My healing contact just broke in 2. I had one half on my eye going hurtfully crazy which I spent line idk what felt like half an hour to get away from eyes while not touching the eye. Tried fetching the other half just to lose it somewhere on the ground.
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.
Okay shout out to the adults who were suicidal during their younger years and fully thought they weren't going to live long enough to be the age they are now, and now don't know what to do in life. Shout out to the adults who don't have many friends, who don't have anyone to hang out with often. Shout out to adults who are lonely and struggling, and scared. Shout out to the adults who struggle to leave their house. Shout out to the adults who still live with their parents. Shout out to the adults who never got to experience all those things shown in coming of age movies and shows. Shout out to the adults who have never kissed anyone, been in a relationship or had sex, and everyone around you seems to think its weird that you haven't. Shout out to the adults who feel younger than they actually are, and don't know how to be an adult. Shout out to the adults who hoped to have been better now. Things are fucking difficult and suck, but I genuinely believe that we are going to be okay one day
right now i'm very torn between "taking critique is important as an artist and it's not an attack on me personally" and "people commenting about my same face syndrome under my posts upsets me an unreasonable amount and i wish they would stop doing it"
The level of anger I have right now toward WB and James motherfucking Gunn… I can’t even put into words right now how angry I am.
How do you fucking do that to someone? Have them announce he’s Superman PRIOR TO HIRE…then HIRE HIM…only to then say NAH WE ARE GIVING THE ROLE TO SOMEONE ELSE THANKS FOR YOUR TIME DONT LET THE DOOR HIT YOU ON THE WAY OUT!!! And THEN POST ABOUT IT AND SAY ‘…but we’re big fans of his and we talked about a number of future possibilities!’ Get the fuck out of here with that shit, trying to smooth your biggest fucking mistake out. We don’t want it.
Like you have to have some fucking balls to really rip the rug out from someone like that. And that someone was so ready to get back into that suit and rebuild Superman and the universe he would be in… only to just let him down so fucking hard.
And not just Henry.. we, the fans! The ones who wanted him back in the first place, and the ones who were excited or at least somewhat hopeful about this whole rebuilding of the DCU! You go and do us AND him dirty like that? Fuck you, man. Honestly, go fuck a cactus.
Scar isnt in this arc but i was told to draw him <3
video transcript: "Call me (us) Dylan."
title cards! I'm super normal and cool 😀 to all the people who said 'I have no idea what's going on but this slaps' i love you, please continue to thrive.
“Oh, I’m sorry, baby. Want me to kiss it where it hurts?” Kirishima purrs up at you, his place between your thighs seemingly the closest thing he can get to ascension. His eyes are wide, his pupils blown out, any red swallowed up by the lust pooling in his eyes. he looks like the picture of adoration and worship, all faux worry and pure hunger as he bounces between your gaze and the pretty picture that twitches in front of his face. his eyes cross to watch the slick ooze from your hole, sighing.
“It’s the least you could do for me,” you pout to him, running your nails through his soft locks, tugging a little meanly at the root. “After using me like a toy on your cock for so long.” Your words are sighed wistfully, your eyes betraying just how much you want his mouth on you as he wants to taste you. Kiri moans at that, quiet and in the back of his throat, but you hear it none the less.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he repents, but it’s all for naught when his tongue laves over your sensitivity and doesn’t let up until you’re crying from the overstimulation once more. he’s so sorry—that you can only cum so many times before you tap out. he’s so sorry—that your thighs are more sore from tightening up around his head than his working jaw. he’s so sorry—that you’re so addicting, that he can lay between your legs until his last breath leaves him.
Every time you think, "Oh, I don't have [x condition], I'm basically cured!" that is the devil talking. You aren't cured, you are likely going through periods of your symptoms waning. Don't cease whatever you're doing to help yourself, like medication, for instance, because it's likely you still have the conditions or symptoms, even if you aren't noticing them as frequently or severely.
Not the first to say it, but damn can’t believe Galladay really went from toxic yaoi to doomed tragic yaoi.
Alright fellow Galladay trash, where’s the modern AU fix-it fics?
I need to see Gallagher single dad with Misha plus their dog/cat Sleepie falling for entertainment company CEO Sunday. Don’t ask me how they met, fuck it, throw in bodyguard AU Gallagher who works part-time at a bar, boom there that’s how they meet, idk I’m making this up on 3 hours of sleep.
You’ve heard of slow burns, now get ready for Galladay blaze it.
They’re speedrunning the relationship from hate -> annoyance -> mild disgruntlement -> weirdly vibing -> ok wow never knew I needed that in my life -> Sunday is way too ok with spoiling Misha -> ok so we got married -> alright we’re dismantling the government now -> Sunday went to jail for 5 minutes for attempting “peaceful” world domination, don’t worry we (Gallagher) forgave him -> Sunday’s stepping down as CEO to run a coffeeshop idk look someone get him some therapy -> Robin is president now while she still goes on tours -> Misha won an engineering competition while this was all going on
Bottom line: Robin is out living her best life while Sunday is in the back somehow having the most insane week of his life. I have no other notes for her here except that she is happy, and successful, and is Sunday’s last remaining brain cell. She and Misha are having some fun Aunt/Nephew bonding times while Galladay are accidentally-on-purpose committing multiple war crimes.
No, we don’t have time to unpack 2.2 and all its trauma, we cope with modern AU :)