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jariten · 2 days ago

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Roundup-Catch up: August 2024!!

Let's catch up! Looking back at my list of August reads my head spins a bit. Most of this year I got way too eager picking up series from my shelf or the library and was juggling maybe 5 series at once. Which did a huge disservice to the reading experience for some of those series as I wasn't giving them my full attention. It wasn't until August I managed to wrap up most of them and enter the more focused way of following or reading through a series that I had previously. But in the frenzy I still had some great reads.

I had always heard whispers of No Longer Heroine by Momoko Koda but I'd never crossed paths with it. But when the english run of My Love Mix-up ended I had a huge contemporary High School Romance shaped hole in my heart and this is one of the titles that's filled it (I will get to the rest). I love mess, I love stories of teenagers learning to navigate the minefield that is human relationships so I can be the opposite of nostalgic for a time that, praise be, I will never have to relive. But I also read titles like this wondering how a constructive conversation around it could be had among young readers who from my experience can come off very frustrated and unsympathetic to the type of drama it depicts where the heroine and hero's feelings and decisions are extremely irrational and reckless. I really like the Yen Press, but as a license acquisition it feels kinda random? And in my honest opinion if you're 10 years late to a title you kinda have to make it an omnibus or collectors edition because waiting for individual volumes for, again, an over 10 year old series is pretty frustrating. But I will stick around to the end.

Yumiko Ōshima's Sava series was one of my favorites of 2022. The way she captures me with stories where honestly "nothing" really "happens" just floored me and made me optimistic for Goo Goo Datte Neko de Aru. A diary comic that begins with the passing of the cat Sava and her purchase of the cat Goo Goo (Short for Good Good). But Goo Goo isn't the only cat that enters her life. In rather rapid succession stray kittens begin entering her life. We follow for over a decade her journey rescuing, rehoming, and caretaking of countless stray cats (the latter to the dismay of her neighbours). Reading it today it highlights the challenges of clashing attitudes over stray cats and how these populations should be taken care of if at all. Famously it is also a chronicle of her cancer survival journey but its a rather short part of the whole but nonetheless maintains the Ōshima charm.

I want to make a gift recommendation for the upcoming holiday season: Your Letter by Hyeon A Cho. While I've had some really really good encounters with Korean Manhwa, Webtoons is still a world unknown to me. I think the Ize Press initiative bringing Webtoons to print in english is extremely cool, but the lineup just hasn't had any titles that caught my eye. Until Your Letter. A 10 chapter single volume story that I liked so much for its artistic presentation and the story it was telling about bullying and finding your place in a new environment that I immediately was overcome with the need to pass it along, which I did. Really think it would make a great gift for anyone 5th grade and up who are interested in comics. OR it can be read for free in its entirety on Webtoon!

Satou Gashi no Ie by Kyoko Fumizuki was a title picked up a bit at random. I'd gotten a taste of her work in the Suki Desu, Kono Shoujo Manga anthology and was one of the more memorable entries in an already extremely well curated collection. Satou Gashi no Ie is a 5 story one-shot collection with to meeee back to back hits. The titular story centres on a teenage boy named Richard who suddenly appears at his childhood's friend Elsie's school with a baby in his arms, that he claims to be his, and that he's a widower. But there are too many holes in his story. Who exactly is the baby's mother and how did he come to care for her at the end of her life? And how does this change Richard and Elsie's relationship? There's a warmth to Fumizuki's artistry in this era and the way that she hits all the story beats that really drew me in and augh I honestly have no words for it. This collection really stood out and among her peers I've yet to read anyone who could compose manga exactly like this. And you know what's cool? You can (In Japanese) read this and a handful of her other work from the same era for FREE on Manga Library Z!! (JP only) NOTE: crazy enough, on this very day (Nov 26) Manga Library Z suspended services but diligent users of nyaa have made sure that the works available there live on

#roundup #long post #recommendation corner #my scans #wish there had been a pop up about the suspension there wasnt anything eyecatching on the site at all yesterday 😭

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storiesabouteli · 1 day ago

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TellTales // Elijah Hewson X Reader! (Fluff) Part1 of 2.

prompt: It's a narration of how they are young and in a way they share differences, but they are in love. It takes place in a student environment (college) and continues with a car trip and in the next part reader meets the boys, the fic is just about how they feel about each other in the midst of everyday life and a relationship that is new. And although I commented on sexual relations, I did not describe the act itself, there is no smut. (This story is from my old blog, it's very old, and I decided to rewrite it)

words: 3K

You tiptoed your way through the bleachers, scanning the crowd for him. You hadn’t explicitly asked him to come, but you’d dropped enough hints to hope he’d show up. Deep down, you understood if he couldn’t make it, but the thought of him not being there still left a pang of sadness.

Either way, he’d be picking you up shortly after the game ended. You’d agreed to spend the weekend with some of his bandmates and their girlfriends. You recognized them from glimpses in the hallways and the gigs you’d attended, but meaningful interactions with them had been rare. You were aware of the reputation you’d unintentionally acquired in that social circle but didn’t let it bother you.

You hadn’t dated much in life. In fact, Elijah was the only person you’d ever been involved with—both emotionally and physically. While that choice sometimes stirred whispers or the occasional mean-spirited comment, it was clear that most people didn’t care, if anything, they just found it curious.

“How was last night?” your best friend asked, a knowing smirk on her face. Judging by your expression, she already suspected the answer.

“It was… great,” you admitted, the butterflies in your stomach still fluttering from the memory. Your hands felt clammy, and your nervous cheeks were impossible to hide.

“Was sex with Elijah really that good?” There was a teasing edge in her tone, but you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or sarcastic. You elbowed her, though the heat in your face only deepened.

“Did he take charge? Or was all the work left to you?” she continued, her grin widening. You rolled your eyes, but her playful jab stayed in your head longer than you’d care to admit.

Hiding your face in your hands, you realized she just wanted to embarrass you. Asking her to lower her voice, she laughed and agreed, though it was clear she expected more details. It was your first time with Eli, and you’d been nervous—something entirely unusual for you from her perspective. Naturally, she wanted to know everything.

You decided to keep most of it to yourself, knowing she’d get the picture. You settled on something simple: “He’s not shy, but in a good way. He’s... observant, and he made good use of that. He’s fine,” you said, biting your lip to contain a smile. But the memory of him holding you, the way his hands moved so assuredly, and the soft sighs and muffled moans you’d shared—it all came flooding back, making your heart crazy. You didn’t know how, but it had been intimate and irresistibly sexy, leaving you on the brink of tears from the overwhelming connection. You couldn’t wait to be with him again.

She nodded knowingly, her expression softening at your obvious happiness. “It’s nice that you have him. I’m glad for you. He seems like a great guy.”

Her words made you smile, but they also left you feeling a little unsettled. Eli was your complete opposite in so many ways. You had no doubts that he liked you, but the thought of him realizing how easily he could find someone better lingered in your mind.

You were popular, but it was something that had happened by accident rather than design. You didn’t care about it much, though you appreciated the “good girl” image that came with it. Eli, on the other hand, had a laid-back, effortlessly cool demeanor. He wasn’t concerned with appearances and didn’t seem to care about what others thought. Maybe that was something you needed to learn from him.

Even your interests didn’t align much, but so far, things had been going well.

Lost in your thoughts, your friend shook your shoulders, snapping you back to reality. She turned you toward the crowd, and her grin widened when she saw your face light up. There he was—his messy curls catching the light.

“Damn, you really got Hewson to come to a college game,” she teased.

You couldn’t help but laugh nervously. It wasn’t exactly his scene. The echoing cheers of the players and the squeals of the cheerleaders were likely grating to him, but there he was, leaning casually in the back corner. You tried not to let your nerves spiral as you wondered how he felt about all this, about you.

Before you could respond, you spotted him in the distance. Your heart skipped a beat. He looked serious, like he’d rather be anywhere else, and for a moment, doubt crept in. But then his eyes found yours. His expression softened, his hands in his jacket pockets, and his lips curled into a small smile.

You waved enthusiastically, and to your relief, he lit up, waving back just as excitedly. He brushed his hair back, standing still in that secluded spot, and blew you a kiss. A few people nearby noticed, and his cheeks turned pink, but he didn’t seem to care. Your Eli was there.

You threw him a kiss in return, and with his typical playful flair, he pretended to catch it, tucking it into his pocket. It was such a simple, teasing gesture, yet it made your heart swell. He might not love the setting, but he was there for you.

As you turned back to your position on the court, you couldn’t help but steal another glance at him. He looked proud, as though being there and seeing you so happy made everything worth it.

The performance began, and you gave it your all—the dances, the spins, the choreography. A small part of you felt self-conscious, knowing he was watching. While you were sure he wouldn’t judge you, this wasn’t his thing, and you worried about what he thought.

But when your eyes found his again, there was no doubt. It was you. He was there because of you. And that was all that mattered.

The game ended, and as you and the girls announced the final score, thanking everyone for coming, your focus was already elsewhere. You didn’t even register who was speaking to you as you made your way toward Eli. His smile didn’t falter, and he opened his arms wide, waiting for you.

Instinctively, you ran into him, throwing your arms around his neck. He caught you with ease, lifting you slightly off the ground as his arms tightened around you. Without hesitation, he adjusted your skirt, his hand lingering protectively to keep it in place. You had noticed this habit of his before, and though you found it sweet, you hadn’t told him yet that you always wore shorts underneath. You were sure he knew, but the gesture was heartwarming.

You buried your face in his hair, letting the softness of his curls surround you. He nuzzled into your neck in return, inhaling deeply as if to draw comfort from your scent. For a moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, while the noise and chaos of the game faded into the background.

When your feet touched the ground again, you lingered there, gazing at one another in a rare moment of silence. The world around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the warmth in his caramel eyes and the soft curve of his lips.

You took a small step further, closing the distance between you, and kissed him. It wasn’t tentative—it was the kind of kiss that spoke volumes, a mixture of longing and familiarity. You could taste the faint trace of gum on his tongue, a detail you’d remember fondly later. His hands trailed over your sides, light and deliberate, grounding you in the moment. He felt like calm, like home, and you melted into him, despite the murmurs and stares from the crowd.

The kiss ended quickly but left a deep impression. His hands stayed firmly on your waist, keeping you close, while your gaze was on his lips, too shy to meet his eyes just yet. He broke the silence with a soft kiss to your cheek, then your forehead, dotting your skin with gentle pecks that made you nervous. He always did this, and every time, it made you fall for him all over again.

“Sorry for being late,” he said, his voice low and apologetic. “Josh needed the car.” He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders in one smooth motion, pausing to kiss the top of your head. “Keep it—you look cold.”

You clutched the jacket tightly, enveloped by his warmth and the faint smell of him in the fabric. “I don’t mind,” you replied, light and genuine. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back, intertwining your fingers. “I know this isn’t your favorite place, so it means a lot to me that you came tonight.”

Eli didn’t respond right away, his mind swirling with thoughts about the people around him, whom he saw as unremarkable, living to meet expectations rather than exploring life’s possibilities. It was an opinion he had once extended to you, long before he became enamored with the way you danced, your laugh ringing through the halls, and your quiet determination to pursue what you loved. Now, he saw you differently. You weren’t just going through the motions—you genuinely enjoyed being there, with your friends and your passions.

Such a realization had led him to fill your locker with letters—awkward yet heartfelt, each building the bridge to this very moment.

He rubbed his thumb over your palm, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “I’ll be here as many times as necessary,” he murmured. “I like to see you happy.”

His words made your goofy smile return full force. He placed a hand gently on the small of your back, guiding you toward his car.

Eli’s ears were still flushed as he opened the door for you, and you couldn’t help but wish for more of that.

...

He sifted through his belongings, handpicking a few tapes and placing them on your lap. "Pick one," he said, anticipation lacing his voice.

You scanned the options before spotting a familiar purple cover. "Oh my God, it's Kate Bush!" you exclaimed, grinning ear to ear. It was surreal. Even as he kept his eyes on the road, his presence filled the small, borrowed car.

"Josh mentioned you were a fan," he said casually.

"And you went and got it for me?" you asked eagerly, pressing play without hesitation.

He nodded, watching your smile grow with every note.

Before he could say anything, you squealed and leaned over to kiss his cheek quickly, careful to avoid causing any accidents. Feeling at ease with him, you mimicked Kate’s vocals, exaggerating your facial expressions to match the drama of her delivery. He chuckled, thankful to Josh for tipping him off about the tape.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, lil' one," he murmured, his voice warm. Your enthusiasm for the lyrics matched his quiet contentment in seeing you well.

He didn’t know the words or the instrumentation but encouraged you to keep going, like your number-one fan.

"Did you know David Gilmour kind of discovered Kate Bush?" you asked between breaths.

"I’ve heard that somewhere," he replied, prompting you to share more. He liked Pink Floyd, you knew that.

"It’s like we’re all interconnected, isn’t it?" you mused, glancing at him solemnly before turning back to the road, tapping the melody out with your fingers. "I kind of like the thought of it."

"Yeah, it’s a nice thought," he agreed, his chest filling with a quiet warmth. Not ready to let the conversation fade, he added, "So, have you been checking out any of the bands I like?"

The world seemed to slow down for a moment. You noticed the softness in Eli’s features, a rare, relaxed smile that only appeared when he was with you. In other settings—classes, the cafeteria, gigs—he maintained his usual unbothered demeanor, some cool smiles yet nothing more, which you found charming, but this version of him was your favorite.

He placed his large hand gently on your thigh, not moving it but bringing you a sense of comfort. You fingered the rings and felt the more prominent veins on his skin. Smiling, you placed your hand over his, threading your fingers through his long ones. Even brief touches like this filled you with quiet joy.

"I have," you admitted, feeling a little shy. "I wanted to hear what you liked, and I found one I really enjoyed."

His eyes widened in disbelief, and for a moment, you feared he might crash the car. But Eli, ever grounded, kept things steady. "No way! You've reached Blackstar?"

The thing was, you already knew Bowie, of course, but Eli saw him through a unique lens. He had favorite albums and endless commentary about every track. After spending hours with you the night before, he’d gone home, obsessed with crafting a perfect playlist to introduce you to his idol. He never imagined you’d actually listen.

"I did," you confirmed, suppressing a laugh at his attempt to maintain his unbothered facade, though it failed to hide the goofy smile creeping onto his face.

You grinned and began to sing, “Just like that bluebird, oh, I’ll be free…” pretending to hold a microphone.

He smiled as if he’d just won the lottery. “Just like that bluebird, oh, I’ll be free. Ain’t that just like me…” he sang back, pouring affection into every note.

Bowie’s words felt like home, like the perfect bridge between you. Eli never spared feelings when it came to sharing his passions, not like that, not for any special one, even when he initially thought your differences might be too vast. He was starting to see the beauty in complementing perspectives.

You loved Bowie, though not quite as much as he did. And, much like him with Kate Bush, you were learning to appreciate the depth of the connection through each other’s eyes.

...

You were asleep, your hand resting on Eli's arm as he drove down the empty highway. He glanced at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he watched you sleep peacefully.

Suddenly, as if your mind had been waiting for it, you jolted awake, gasping for air and clutching your chest. Your body trembled as you struggled to catch your breath.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Eli said, his tone soothing as he reached over, gently rubbing your back. "Just take deep breaths with me, huh?"

You nodded, your eyes wide with fear. "I'm sorry," you whispered, guilt heavy in your voice.

"Don't be sorry," Elijah said firmly, his gaze unwavering. "You're not bothering me. I just want to make sure you're fine, babe. Are you good?"

Leaning back against the seat, you inhaled deeply, trying to calm yourself. "It's just...a nightmare. I get them sometimes, and they're always hard to shake off."

"I see," Elijah murmured. "I've been there with you before, remember?" His sweet smile softened his words as he squeezed your hand. And it was true-it wasn't the first time, and you didn't need to feel ashamed. "We'll get through this, okay?"

Pulling the car to the side of the road, he opened the windows and doors to let in the crisp, early morning air. You sat quietly, watching as the sky began to shift, the first rays of dawn painting the horizon with soft light.

"It's so nice, quite beautiful," you murmured, feeling an odd sense of peace settling over you. Small but present, a reminder that he didn’t see you as a problem to be dealt with.

Eli nodded. "Yeah, it is. Like you, when you're comfortable like this," he added, immediately regretting his words, fearing they might sound wrong.

You smiled warmly, your face heating at his unintended confession, making Eli relax. "Thank you."

He reached into the backseat and grabbed a comforter, draping it over you with care. He made sure you were snug and warm, his movements gentle as he tucked you in.

Stopping briefly, he stood silently by the car, watching you shift restlessly under the duvet. Your eyes stayed locked on him, steady and observant. Though your breathing had calmed, you didn't seem ready to sleep again.

"Do you want me to stay here until you sleep?" His voice carried a mix of awkwardness and worry.

"No," you said after a pause, your gaze lingering on his hands gripping the steering wheel and the way his lips were reddened from nervous biting. Your breath hitched faintly, betraying your unease. "Actually, we could stay here for a while." You loosened the duvet, the warmth of the moment overtaking your earlier chill.

He arched a brow, his features shadowed in the dim light. "Okay, but you feel good, right?”

"Yeah, just can't sleep," you admitted, your hand brushing over his shoulder and trailing to the back of his neck, seeking the comfort of his warmth. "Come closer. I want to feel you." You tugged him toward you, your words low and certain.

And Eli had that moment of realization, noticing how different you were from what others perceived, from the image they had built of you. He loved that—that this raw, genuine side of you was something only he had access to.

Eli hesitated for a second before leaning in, his nose brushing against your cheek. His lips met yours, soft and hesitant at first, contrasting with the sudden urgency in your touch. He melted into the seat, his hand naturally finding your waist as the kiss deepened.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath uneven. The darkness obscured his face, but you could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came.

"I like how you taste," you whispered, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The warmth of his breath brushed your skin as you trailed kisses from his lips to his nose, playfully licking his parted mouth along the way.

Your laughter filled the car when you noticed how flustered he had become. You relished the effect you had on him, thinking about how you might use it to your advantage in the future.

Before Eli could lean in for another kiss, his usual lovesick expression plastered on his face, you leaned closer, your voice dropping to a mischievous whisper.

"I need a favor, if you don't mind.”

...

You stopped in a dark, desolate spot, your hand crazy with sweat as nerves took hold. Elijah could tell you were uneasy about being out in the middle of nowhere.

"El, I don’t want to be alone," you murmured, your voice drowsy but trembling with it all.

He didn’t question it, just as he didn’t even consider leaving you behind. Truthfully, he wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea of braving the rickety gas station alone either, even if it was just to relieve himself.

He nodded, his expression steady, trying to ease the tension in your own. The worry was etched across your face, and Elijah knew you tended to spiral into pessimistic thoughts in situations like this. He couldn’t begin to guess the scenarios playing out in your mind, but he was determined to dispel them.

"Look," he said quickly, color rushing to his cheeks and necks, "I’ll step outside, stay by the car, and just use the tree right here. I won’t go far, I won’t leave your sight, and I’ll shut the door so you’ll still feel safe. Just, uh… don’t look, y’know? That’d be awkward."

You nodded, avoiding his gaze as your hands fumbled for the radio, turning up the volume to drown out any sound from outside. It was a flimsy attempt to preserve the boundary of intimacy, even for something as brief and mundane as this. Still, you couldn’t deny his plan made sense, even if it left you feeling slightly on edge.

—

Part 2 will be posted soon! Promise!

#elijah hewson #elijah hewson x reader #inhaler dublin #elijah hewson fanfic #elijah hewson smut #elijah hewson imagines #inhaler #elijah hewson one shot #josh jenkinson

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superdillin · 2 days ago

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The Time We Have

The Time We Have campaign ends soon and I REALLY want as many people as possible to experience this game. I also wanna talk about my experiences playing it!!

I've played this game twice so far. Once was private, with my friend @rowanzeoli, and once on recording for One Shot, with @morebluebs

I have brothers, but I didn't grow up with brothers, and there's the whole "raised a girl" thing so I was a little worried that the dynamic would be too unrelatable for me to truly get the most out of the game. OH! I was wrong.

I would never lay all my emotional cards out on the table for public consumption, because goodness knows that's not healthy to do. Trust me, the game Elliot and I played is emotional, and real, but still has a thin filter of the public boundary layered over it. But in that private game with Rowan I really, really did put it all out, as did she. I sat locked inside my bathroom with Rowan on the other side, and realized that I was playing through a scenario I spend a lot of time thinking about as a chronically sick person - saying goodbye and knowing I'm leaving people behind. Rowan was playing my little brother, someone who felt like I already had abandoned him when I left him home on his own with our homophobic parents. And then, in that moment, I'm leaving again forever, and won't be able to protect him from the horrors outside.

Gang, in all these years being sick, I've gone to so much therapy about confronting mortality, and how to cope with those anxieties. Sitting in that closed white room and playing out my own end of life with someone I love so much took a blacklight to all the unseen critters that I did not realize were crawling through the sheets of my subconscious. And of course that's not enough, because games aren't therapy*, but those are things I now talk about, with my loved ones, with my therapist, with myself. And when that door re-opened and I hugged Rowan we were 10 times the friends we were before. We sat on my couch with a drink, pulling on all the loose threads that the game experience made us aware of and unraveling them with each other. Identity and love and unfinished business and how we are all burdened by each other and why that is beautiful. I learned her life story, she learned mine, we shared insights and wisdom and every so often we kept pointing back to something that was said in that game that lit that part of our real self up.

Playing through themes like this is something that a few years ago, I would never have touched. I came into the hobby a little traumatized and green and I just wasn't ready to use games in this kind of deep and existential way. It was all escapism, no introspection. This game in particular makes me feel so grateful that I've gotten to a place where games can be as deep and as uncomfortable for me as they have the capacity to be.

I think this game is a little window to Elliot's enormous heart, and it speaks directly to mine, and I hope others will love it all the same.

Go back the game please:

*games are like, a little bit therapy. I know that's taboo to say, but like. Lots of things are therapy. These things are not so black and white. I could say more but that's not what this is about.

#ttrpg #rpg #gaming

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thebibutterflyao3 · 19 hours ago

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Characterisation often includes nuance that is easily overlooked, but this would be very OOC for James. Not that an Out of Character head canon is bad! It can be quite interesting to read. For the sake of my obsession with him though, I have to delve deeper. Motivation matters in character development, and it’s a special interest of mine.

James was raised in a loving, posh home and spoiled rotten, giving him a foundation of generosity and compassion, as well as an overinflated ego and unearned confidence. He is thoughtful and kind with his friends, but reckless and an obnoxious show-off publicly. His savior complex develops from ego and self-gratification. He never even considered one of his friends betraying him. There isn’t a suspicious bone in his body. If he’s an arsehole to someone (coughSnapecough), it’s because he doesn’t like the person. Simple as that.

Unlike Harry, who grew up in an abusive, neglectful household, constantly told he was worthless and useless. Harry’s paranoia and his version of a savior complex develop as a trauma response. He regularly risks his own life to protect others because he didn’t have anyone to protect him. He saves others because he believes no one else will, and is motivated entirely by fear and anxiety. Harry is inherently anxious, suspicious, and secretive, even keeping his own pain hidden from his friends.

Similarly to James and Harry, Regulus and Draco are also quite opposite. While I do think both Regulus and Draco thought rather highly of themselves, they have vastly different personalities.

Regulus was a year or two younger than Sirius and seemed to generally keep to himself. No one speaks of him at all except his brother, his house elf, and one minor comment from Slughorn (his former head of house). Not even Walburga’s painting talks about him. She certainly doesn’t sing his praises. Sirius tells us that Regulus chose to play the role expected of him rather than rebel or leave. He was likely a selective people-pleaser, avoided confrontation, and an introvert. He didn’t even advertise having taken the Dark Mark at 16 as far as we know. Sirius learns about it after Regulus dies around two years later.

While James probably knew of him, it’s unlikely he would have paid much attention to his best friend’s quiet, snobbish younger brother in school.

Draco, on the other hand, is loud, proud, and a nasty piece of work to everyone, even his friends. He bullies others for his own amusement (more like Sirius and James when they were young) and intentionally sets himself up as Harry’s foe. Draco draws attention to himself at every opportunity, and it’s only when he becomes strangely quiet and withdrawn that Harry begins following him. When Draco acts as he normally does, Harry just fumes and retaliates, but when Draco’s personality and behavior shifts in a dramatic way, that is what makes Harry suspicious of him.

As much as I like the James Potter that immediately is nice to Regulus, I feel like he would more of be like- hating him just as much, if not more, as Regulus pretends (?) to hate James. And to the point of obsession too. Just constantly paranoid and trying to prove that Regulus is planning his downfall or something dramatic

And everyone else is just confused as hell the whole time

#james potter #regulus black #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #jegulus #drarry #marauders

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giantkillerjack · 2 years ago

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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".

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.

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.

#hlep #original #mental health #my sympathies and empathies to anyone who has to rely on this kind of hlep to get what they need.#the people in my life who most need to see this post are my family but even if they did I sincerely doubt they would internalize it #i've tried to break thru to them so many times it makes my head hurt. so i am focusing on boundaries and on finding other forms of support #and this thing i learned today helps me validate those boundaries. the example with the milk was from my therapist.#the example with the towing company was a real thing that happened with my parents a few months ago while I was age 28. 28!#a full adult age! it is so infantilizing as a disabled adult to seek assistance and support from ableist parents.#they were real mad i was mad tho. and the spoons i spent trying to explain it were only the latest in a long line of #huge family-related spoon expenditures. distance and the ability to enforce boundaries helps. haven't talked to sisters for literally the #longest period of my whole life. people really believe that if they love you and try to help you they can do no wrong.#and those people are NOT great allies to the chronically sick folks in their lives.#you can adore someone and still fuck up and hurt them so bad. will your pride refuse to accept what you've done and lash out instead?#or will you have courage and be kind? will you learn and grow? all of us have prejudices and practices we are not yet aware of.#no one is pure. but will you be kind? will you be a good friend? will you grow? i hope i grow. i hope i always make the choice to grow.#i hope with every year i age i get better and better at making people feel the opposite of how my family's ableism has made me feel #i will see them seen and hear them heard and smile at their smiles. make them feel smart and held and strong.#just like i do now but even better! i am always learning better ways to be kind so i don't see why i would stop

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