#only by a few months

[val-el]

when will people understand that jason is younger than rose. oh my god.

[duskyashe]

CAMP NANO DAY 26

[First] [Previous] [AO3]

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Mischief, better known as Stiles now, had had an overall uneventful past five and a half years since he Wished Peter Hale back into full health. Sure, there'd been some... Challenges with trying to incorporate a werewolf, two humans, and a never-before-seen alpha werepolar bear as a single, cohesive unit, especially when said alpha werepolar bear was the youngest of the entire unit and was an actual child who was trying to lay claim to and manage a territory that had previously been held by a respectably sized werewolf pack with only a single beta of his own. So, overall not the easiest thing to do, but, well. They had managed pretty well thus far, and things had gotten much easier after the first two years had gone by without the Stilinski Pack ("Sleuth!" "We are not calling ourselves a sleuth, Mischief, and that is final." "Uuuughh. Fine.") giving a single inch in terms of territory disputes. It had gotten to the point that Stiles was finally able to just focus on normal teenager things, like worrying about his only friend in the entire school.

Isaac Lahey was one of three kids his age in the entire school that wasn't either a complete douche canoe or a simple minded sycophant, but Erica Reyes couldn't get through a simple conversation with him without nearly passing out from blushing too much, and Vernon Boyd didn't talk to anyone, so that left Isaac. Whom Stiles was about ninety-three percent certain was being abused at home, though he only had circumstantial evidence that could, sadly, be easily written off as the results of simple teenaged clumsiness and a natural result of playing a contact sport. It frustrated the sixteen year old to no end that, even in the off season for lacrosse, he just didn't have enough evidence to prove his friend was in an unsafe environment at home. Even when he's suspiciously absent the day after the results of the first big exam after the school year began were sent home. Stiles had seen the way Isaac had paled when he'd seen his grade the day before, the way his friend seemed to shut down the closer the end of the school day came. By the time school ended, Isaac had practically gone comatose and had to basically be guided onto his bus. When Isaac hadn't shown up to first period that morning, Stiles had been concerned but hadn't really thought too much about it, he'd been late to school before, after all. But now it was lunch time, and Stiles hadn't seen hide nor hair of his friend since just after school the day before, and he was getting genuinely worried for him.

Stiles had almost made up his mind to text his dad about a possible missing person's case when suddenly a lunch tray was set down next to his own. Startled out of his thoughts, Stiles looked up, hoping beyond hope that it was just Isaac, but his senses caught up to him as his new table companion sat down. "Stilinski," Jackson Whittemore said, looking everywhere but at Stiles, and lacking the usual hostility he held towards him.

"Whittemore," he replied, more than a little confused and extremely wary of what the head douche canoe wanted from him.

"I noticed Lahey has been absent today," the blond remarked idly as he started digging into his food, acting as though him sitting amicably with Stiles wasn't the absolute weirdest thing to happen in years.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Jackson and started on his own food. "Yeah, I noticed," Stiles agreed hesitantly, honestly thrown by the blond's shift in attitude. He took a barely noticeable sniff and caught the scent of deep frustration and fury nearly masked by some rather potent determination and Jackson's expensive cologne.

Jackson hummed around a mouthful before swallowing. "Y'know, I heard some awfully suspicious sounds coming from across the street last night," he offered as he glanced at Stiles from the corner of his eye. "Figured you'd like to know."

Taking another discreet sniff, Stiles could smell Jackson's honesty and his helplessness. Jackson was desperate to help Isaac, Stiles suddenly realized. He made a split second decision and pulled out his phone.

Me: is papa working tonight?

Mom: He's planning on it, why?

Me: got a new project im gonna be working on, he might wanna claim plausible deniability

Mom: Stiles...

Me: nothing outright illegal! Or that would get me in trouble!

Me: i think.

Me: would plotting to get a friend out of a dangerous situation with a potentially former enemy count as something that would get me in trouble?

Mom: I'll make sure Peter's home...

Me: thanks mama, youre the best!

"My house, after school, bring Danny and any evidence you have," Stiles said putting his phone away and going back to his lunch. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jackson relax as a brief whiff of relief entered the blond's scent. "My dad's at work tonight, so anything not outright illegal is fair game. We're breaking Isaac out of there as soon as we have something substantial we can give my dad."

Jackson pocketed his apple and grabbed his mostly empty lunch tray before standing up. "Deal, Stilinski. See you after school. Later, loser," he called as he walked away, though the insult was almost... Teasing, in a way.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out, Jackass!" Stiles playfully called back. Jackson gave him the bird over his shoulder which almost sent Stiles laughing hysterically. Who knew the thing they needed to get over their childhood animosity of each other was a shared goal and a common enemy that didn't have anything to do with lacrosse?

=============×∆×=============

It took the three of them just over three weeks to finally gather enough evidence of abuse to compile the legally (and mostly legally) obtained stuff for easier access. Danny had been put in charge of anything and everything technological in origin, up to and including (at his own instance) taping into Isaac's attendance record for the current school year. ("Transcribing more than this year's attendance records would look extremely suspicious. We aren't far enough into the school year for it to be too weird for at least Stiles to have been keeping track of Isaac's attendance since school started." "Okay, that's fair, but why do we need to back track his attendance for this year in the first place, isn't what we have already between us enough?" "We're establishing a pattern, which will hopefully lead the authorities to look deeper into his previous attendance records as well as security footage for further evidence that we have no way of legally obtaining on our own." "Alright, that's fair...") Jackson was keeping track of any beatings that got loud enough for him to hear, recording start times, end times, and any points where it seemed things got particularly violent. He did this both on paper and with a high end microphone set up in his window, which faced the Lahey household, recording as much of the audio as possible. Stiles, on the other hand, was keeping track of any and all injuries, their locations, their severity, as well as when they showed up and how fast they seemed to be healing, if they had the opportunity to heal at all. ("I'm telling you, his hands are constantly banged up, and they're definitely not healing!" "Okay, okay, I believe you, I'm sorry I said anything!")

It was early Saturday morning when Stiles entered the sheriff's department with his two new best friends and a thumb drive metaphorically burning a hole in his pocket. "Hey, Tara! Is Dad in his office?" Stiles called out with a wave.

The deputy looked up from her desk with a grin. "Hey yourself, Stiles. Yeah, he's in there, grumbling about all the veggies you and your mom packed into his lunch box again. Don't worry, he's only had a single donut this week, we've been keeping track for you."

Stiles grinned. "You're the best, Tara. You guys are getting a whole apple pie next month as a thank you. Keep up the good work, deputies!" He called as he guided Jackson and Danny toward the sheriff's office, getting various greetings and cheers in response. Catching the confused looks from the duo, Stiles answered their unasked question in a quieter voice. "Dad's got bad cholesterol, but he doesn't appreciate the efforts Mom and I have been going through to decrease his risk factors and likes to sneak junk food as much as possible. Last year, I asked his deputies to help keep an eye on Dad's diet cheating, and I give them a pie when I feel like they've been doing a particularly good job at it. Since it's fall, and since deputy Danvers is allergic to pumpkin, they're getting apple this month."

Jackson made a noise of understanding while Danny nodded in thought. "My parents might have some recipes that you guys could try that are lower on cholesterol and taste really delicious, I could ask them if you'd like," he offered.

Stiles couldn't help but agree. He'd seen Danny's homemade lunches, but more importantly, he'd smelled them, and he could say without a shadow of a doubt that his papa would have a hard time saying no to anything the Mahealani's gave them to try.

Soon enough, though, they'd made it to the office. Stiles knocked a pattern, specifically chosen to let his dad know this wasn't just a social visit without letting others know anything was amiss. Without waiting for an answer, Stiles swung the door open with gusto and exclaimed, "Hey, there, Daddio! How's work been treating you?" He walked in and gestured the other two in to sit down. Once they were in, he shut the door and immediately got down to business. "We have cause to believe that Isaac Lahey is being abused, almost nightly, by his father," he said, tossing the thumb drive onto his father's desk before walking over to lean against the wall with his arms crossed against his chest.

=============×∆×=============

Noah blinked at his son and the two mostly familiar faces sitting across from him before looking down at the thumb drive sitting oh so innocently on his desk and sighed. "Please tell me there's nothing on here that will force me to arrest one or all of you?"

Stiles scoffed in mock offense. "Excuse you, sir, do you know who I am?"

"Yeah, my son," Noah deadpanned, already reaching out for the thumb drive. All jokes aside, he knew his son well enough to know that if he was giving him the thumb drive at the office, it was at least mostly clean and wouldn't criminally incriminate any of the three teenagers currently in his office. Now, if he'd handed it to him at home... All bets were off.

As his son played up his spluttering, Noah inserted the drive into his work desktop and waited for it to load, taking the time to really observe the two young men sitting across from him. It took him a moment to place them as Jackson Whittemore and Danny Mahealani, the new captain and the goalie for the school's lacrosse team. They were also, according to his wife, kids who Stiles used to barely tolerate but was now spending a lot of time with, usually at their house where Peter helped her keep an eye on them. Danny's name and face didn't bring anything specific to mind, other than Stiles telling the pack about how cool Danny was for being openly out of the closet, how everyone at school loved Danny, and that Danny's biggest flaw was the fact that he was best friends with Jackson Whittemore. Jackson, on the other hand, did bring a few things to mind, such as who his adoptive parents were, who his biological parents were, as well as what had happened to them. But it was Jackson's face that was drawing Noah up short. Because he recognized some of those features from his own time in high school, the name of the person they reminded him of was right on the tip of his tongue, but before he could figure it out, the thumb drive had loaded and his attention was pulled to the potential new case the three teens had given him, and all thoughts of who Jackson reminded him of were pushed to the back of his mind.

Oh well. If it was important, it'd come back to him eventually, right?

"Okay, now do the three of you want to walk me through what you've got here?" Noah asked, turning his monitor so that they'd all be able to see. The shared looks of grim determination had Noah stealing himself for the worst. If Stiles wasn't smirking in triumph at finally having something to give him concerning Isaac's home situation, then things had to be pretty bad. Either way, if the law can help, then I'll make sure that kid gets as much help as legally possible, Noah vowed to himself.

=============×∆×=============

TADA! I finally got chapter three of The Polar Bear Necessities written! And yes, there's quite a bit of a time skip between chapter two and chapter three, but for clarity's sake, the events of canon aren't "due" to start until the end of the winter holidays, which are a few months away. It's my understanding that, in canon, Laura was lured back almost exactly six years after the fire, give or take a few weeks, and the fire canonically happened at the beginning of January, so that's what I'm basing my timeline off of (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

I will have you all know, this chapter almost didn't happen because the chapter I was planning on writing today is the one that'll be written next lol it was as I was planning the now fifth chapter that I realized I needed a chapter between chapter two and the chapter I was originally planning on writing today, so I instead wrote this one and all the plotting and brainstorming that I did originally has been set aside for chapter four! (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ I'm just glad I caught it while I was still brainstorming lol if I had already been writing, then I'd have been screwed (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

I hope the interaction between Jackson and Stiles was believable, I have this personal headcanon that, by the time they'd reached high school, 98% of Jackson's problem with Stiles was his over-the-top crush on Lydia as well as his constant defense of Scott McCall (I'm not that big of a Scott McCall fan), so in a world where Stiles had no real reason to befriend Scott while at the hospital, and Claudia was there to help curb the worst of his crush on Lydia, Jackson and Stiles would only be antagonistic towards each other out of habit more than anything else. At least, that's my take on it ╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠╭

Have a good morning/day/night!

[captainjonnitkessler]

You know I used to think "tumblr's absolute refusal to actually engage with the Trolley Problem in favor of insisting that there must be a third, morally pure option that doesn't require them to make a hard decision and anyone who asks them to make a binary choice is just a short-sighted idiot is really fucking annoying, but I guess it's not actually doing any harm".

Anyway that was before we asked tumblr at large to decide between "guy aiding a genocide but making progress elsewhere" and "guy who would actively and enthusiastically participate in a genocide and would also make everything else much, much worse for everyone elsewhere" and the response was that there must be a third, morally pure option that doesn't require them to make a hard decision and that anyone who asks them to make a binary choice is a short-sighted idiot.

[endusviolence]

Rowling isn't denying holocaust. She just pointed out that burning of transgender health books is a lie as that form of cosmetic surgery didn't exist. But of course you knew that already, didn't you?

I was thinking I'd probably see one of you! You're wrong :) Let's review the history a bit, shall we?

In this case, what we're talking about is the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or in English, The Institute of Sexology. This Institute was founded and headed by a gay Jewish sexologist named Magnus Hirschfeld. It was founded in July of 1919 as the first sexology research clinic in the world, and was run as a private, non-profit clinic. Hirschfeld and the researchers who worked there would give out consultations, medical advice, and even treatments for free to their poorer clientele, as well as give thousands of lectures and build a unique library full of books on gender, sexuality, and eroticism. Of course, being a gay man, Hirschfeld focused a lot on the gay community and proving that homosexuality was natural and could not be "cured".

Hirschfeld was unique in his time because he believed that nobody's gender was either one or the other. Rather, he contended that everyone is a mixture of both male and female, with every individual having their own unique mix of traits.

This leads into the Institute's work with transgender patients. Hirschfeld was actually the one to coin the term "transsexual" in 1923, though this word didn't become popular phrasing until 30 years later when Harry Benjamin began expanding his research (I'll just be shortening it to trans for this brief overview.) For the Institute, their revolutionary work with gay men eventually began to attract other members of the LGBTA+, including of course trans people.

Contrary to what Anon says, sex reassignment surgery was first tested in 1912. It'd already being used on humans throughout Europe during the 1920's by the time a doctor at the Institute named Ludwig Levy-Lenz began performing it on patients in 1931. Hirschfeld was at first opposed, but he came around quickly because it lowered the rate of suicide among their trans patients. Not only was reassignment performed at the Institute, but both facial feminization and facial masculization surgery were also done.

The Institute employed some of these patients, gave them therapy to help with other issues, even gave some of the mentioned surgeries for free to this who could not afford it! They spoke out on their behalf to the public, even getting Berlin police to help them create "transvestite passes" to allow people to dress however they wanted without the threat of being arrested. They worked together to fight the law, including trying to strike down Paragraph 175, which made it illegal to be homosexual. The picture below is from their holiday party, Magnus Hirschfeld being the gentleman on the right with the fabulous mustache. Many of the other people in this photo are transgender.

[Image ID: A black and white photo of a group of people. Some are smiling at the camera, others have serious expressions. Either way, they all seem to be happy. On the right side, an older gentleman in glasses- Magnus Hirschfeld- is sitting. He has short hair and a bushy mustache. He is resting one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him. His other hand is being held by a person to his left. Another person to his right is holding his shoulder.]

There was always push back against the Institute, especially from conservatives who saw all of this as a bad thing. But conservatism can't stop progress without destroying it. They weren't willing to go that far for a good while. It all ended in March of 1933, when a new Chancellor was elected. The Nazis did not like homosexuals for several reasons. Chief among them, we break the boundaries of "normal" society. Shortly after the election, on May 6th, the book burnings began. The Jewish, gay, and obviously liberal Magnus Hirschfeld and his library of boundary-breaking literature was one of the very first targets. Thankfully, Hirschfeld was spared by virtue of being in Paris at the time (he would die in 1935, before the Nazis were able to invade France). His library wasn't so lucky.

This famous picture of the book burnings was taken after the Institute of Sexology had been raided. That's their books. Literature on so much about sexuality, eroticism, and gender, yes including their new work on trans people. This is the trans community's Alexandria. We're incredibly lucky that enough of it survived for Harry Benjamin and everyone who came after him was able to build on the Institute's work.

[Image ID: A black and white photo of the May Nazi book burning of the Institute of Sexology's library. A soldier, back facing the camera, is throwing a stack of books into the fire. In the background of the right side, a crowd is watching.]

As the Holocaust went on, the homosexuals of Germany became a targeted group. This did include transgender people, no matter what you say. To deny this reality is Holocaust denial. JK Rowling and everyone else who tries to pretend like this isn't reality is participating in that evil. You're agreeing with the Nazis.

But of course, you knew that already, didn't you?

Edit: Added image IDs. I apologize to those using screen readers for forgetting them. Please reblog this version instead.

[stil-lindigo]

lighthearted.

if this comic resonated with you, please consider donating to this palestinian escape fund (vetted by @/nabulsi and @/el-shab-hussein) as it is less than $7,000 away from it's goal.

i turn 24 today. To celebrate, I made this comic to be a spiritual successor to lead balloon, a comic in which I talked about the darkest period of my life so far.

A lot has changed since my 23rd birthday and this one. My priorities have shifted a lot, in ways that I think are mostly good. But i think the best part about today is that suicide has gone back to being a far away notion. I'm really lucky, and I'm grateful for that.

[jasminebythebay]

Sonic's Team (2024) and Sonic Team (1999-ish?)

[ink-the-artist]

mage

[were-wolverine]

dick grayson (5’10” with the body of a gymnast): this is my baby brother!

jason todd (6’3” brick wall of muscle): …hi

***

cass wayne (5’5” with the body of a dancer): little brother!

jason (almost a whole foot taller than her): hiya cass

[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.

[lightbulb-warning]

(You make a grand gesture towards Mirabelle as if presenting a marvelous art piece.)

[muzzlemouths]

"sleeper agent" this and "the brainrot returned" that. those robots have had me by the throat since 2021 and they aren't letting go

[sherbet-requiem]

triforce trio

[farshootergotme]

Wait, how tf did I miss this.

Batman: Wayne Family Adventures #7

You're telling me Forever Evil happened in this universe? You're telling me SPYRAL happened in this universe? I'll have to hope that everything went down very differently because otherwise there's a lot to unpack there that clearly this comic isn't ready for.

[bluestation]

at work

[mydirtyvalentine]

received the greatest amount of psychic damage the first time i listened to the bedrock

[jojo-the-dogg0]

actually obsessed with their old design...