever spells

If you call his name, the book flies from his lap

He'll gently urge you to rise from time to time, to listen to your heart and lungs; there are no stethoscopes yet in the 1400s but his hearing is sharp enough that he can discern your heartbeats or if there's anything worrisome with your lungs. He'll press his ear to your back, following all points of interest

Once satisfied, he'll lie you back down, listening to your mutterings of gratitude with a blank stare, but his lips do alight on your forehead for a fast fever check

He'll lie beside you in your sickbed and hold you close if you get chills, telling you it'll pass, he's here, he'll take care of you

He believes it, too, of course, he can't even fathom other alternatives

Adrian is nothing if not methodical, so once you're better, an immune system boost 'program' awaits.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

villain comforting a VERY beaten hero, platonic cuddling and lots of tears pls

have a nice day <3

“I’m not dead,” the hero whispered.

And yet they were hooked to an IV. And yet they hadn’t been able to breathe on their own for hours. The villain took in a deep breath. Of course, they were angry. Of course, the villain had been losing their mind in this hospital.

Quiet panic attacks in bathroom stalls, litres of coffee, endless questions for the nurses — this day had been way too long for their liking.

“I’m not dead,” the hero repeated a little louder this time. They sat up in bed and their face made horrible grimaces. As they looked around in excruciating pain, they saw the IV and reached for it.

“Hey, what are you doing?” The villain grabbed their wrist before the hero could rip it out.

The villain was sure they didn’t look much better than the hero; they hadn’t slept in forever.

“Lay back,” the villain said gently. They put a hand on the hero’s shoulder and pressed them back into the hospital bed. “It’s a miracle that you’re alright. Thank god you hit the gym. Your fitness basically saved you. Your heart was strong enough to keep you alive.”

The hero sighed and took the villain’s hand. They didn’t seem to be fully aware of it, so the villain just let it happen.

“I’m fine. It’s not a big deal,” the hero said. They closed their eyes. “I’m not dead, I’m okay.”

“You may not care what happens to you but I do. Do you think it was easy to call the ambulance and then disappear into thin air? Only to rush to the hospital as a civilian? Do you think it was easy to watch you bleed out? Do you think it was easy—”

“Shh.” The hero’s thumb rubbed over the villain’s knuckles a few times. They opened their eyes. “Please don’t cry.”

The villain swallowed. They had spent a lot of time with their conflicted feelings throughout the night. Mostly, they had tried to bury them but now that the hero was talking to them, they couldn’t help but splinter a little.

They wiped tears out of their eyes but it didn’t matter: they kept dropping anyways.

“Please…” the villain whispered. “Please don’t send me away like that ever again.”

Not even the hero’s hand in theirs felt strong. The hero was weak, too frail to function properly. All the villain could do was fall to their knees and pray for the hero’s health until their knees bled.

“I’m not going to the gym anymore,” the hero said. “I just fight with you a lot. So, I guess you saved me after all.”

They paused and closed their eyes again. The villain could see a sparkling tear roll down the hero’s cheek. Probably overwhelmed and tired, they leaned back.

Although they didn’t want to admit it, the villain felt responsible for everything. They had always had a special gift of blaming themselves. The hero looked at them through half-lidded eyes.

“I’ve never had any visitors in the hospital before. Thank you.” Their voice was soft, yet raspy. “And I’m sorry for sending you away. I thought I’d be fine.”

The hero had told the villain it was their last wish: for the villain to go home.

“I was scared and I didn’t want you to watch me die,” they said.

“You’re not gonna leave the bed for quite a while. I’ll chain you to it if I have to.” The villain stood up from their chair and sat down on the bed. “Let’s take a break from all this. You’ve suffered enough for several lifetimes.”

The hero smiled softly and then, they squeezed the villain’s hand.

[crybaby-bkg]

“Why is my stomach in knots?” you grumble to yourself as you look in the mirror, quickly blending in your makeup. your hands move faster than they should, your nerves already shot to shit and the stiff, hard to blend blush is really starting to irk you. you frown when Bakugou pops in behind you, his face next to yours as he takes you in.

“Whaddya so nervous for?” he asks you, dipping down to kiss the curve of your neck. he’s learned to avoid your face until you powder yourself up, and then he can go crazy. but you’re still blending something wet on your cheeks, and he doesn’t wanna upset you more than you already are.

“What if our date isn’t perfect?” you whisper, finally setting down your brush, your hands wringing in your lap. but bakugou reaches over your shoulders, grabs your palms in his, brings them to his face to kiss and kiss at, despite the barely dried concealer you had swiped on them. he hugs you to his chest, careful still of your face, frowns at the way you try to hide your blooming smile at his affection.

“‘Course it’s gonna be perfect.” He reassures you quietly, pecking the side of your neck. “You’re gonna be there with me; that’s all that matters.” You pout at him through the mirror despite your smile, watching his own face soften as he takes in your almost ready face.

“But what if my date tries to order for me, and won’t let me finish a sentence?” You sigh all melancholy, rolling your eyes into your head. You giggle when he bites at the curve of your shoulder, trying to get away but he holds you tight against his chest.

“Then I’ll beat his fucking ass.” Bakugou mutters into your skin, feeling brave enough to steal a kiss on your cheek. Him being brave—the thought makes you laugh to yourself. Bakugou afraid of scaring you, the love of his life, and being afraid of your wrath from fucked up makeup when he battles villains all day. You turn in your seat, wrapping your arms around his neck when he kneels on the floor behind your stool. He almost looks like he’s praising you, with the way his chin tilts up and his gaze is hyper focused on you and you only.

“You’re such a nerd.” You tease, tucking your chin to your neck when he squeezes your thighs in his hands. He leans forward to steal another kiss, despite the way you lean away and try to push his face from yours.

“Shuddup,” he murmurs, bypassing your hand to peck your lips. He stands when you swat at him, kissing the top of your head this time as he makes his way out of the room to start getting ready. As he leaves, he speaks over his shoulder with a huff,

“And finish your face already. Stop depriving me ‘n shit.” He grumbles. You don’t comment on how red his ears are, his admittance of wanting to kiss you again and again, how he always does. You only blow him a kiss, laugh at the way his shoulders hike and his huffing under his breath, and finally finish getting ready.

[gojosbf]

at my beloved @itafushitrash's request

[motianz]

Mo seeking comfort in He tian

I need you to

[simplepotatofarmer]

the worst thing that came from the misuse of 'parasocial' is people think it's weird to tell people you don't know that you love them.

i do love my mutuals on social media sites and i do love the streamers i watch and i do love all the people, all around me, that i don't know. they're people! and i don't know them but i know that and that's enough for me to love them all the same.

[transmechanicus]

Really fucked up that two ppl can care about each other and make their best efforts to communicate and still end up hurting each other so badly they cannot stand to be in the same room.

[demonstars]

horrible fucking quality. BUT WHY THE FUCK WOULD HE SAY THIS.