#and I hope you will be good parents

[red-and-white-and-black-and-gold]

Congratulations but also what???? The fuck????

[lilislegacy]

just imagine

percy and annabeth in their 40s having teenagers.

3 to 4 hyper, witty, extremely intelligent teenagers. with powers.

imagine them all stuffed into the car for long roads trips since they can’t fly. imagine them in a heated match of pool volleyball. imagine them on opposing sides of capture the flag at camp

oh gods…imagine family game night

[giantkillerjack]

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

[plain-text version of this post can be found under the cut]

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.

Plain-text version:

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!

P.S. 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.

[annabelle--cane]

I love that the first picture we're given of gideon's mother is of a woman befallen by space tragedy at the worst moment, plummeting to the closest planet as a last hope for survival, sacrificing her life to save her newborn daughter in the ultimate act of love, and when her soul is summoned back all she can do is scream her child's name over and over. so you think "wow, even though gideon was treated so horribly, she can carry with her this knowledge that once upon a time she was loved very much by a woman who would do anything for her." and then we actually meet wake.

[yeehawpim]

Unfinished Kipperlilly comic that came before this one

Extra page under the cut

[elation-station]

the town bisexuals are at your door it is time for you to pick a bride

[sickwhispers]

hii could I request some rodger x reader..

QUITE THE CHARMER

Pairing: Rodger x reader

Relationship: romantic

Warning: none

Type: headcanons + drabble

"Y/n?" Toodles stands behind you, a curious look on her face as you turn around to face her. It wasn't unusual for her to ask you questions out of the blue, especially when the team was able to relax for a bit after another run, considering she was always such a curious little thing. And, you never minded answering. "Why does Rodger call you his sweetheart?

To say you were shocked was an understatement

Sweetheart?

Sure, you've heard him throw the word around before

But, usually he kept that sort of nickname saved for when you two were alone

And, most of the time, you had always assumed it was just something having to do with his overall persona

Referring to you as sweetheart in front of others, though?

That was new

He was always the type to be gentle with you, and maybe even a little protective

He cared for the others, there was no doubt about that, but he seemed to be more cautious when you or toodles were teamed with him

An airhorn hidden in his pocket, purposely messing up during an extraction, keeping extra tapes in case dandy were to sale aid

All things he did in case you two were in trouble

In full honesty, he knew he wouldn't forgive himself if you were to get hurt during a run

Along with him putting himself at risk for your safety, he usually preferred you to hide during rounds

Even if you weren't always so fond of it

He knew you wanted to help at times, but he'd sleep better at night knowing that you were safe and sound

"Alright... you two stay here. I'd rather you hide them lose another one of those hearts." He whispered, his voice barely audible to anyone besides you and toodles as he gently takes her out of his arms and into yours. And, the second she's handed over, her arms quickly wrap around your neck, holding onto tighter then you've ever felt before.

You open your mouth to speak, attempting to protest against what felt like another one of his commands. But, you didn't get far before he had already begun shushing you. "Don't start with me now."

"Toodles?" He starts once more, turning his gaze from you and onto the little girl clinging to you. It almost amazes you. The way his tone went from something akin to disapproval and worry, to something much more softer. "I need you to be brave, alright? Be a big girl and keep them safe for me."

"Got it, rodger!" She says, a little two loudly then what you and rodger were comfortable with. Quickly, rodger turned around, using his one eye to scan around the area. And, once taking notice of the lack of footsteps coming their way, shifted his gaze back over to the both of you.

"Thank you, toodles. Remember, shh..." her head nods in reply to what rodger had said, holding up a finger to her mouth as she copies the same shushing sound he had made.

He wasn't made to distract, and the heavy breathing that seemed to attract every twisted in the area was proof of that, yet..

At the same time

He couldn't help but jump into action

He knew how risky it was, and at most times he'd prefer to think of it logically

He was the logical person of the group, he was a detective

But, he felt almost embarrassed at how many times situations he's out himself in just to insure your safety

Now, if you weren't in danger, and he was able to think straight before reacting, he usually went with the more refined ways to insure your safety

Most of the time

If a twisted was headed your way, and hadn't noticed you yet, then he'd prefer to throw something in the opposite direction and away from you

But on those special occasions where he felt there was little to no time, he wouldn't hesitate before throwing himself in front of you

If he was able to reach you, that is

[moeblob]

North and Simon: (shaking hands on killing Simon potentially)

[lilybug-02]

Artfight against @ejsuperstar ft. The Mad King and Chip. They're both so evil. I hope they have the most extravagant downfall of any onscreen villain.

This interaction is based on a little fic writing >:)

[stubz]

"Maverick is here."

"Hi Maverick! Want some coffee?" the human groaned.

"Only if it's Irish..."

"Heh, if only."

The two humans tried but couldn't help the shift of tone when talking about the youngling. Couldn't help the sighs or forced enthusiasm when it came to Maverick.

Maverick, age 6, species Ewelsjay, and the unknowing arch nemesis of Kim and Max.

.

"Maverick get down from there!" the man shouted up to the child dangling from the fire sprinklers.

"But it's fun!" giggled the child.

"They're not for climbing! Get down now!"

"No I'm no-!" the sprinkler snapped.

"I told him," he growled running towards the crying youngling. "a million times I told him don't climb the sprinklers! They're not for climbing! But did he listen? Nooooo."

..

"Maverick! What happened!?"

"Mr. Aurum, Maverick climbed the fire sprinklers and fell when they broke. Luckily it wasn't that high and he landed on the mats, he only has a bruise and scrapped knee."

"And you let him??"

"..No. I did not. We have told Maverick multiple times not to climb them because of this very reason."

"Oh Mavy. You need to listen your teachers. I'll have a talk with him."

"See you tomorrow then."

...

"And he looked at me as if I let his kid climb the sprinklers!!" he took a swig of his Irish coffee.

"Tell me about it...the guy acts as if it's always our fault. One time he told me it was my job that his kid puts his bag in his locker. His 6 year old kid...he's 6 years old! I tell him and sometimes he does it but most of the time he looks me in the eyes and says you do it."

"Exactly! We're not servants!"

"Gah please let them move or switch schools!"

....

"All right kids, foods ready so line up."

"But before you grab a plate let us tell you what's just for the humans today. The kitchen made an accident today and put in too much of a spice that can be dangerous for other species, it's the blue pot. Okay? Only humans can eat that."

"Human kids, only have a little to start with because its spicy. If you like it then you can have more later."

The kids nodded and started to serve themselves, only the humans taking food from the blue pot.

When they ate the adults chuckled and smiled watching their fellow humans eat the spicy curry. Some kids loved it for the spice or flavor while others chugged their milk. They're non-human friends laughed or gasped.

"Human Kim, can I try some?"

"Sorry Maverick but not today. It's not safe for some of you kids. We'll have this again on Friday though and we'll make sure it's safe for the rest of you kids."

"Aw. Okay." the human cracked a small smile and ruffled his golden hair.

"How about you try some of this? It from the same place on earth."

"It's green!"

.....

"Excuse me, Max and Kim? Maverick told me something very concerning yesterday."

"Oh, what was it?"

He told me that yesterday there was a dish just for the humans. That no one but humans were allowed to eat it." the Ewelsjay glared at them.

'Here we go' they both thought.

"Mr. Aurum the kitchen made a mistake when making one of the dishes yesterday and put in too much of a spice that is dangerous to most species. So to not waste the food and keep the others safe we only allowed the human children to eat it.

This was a simple mistake and Kim has talked to the kitchen already and made arrangements to make the dish again on Friday."

"Really? 'Too much spice' is what stopped my child from eating? Unbelievable."

"...listen-"

"Sir, this type of spice is one that can be rather harmful to younglings, even adults, and since we couldn't quite call everyone's parents asking for permission we decided to play it safe." the human placed a hand on her co-workers back. Trying her best to calm her friend. Even though she too wanted to rip Aurum a new one.

"I'll be the judge of that. Tell me, what's the name of the dish and how exactly the kitchen made it."

"Mr. Aurum I don't think-"

"Goat curry and it has many different variations but this recipe had 1 seeded scotch bonnet pepper."

And with that the Ewelsjay left with his son.

"Are you sure that was a good idea?"

"No but I don't care. Besides as much as an a-hole he is there's no way he'll let Maverick eat it before he tries it first."

"Ooo the perfect crime."

*the next day*

"Teachers teachers teachers!"

"Yes Maverick?"

"My Dad tried the goat carry and his face turned bright orange! He took one bite and then screamed for water but it didn't help."

"Yeah water doesn't do much. Rookie mistake."

"Yeah but then I remembered what teacher Kim said about milk and gave him that and it helped!"

"So how's your Dad now?"

"He's stuck in the bathroom still drinking milk." he said so matter of factly making the humans snort.

"A-and now do you see why we didn't want you eating it?" asked Max trying his best not to laugh.

"Yeah...I guess I should be listening to you two. You are my teachers."

"Glad to hear that. Now go to put your stuff away and play."

"Okay!" once he was out of earshot the two finally allowed themselves to laugh till they cried.

Maverick was a handful most times but moments like these reminded the two that he was a kid. And kids learn from those around them. Hopeful Mr. Aurum would learn what his son did today, listen to the teachers.

[evankinkley]

Imagine getting a live with JLH and you can ask her about her favourite dramatic scenes, what she wishes for madney in the future, what she thought of the wedding episode, which natural disaster she would like to see on the show etc.... and instead you ask her about a non-canon ship that she's not a part of.

[jupiterslibrary]

thinking about the second coming and the jesus/judas parallels...

you're the nice one. here's your friend. best friend even. and you love him even as you worry you're doomed. and now they're here to take you away. he comes up to you. he kisses you. its a kiss that condemns you but nevertheless you forgive him. you give up everything for humanity. and you do it all with a smile! you turn the other cheek!

you're the evil one. you have to do the dirty work so heaven doesn't have blood on its hands. maybe one day humanity will be grateful to you for what you gave them but for now it's a thankless job. you never wanted any of this but here's your part in the great plan. here's your friend. best friend even. you kiss him. they take him away and you are alone.

[wayfayrr]

ok so you didn't give a like request limit and i'm aro and kind of starved for platonic writing so i'll try to keep a lid on it! but "I showed you genuine kindness and it was maybe the first time you’d ever experienced it and accidentally ended up becoming more of a parent to you than your “real” blood family ever was. Uh. Do you want to play catch in the park or" with hyrule?

Don't worry about it, I get being starved for representation which is part of why I reblogged them as prompts <3 (also lol I imagine for this reader and rulie are similar ages but reader is just a couple years or so older think like 19/16 kinda gap almost)

The rest of the chain were starting to pick up on how close you and rulie had gotten as of recent. From the minute you'd first ruffled his hair sitting at the campfire, the dynamic started to shift.

It was almost as if he was trying to please you, similar to a kid trying to prove himself to a parent with wind seeing some similarities between how he acted with linebeck.

It only really started to matter when they noticed that he'd prioritise your healing, not much, but enough to notice his favouritism. Just enough for you to have to tell him to rest, that you'd be fine, that he didn't need to stress over it.

But it all got confusing when the links started to refer to him with your last name, especially with how confused they were when they did it. Coincidentally it just had to happen when they were all in your world again, leading to your current line of questioning.

"So... I showed you genuine kindness and it was maybe the first time you’d ever experienced it and accidentally ended up becoming more of a parent to you than your “real” blood family ever was?"

"Yeah."

"Is that why the others..."

"I am a fae, I thought it would be more fitting for me to share your name."

"Okay, okay that's fine. Well uh, do you want to play catch in the park or go talk about this?"

[libraryofgage]

The Wish Job (One)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four | Five Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One | Two1 0th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One | Two Queen Clarisse Renaldi One | Two | Three Leverage Crew One (you're here!)

This fic was line jumped! If you'd like to learn more about line jumping (getting to see your favorite fics updated sooner) you can read this post

I had a lot of thoughts for this AU, actually, so I'm really glad it got line jumped so I was forced to put them down into words lol

Steve becomes one of Nana's foster kids, but he spends a majority of this series with the Leverage crew working a job (as the name of this series suggests), and they fill similarly parental role.

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;P

----

After his father's arrest, everything is a blur. Steve can remember flashes, sure, but nothing concrete. Nothing more than two FBI agents in the door of his classroom, the cold steel of interrogation room chairs, an agent's ponytail with split ends, a kind smile but clammy hand on his elbow, the broken A/C of the car when he finally left the FBI office, and the slippery feel of the garbage bag he's given to pack 14 years of a life he'll never see again.

Nothing comes back into focus until he's faced with an older black woman, standing outside a two-story house. The man with a kind smile but clammy hands introduces her, but Steve doesn't actually hear the name.

"You can call me Nana," the woman says, looking at the man like she doesn't know why he's still there when his work is obviously done.

"Well, uh, Steve, feel free to call if you need anything. We'll keep in touch," the man says, nodding before half-running down the walk way.

"Never liked him," Nana says, clicking her tongue. "Too damn squirrely for my tastes. Now, Steve, come inside and we'll go over some ground rules."

Steve follows her mechanically, gripping his trash bag tightly and wondering far too late why he wasn't allowed to pack his own suitcases. The house is a cacophony of noises: feet running across wood floors, a TV blaring from the living room, shouts coming from every direction, a microwave beeping while the oven timer rings, a crash from the next room over that makes Steve wince.

Nana stands in the doorway, takes a deep breath, and then shouts at the top of her lungs, "Y'all had better stop all this racket right the fuck now before I cancel pizza night!"

The house goes silent, and Steve feels his shoulders tense even more. He hates the silence. Silence means anger, and anger means punishment. He clenches his jaw, trying to keep himself small as Nana nods and leads the way into a dining room.

A girl appears in the room shortly after, carrying a mug and a soda. She places the mug in front of Nana and the soda in front of an empty seat, gesturing for Steve to sit. "Welcome. I can take your bag, if you want," she offers, looking at the trash bag with bright eyes.

"Don't make trouble, Breanna," Nana says, dismissing her easily.

Steve watches her leave before sitting. He licks his lips, opens the soda as quietly as he can manage, and waits for Nana to take a sip from her mug before saying, "Thank you for taking me in, ma'am."

"I said to call me Nana, none of that ma'am business unless you're in trouble, and you're not in trouble," she says, waving her hand dismissively. "Now, the rules. No complaining about sharing a room. No TV remote access after seven because that's when my shows start. We all eat dinner together on Wednesday night. You go to school every day unless you're sick, and you tell me when you're feeling sick. You got all that?"

"Yes, m....Nana."

"Good. Now, I know you're used to a fancier living than this, but I expect you to adjust without too much complaint. You still get your own bed, and whatever you brought is yours to keep, but money is tight. We save where we can, and I expect you to help with that. Turn off lights, use less water, unplug things when you're not using them."

Steve nods again, inexplicably feeling a little better as Nana speaks. She's not treating him like a spoiled brat, but she's not coddling him, either. She gets another boy (an older one named Hardison) to give him a tour of the house. He shows Steve the mezzuzahs on each door and the Kaaba directional marker in each room---"We're a multi-denominational household, kid, Nana will get whatever you need if she doesn't have it already," Hardison says, grinning widely at him---and makes sure he knows which spots are good for hiding when he needs a few minutes.

He ends the tour at Steve's new room. It has two bunk-beds, three of the bunks with rumpled sheets and one bottom bunk devoid of sheets altogether. Hardison gives Steve blue sheets, welcomes him, and then leaves Steve to unpack by himself.

It's new, it's unfamiliar, it's terrifying. Steve hopes, despite himself, that it's not a temporary stop.

----

"I don't care! He can't stay!"

"We're already in London, Hardison. We can hardly send him back on a plane by himself."

"Isn't that how he got here in the first place? He's 17, not seven."

Steve moves his gaze from Hardison to Sophie to Eliot, feeling like he's watching a tennis match. He's sandwiched between Nate and Parker, a hand on his shoulder holding him back from trying to defend himself. Not that he's upset about it. Keeping everyone from turning their frustration on him sounds like a great idea.

"Yeah, and how did he get here?" Parker asks, dashing Steve's hopes right as they're forming.

He shifts uncomfortably as everyone looks at him, ducking his head and staring at the floor. A small part of him is frustrated, angrily protesting the familiar move when its usual target has long been absent.

"Hey, give him some room," Hardison says, moving forward to push Nate and Parker back a few steps. He stands at an angle to Steve, leaving him plenty of room to move away if he wants. "Nobody's angry, kid. Well, I'm a little mad, but only because you could be putting yourself in danger. So, how'd you catch up to us?"

Steve wonders for a brief moment about whose wrath he'd rather endure. In the end, he decides Breanna is scarier than Hardison, so he lies. "Nana and I overheard you on the phone with Parker at Hannukah dinner, and then Nana said she gets worried about you sometimes," he says, meeting Hardison's eyes before glancing away. He makes himself small again, but it's on purpose this time, broadcasting shame as he adds, "I still have, um, access to my savings account...from my....from them. Enough for a plane ticket and cab ride, at least."

"Aww, Nana worries about us," Parker says, smiling brightly as she nudges Eliot with her elbow. "That's sweet."

"If it weren't a lie," Sophie says, her lips pursed and her eyebrows raised slightly as she walks closer to Steve. She taps his shoulder, his temple, and his hand. "Lowered head but not as low as before. Shoulders drawn in but tense to hold them there. Fingers twitching just slightly. Impressive, I will admit, but I'm a professional, darling."

Steve sighs and lifts his head, his shoulders relaxing some as he frowns. "You didn't have to call me out on it," he mumbles.

"Breanna got you here, didn't she? Ain't no way you'd lie to protect anyone else."

"She could ruin me, Hardison."

"I can ruin you, too, did you forget about that?"

Steve considers him for a moment before shrugging.

"Well," Nate says, clapping his hands together and pulling everyone's attention to him. "Steve is here now, we might as well use him. Sophie, give him an Italian accent and some suede shoes."

"I can already speak Italian," Steve says, "and I have my own suede shoes to match a Cesare Attolini suit." He feels something like guilt twinge in his stomach when Hardison glances at him. Steve's mother may have forfeited custody of him, but she still sends gifts every now and then. Steve usually sells them, slips the cash into drawers and wallets and couch cushions so they can be discovered by Nana and his foster siblings.

The suit and shoes, though? Steve couldn't bring himself to sell them. If there was one thing he missed about life before Nana's foster home, it was the clothes. It was the way his clothes made him feel like a better version of himself, a version everyone would admire and approve of. So, yeah, he'd kept the clothes and shoes his mother sent him two months ago, and he'd packed them for this trip just because.

He'd glad they seem to be coming in handy.

After processing his words, Nate blinks, a smile growing on his face like he's discovered a treasure he won't be letting go of any time soon.

----

Tag List

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[little-pup-pip]

25 Days of Agere Moodboards! Day 9: Favorite Disney Princess!!

[hussyknee]

TERFs with Discworld usernames make me snort. What the fuck kind of mental gymnastics do you have to do to believe that the man, who invented Cheery Littlebottom and wrote Monstrous Regiment while the cultural zeitgeist was still cracking "hot girl used to be a dude" jokes, would be anything but a staunch advocate of trans people? Man whose entire body of work reiterates "telling people how they should be is stupid and trying to force them to conform to your ideas is evil"? Hello??