#instead of fucking learning from it

[giantkillerjack]

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.

[sophies-junkyard]

Change is incremental, but something CHANGED today. You weren’t sure about voting for Biden? You don’t have to anymore! And now is the time to RALLY. The world is fucked up, but letting Trump win will not lead to the political revolution we’re waiting for. Wake up.

Im gonna vote for Kamala Harris in November because I don’t want a wannabe dictator running our country. Simple as that.

[fairmerthefarmer]

My take/designs on the pevensies! (They’re definitely heavily inspired by their looks in the movies.)

Beginning of the lion, the witch and the wardrobe

End of golden age-ish

I’d call this a WIP but it’s not really, mostly once we get into designing clothes in fantasy settings I feel very out of my depth, but I wanna practice more. I’m the most happy with Lucy’s but that’s also cause I most heavily referenced with hers.

Im mostly still just figuring out the clothes design for when they’re in narnia. I want brighter/more jewel toned and warmth to contrast with the more muted London clothes. And for the clothing design I want embroidery, but other than that I have no idea how I would make the designs of the narnian style in this era cohesive.

I also have vague main colours for each of them, lucy green, secondary red, edmund blue secondary brown, Susan purple secondary blue, Peter red secondary purple, and all of them use gold as well.

[infamously-winking]

Silly Straw Page Fully Translated:

hbh grfwru ri d gliihuhqw nlqg/ zkr zdqw wr pdnh klv sdwlhqw eolqg = “eye doctor of a different kind/ who wants to make his patient blind”

Qeb alzqlo pxvp/ qeobb pfmp x axv/ tfii jxhb qeb sfpflkp/ dl xtxv = “The doctor says/ three sips a day/ will make the visions/ go away”

Ixvvb hdwhu/ edeb eloob/ zrxogq'w gulqn/ xqohvv lwv vloob = “Fussy eater/ baby billy/ wouldn't drink/ unless its silly”

215 858 117 450 110 628 19 211 120 2256 216 951 25 256 27 532 212 506 18 1317 110 1137 221. 658 23 1330 210 231 118 929 112 2043 = “Twisted out of shape after the kill, the ghosts of his family are haunting him still.”

we’re not talking about that last cipher enough…

[adriancatrin]

katara sees her brother and bff approaching something that can make them happy and says no interruptions

based on this photo from the live action cast

[uselessimpulses]

this dog does in fact bite ((cropped the full sketch page bc i didnt like the other pieces on it oops))

[demadogs]

some of you need to hate ai way more than you currently do

[unfinishedslurs]

The boy stops in his tracks. “I know you,” he says, tilting his head curiously. He’s not tall, but he’s regal nonetheless, dressed all in white. Something about him makes Leia’s hair stand on end, and although she hides it she feels a stirring in her own chest. I know you like I know my own soul, she thinks wildly, and wonders where it came from. Has she gone insane?

“That’s nice,” she says, and shoots him anyway.

He deflects it in a flash of light, a glowing blue laser sword appearing in his hand like magic. She’s only seen one of those before, and it’s Vader’s. If this boy is anything like Vader, she realizes, she’s in deep shit.

She’s smart enough to know when she’s outmatched. Leia makes the tactical decision to run for her life.

Later, as she’s getting the hell out of there, she wonders why he didn’t try to stop her.

She remembers being young and tugging on her mothers skirts, demanding to know why their guest was so sad. “Does he not like it here?” She’d asked, and then, trembling, because Kenobi always seemed saddest around her. “Is it…because of me?”

“Oh, Leia,” her mother sighed, lifting her into her arms. “It’s not that, I promise.”

“Then what is it?”

“Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, years ago.” Breha’s eyes grew deeper, darker. “It was not his fault, but he blames himself. You remind him of that child, that’s all.”

Leia had quieted at that, contemplative.

The next time she’d seen Master Kenobi, she had given him a hug. He didn’t seem to know what to do with that, so she resolved to give him more of them. “He’s lonely,” she’d told her mother. “No one should be lonely.”

Looking at Obi-Wan Kenobi now, the memory seemed so far away. He’d aged thirty years in the ten it had been.

He looks, Leia thinks with a small twinge of regret, very lonely.

“Leia,” he greets. “It’s been a long time.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Leia sees a glint of white.

Kenobi freezes in his tracks. “Luke?” He whispers, and through the distance Leia can hear it as if he’d been speaking directly into her ear.

Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, her mother whispers in her head. He blames himself.

In an instant, Leia understands everything.

Kenobi is still staring at the boy he’d lost so long ago when Vader cuts him down.

Later, as she’s pacing around on the Falcon to Han muttering darkly about Princesses and supernatural abilities, she rememberers the way the boy collapsed, as if all his strings had been cut. Vader was too occupied with him to even look at her as she shot at him desperately.

Luke. She hates him more than she hates herself.

“They know where you are,” he hisses frantically. “They’re coming for you. You have to run.”

“Wait!” Leia quickly pulls up their sonar. Nothing yet, but it would explain the distant queasiness she’d felt since they’d landed. She tended to trust her gut. “How do you know? How much time do we have?”

“Not important, and not enough,” he says. “I have to go, and so do you. You need to leave yesterday.”

“How do I know I can trust you? I don’t even know who you are.”

He pauses. “Call me Skywalker.”

“That’s not an answer, Skywalker.”

“Yes it is.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but there are faint voices on the other end, drawing nearer.

“Shit,” Skywalker mutters. “I have to go. I’ll be in contact, okay? Don’t ever tell me where you are, or where you’re heading. Vader and Palpatine aren’t shy about reading minds. Just leave as soon as you can, and figure out the rest.”

“But—“

It’s too late. The comm has disconnected.

She stares down at it, disbelieving. How would the Empire know they’re here? Why should she trust a stranger who somehow got her personal comm code?

Gut feeling or not, on paper this was a perfect location. Supplied, armored, and most importantly, extremely well hidden. There was no real reason to think it would possibly be found out.

It’s probably a trap. Almost definitely a trap.

Han sticks his head in the door, a sour look on his face. “Hey Princess, can you tell these idiots—“

She makes a decision then and there.

“We’re leaving.”

“What?”

“We’re evacuating, effective immediately.” She pushes past him, and he follows so close he’s nearly stepping on her heel.

“Why? I think it’s pretty cozy here. Actual sunlight doesn’t hurt, either.”

“Apparently too cozy.” She grabs the first person she sees, a pilot who stares at her with wide eyes. “Emergency evacuation. Spread the word to pack everything you can and leave, I’ll let you know where we’re headed when we’re in orbit.”

He salutes and scurries off.

“Woah, hey now.” Han snatches at her elbow until she turns around to face him. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a new informant. He told me the Empire knows we’re here. They’re coming for us.”

“And you trust this person because…”

“I don’t have a choice,” she snaps. Someone runs past them, holding three packs filled to the brim with rations. “It’s either he’s lying and we’re not in danger, or he’s telling the truth and we’re going to die if we don’t listen. It’s not exactly hard math.”

It could be a trap of course, but he hadn’t suggested any sort of direction or destination to follow, and Leia wasn’t inclined to share. Especially not after his tidbit about Vader and Palpatine reading minds.

He squints at her. “That’s not it.”

“What?”

“I don’t believe you,” he insists. He’s so infuriating. Leia doesn’t know why she hasn’t kicked him out yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do, and you’re either gonna tell me why, or find a different transport when we head out of here.”

“Who said I was riding on your hunk of junk?” She demands. She actually was planning on going with them, since the Falcon has more than enough room for all the supplies that can’t fit in the other ships and none of the trustworthiness of the other pilots, but Han doesn’t need to know that.

“Well?”

Damn him. Damn him for knowing how to read her. She doesn’t know when she let that happen.

“I feel it,” she admits, defeated. “Something tells me he’s trustworthy. We’ll wait and see if it’s right.”

He studies her. She holds her head high, but inside she’s jittery at the scrutiny. They don’t have time for this.

“Yeah, all right,” Han finally says.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” He rolls his eyes, like she’s not acting absolutely insane by putting all her trust in a random man she’s never even met. “Now come on, Princess, weren’t you the one who said we had to hurry?”

What is it about this man that makes it impossible to tell whether she wants to punch him or drag him into the nearest supply closet? They don’t have time to find out.

“So there’s good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first,” she demands.

“They know there’s a mole.”

“Shit.” Of course they know, how could they not? She should have been more careful, less obvious about the correlation of their movements with the Empire’s plans. “The good news?”

“They’ve tasked me with hunting down this ‘pathetic rebel spy,’” Skywalker says, humor in his voice. “That should buy me some time.”

Leia can’t quite stop the snort she lets out. “Seriously?”

“Yep. You’re speaking to a professional mole-hunter, here.”

“Well congratulations on the promotion, Skywalker.”

“Thank you,” he says grandly. Then, quieter, “It won’t last, Princess. They’ll find out eventually.”

“I know. Just hang in there, it will be over soon.”

“Will it?” He asks, suddenly sounding very young. She realizes that she has no idea how old he is. She doesn’t know anything about the man who has saved them more times than she cared to admit, and the idea rattles her until they sign off.

Later, she looks up the name Skywalker in their archives. There are a few results, but only one sticks out.

Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and hero of the Clone Wars. Killed at the hands of Darth Vader. There are gossip articles too, speculations on his relationship with the pregnant Senator Padmé Amidala, who died around the same time Skywalker did. The baby, it seems, died with her.

Unless he didn’t.

It’s ridiculous. It’s impossible. The idea is so ludicrous that Leia almost rejects it entirely.

But it makes sense. By the Maker, it makes sense.

The child of Anakin Skywalker, it seems, would be a powerful Force user indeed. Powerful enough for Kenobi to take the baby and run. Powerful enough for the Emperor to want him for his own gain. Powerful enough to send Vader after Kenobi and take the boy himself.

Maybe even powerful enough to shield his mind from Vader and Palpatine’s intrusions.

Powerful enough to hide the fact that he’s a spy.

Leia sinks into her chair, covering her face as she laughs.

Maybe Luke isn’t so bad after all.

“No, no, no,” she mutters, digging through the smoking wreckage of the TIE fighter. “Don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”

“Princess…” Han lays a hand on her shoulder that she immediately shrugs off.

“No, he’s not dead. He’s not. Luke!”

A faint cough answers her, and she’s so relieved to hear it she could cry. Behind her, Han starts bellowing for a medic and, “Some damn help here, do you expect us to move all this ourselves?”

“Luke, it’s me,” she sobs. “It’s Leia. You’re at the Rebel Base. You’re safe.”

More coughing, and there’s a worrying rasp to his voice when he says, “You know…my name?”

“I figured it out.”

“Smart.” This time, the coughing is so bad Leia and Han both wince.

“Shit, kid,” Han says, moving another piece of rubble. “Don’t talk. We’re gonna get you out of here, all right?”

“Stand back,” Luke chokes out.

“What?”

“Stand back. Please.”

Han protests, but something in Leia knows they should listen to him. She drags him back, and motions everyone else to fall back with them. They do, albeit reluctantly.

“Clear,” she calls, hoping Luke can hear her.

The TIE explodes.

“Fuck!” Han goes back in, Leia on his heels with the terrifying feeling that she’d just allowed Luke to die, before they both stop in their tracks. Around them, the broken pieces of the TIE are floating.

And curled up in the middle is a man dressed all in white.

“Luke!” She pushes past Han to start dragging him out, and after another moment of staring around them, he helps her.

As soon as they get clear, the pieces fall to the ground with a clatter. Luke falls limp with them.

Han is still looking at the TIE. “Can you do that?” He asks quietly.

Leia pauses her examination of the unconscious man in front of her to glare at him. “Is that what you’re most concerned with right now? Really?”

“Excuse me for asking, Princess!”

“It’s white,” Luke grumbles, pulling at his hospital gown bitterly. “I hate wearing white.”

“Should I be offended?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t even. You look great and you know it. I just feel like I never left.”

“Well,” she says gingerly. “I guess it’s a good thing you got sick of it. If we went around in matching outfits all the time, people might think we’re twins.”

He snorts. “Yeah, right.”

[tomwambsgans]

greg said actually i wanna take YOU out and I'M gonna pay for it

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[cator99]

out of curiosity, would you consider yourself butch?

used to be a blonde underweight twink and now I'm a based jock still got the chanel bag and the sick albeit matured mind of a suckpig to prove it so I'm gonna let you decide whether you wanna call me that word just cuz I got a pussy and short hair. I promise you that there have been enough advancements made in the art of lesbian sexual dynamics in the past 50 years to broaden the vocabulary used to describe the plethora of types of masculine females.

[sergle]

I think my favorite thing about doing ginger red hair instead of cherry red hair is: lying to people about it

[d0d0-b0i]

it really feels strange that you can just straight up not do things if you choose to. went home instead of going to a class and the gods didnt strike me down for my negligence. what the hell?

[transandrobroism]

my apparently controversial hot take is that trans men are an oppressed minority, like all trans people, and as such we should be allowed to talk about our specific experiences of systemic and structural transphobia without being told that "other people have it worse". we should be allowed to come up with specific terms for our shared experiences without being told that it's inherently violent and bigoted to want a word to describe transphobia as it affects and is targeted towards trans mascs. we should be able to share our experiences, as an oppressed minority, without being policed and silenced and told that none of our experiences count because we were just "caught in the crossfire" and instead we need to centre any discussion of our own oppression around other people who are "worse off" or the supposed "real targets" of that oppression. we should be able to discuss our pain and trauma and oppression and our needs as a community without hearing some variation of "you're privileged tho so stfu". because all trans people experience transphobia and all trans people are systemically and structurally targeted by transphobia in an oppressive system that punishes any non-normative performance of gender and we should be able to talk about that and have meaningful discussions about the ways transphobia affects different parts of the trans community in different ways and what we can all do collectively as a community to help each other and resist that systemic oppression bearing down on all of us. and yet. here we are. here we fucking are.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

*posts this and runs away. i trip and fall into an open manhole, dying instantly*

[helga-grinduil]

Okay, so. Um. Chapter 423.

Seeing people's reactions I have to say some things. And let me preface this by saying that I don't believe this is truly it. But.

The issue isn't even that Izuku (seemingly) failed to save the person he wanted to save from AFO (well, it is an issue, actually, but not the main point. Also, the fact that his and vestiges' plan to reach Tenko is also what ensured Tomura's death is just so... ), and it's not that he's weirdly distant and cold in this chapter.

It's the fact that not a single one of them actually acknowledged anything that they saw and heard in Shigaraki's mind. Neither of them talked about what AFO told Tomura - the fact that Tomura didn't say anything about what he learned about his quirk, his purpose and the fact that he never truly wanted to kill his family is especially mind-boggling. And Deku didn't say anything about the revelation that Tomura never really had a chance or a choice from the very start either. There was no self-relfection on either side, no real conversation, and there also was no real understanding between the two being reached. It's the fact that Deku instantly stopped caring or wondering about Tenko/Tomura the moment AFO came back, being completely willing to pulverise his body when just a few chapters ago he refused to do that when Nana told him to. It's the fact that he didn't react to Kurogiri pleading for Tomura and Bakugou just killed (???? maybe not, it's hard to understand) the man. It's the fact that the vestiges still being alive and Nana saving Tomura (oh hey, guess her whole family actually all died to AFO, unable to truly smile) was off-screened.

This is not people blaming Izuku. This is just people complaining about straight up bad writing.

Even if Tenko is still alive (And Kurogiri wasn't killed by Bakugou too, but I feel like Kurogiri is just too doomed to survive anyway), that doesn't erase the weirdness that this chapter was. It would still be salvageable, I guess, depending on what happens next, but good lord, the damage was certainly done.

And if Tenko is really dead, but we'll just see more of Midoriya's reaction to that in the following chapters, this would still be fucking horrible.

I love Deku. I love his emotions, how genuine he is, how empathetic he is. He is just a kid forced into an awful situation. This is not a jab at him as much as it is a jab at the author and the writing here. Because how in the world does the protagonist fail at doing what he wanted to do harder than the supporting cast with their villains? Why was Toga and Uraraka's final chapter more genuine and emotional that THIS - the protagonist and the main antagonist's last conversation????? Why was Ochako more upset about realising that Toga is about to kill herself than Deku was in those chapters?