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 ask 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 helps reinforce 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!!
being trans & gender nonconforming is so hard. to Me my long nails are gender in a nosferatu way. to Me my long hair is gender in a metal dude way. to Me my height is gender in a columbo way. to the walmart cashier? to my coworkers, to aunt joan? to some guy at the store? i am some unkempt lady
& thats another thing about those mean-ass Trender Caricatures is like, yeah some trans people dont want to pass or are unable to pass or are closeted etc for various reasons & weve been through all those points time and time again but also like, something that looks traditionally gendered to you might have a different meaning to someone else. maybe you cant see it from where youre standing but that doesnt make it less important to them
I got a pet leech a few months ago and recently it started acting weird. I donāt know if it hibernates sleeps or just lies down that way, but it just lies around. Doesnāt suck onto the walls above water like usual, doesnāt do anything, just kinda lies there. No kink on the side, nothing wrong with the water, and the lid has holes for breathing, the tank is partially covered with a towel and in a dark corner on a table to prevent vibrations. But it still does that.
So, could you tell me if anythingās wrong with it?
Tgank you.
Leeches are pretty lazy animals but acting unusually lethargic could be a sign of illness. If there are no other symptoms itās hard to say what might be wrong so Iād recommend just adding some catappa leaves and monitoring itās behavior. Hopefully itās just being a sleepy little guy and will get more active when itās hungry again!
Leeches are surprisingly social animals.
They love to pile up with each other and they are hella curious.
Normally they have a whole pond to discover, and tons of other leeches.
And yeah, I had them in small glasses before, and the difference to being in a tank is just woah. They love to swim when they have the space, they cuddle each other, they hide under leaves, but they also love to get on their earth box to sun themselves, like wtf, they lounge on earth in full light, or do it on a big leave or other thing that keeps them over water, just relaxing like a floppy pasta for hours.
Sure, freshly caught leeches or those who are stressed after a transport from a breeder are frickin shy. The tiniest shadow falling over them or a vibration and they dive and hide, but after a few weeks they just keep laying on land and I can pet them and they keep laying there because they know nothing happens to them.
I put a swimming soil box with moss in their tank and did wonder if they would accept it. And now they dig through it, some leeches sleep in the soil, some stay in the water, they love it.
Your leech is bored, simple as that.
Give them some leeches for company, a tank with plants, stones, hideouts and snails and maybe some shrimps(the small bee ones, bigger ones like to eat leeches) and a shrimpsafe filter, and you will have a very active pasta family.
Sure, they are like cats, sleeping and cuddling 90% of the day, but when they get active, whooho, there is a party going on.
Transphobia is so antithetical to genuine feminism it blows my mind there's such a wide overlap like you either believe in autonomy and self determination or you don't
#you can't reconcile the feminist idea that men and women are equals with acting like they're different species
#the feminist idea that women are more than their reproductive systems with the one that womanhood is defined by a reproductive system
#the feminist idea that women don't need to adhere to arbitrary standards of femininity with the one that they do or they aren't women
#the feminist idea that women are allowed to have body hair and be tall or muscular with the one that they're to be scrutinized if they are
#the feminist idea that women as equals to men should be allowed to compete with them with the one that both must always be separated
#i can not consider terfism to be feminism in any fucking way
#and don't say 'no true scotsman' that's not it
#i don't consider feminists for the same reason i don't consider the democratic people's republic of korea a democracy #or nazism socialism. having feminist in their name does not mean their ideas are automatically feminist
#i've yet to meet a terf that actually cares about women more than about hating on trans folk
#there is no feminist belief that can come from someone who views women as vaginas with legs that are too frail to do anything men do
Tbh I feel bad for sapphics who think butch just means tall, buff models with trendy haircuts. Like y'all are missing out on so many hotties. Sometimes butches are chubby lil dudes or twinky academics or big fat biker ladies or leathery ropey tradeswomen or stubbled trannies who have fucked their gender to the nth degree (sup š).
I saw this, and then I had to think about how nowadays we are not too far from this mindset still.
Honour killings blaming the women for their death, and the *modern western* society is doing it in achingly similiar way while hailing themselves as better.
Still blaming women for their bad encounters with men for how they dress, how they act, if they are too nice, or too unfriendly and cause what happens to them.
Was it rape, or are they just trying to get back at them for a slight, were they too drunk or whatever...
The same mindset is still there.
Defending and pushing back is still a need.
I want you to reblog this if you believe that two people can be very close and physically affectionate with one another, but still have a completely nonsexual, non-romantic relationship.Ā
Even if the two people in question are capable of being sexually or romantically attracted to one another.Ā
Because the friendship I share with someone I consider family in a way that transcends blood has been typecast as a romantic relationship ENTIRELY too many times, and Iām beginning to get sick of it.Ā
Daniel Fenton, who punched the Joker one (1) time, and acts vaguely eldritch, having convinced 75% of Gotham that heās Batmanās secret identity on accident: what is happening.
The Batkids, certified little shits, hanging around him to fuel the rumors and throw people off Bruceās scent: Hi dad! :)
Danny, already sort-of a single parent, accidentally playing along too hard: oh. Guess Iām a father now.Ā
This would be so fun. I'm imagining Danny is is at least late 20s here, moved to Gotham after he got away from his dangerous parents as soon as possible but not before permanently disabling the portal. Jazz, Tucker, and Sam all moved on to follow their dreams and get away from Amity Park, but they still keep in touch. Maybe Jazz is working at Arkham now. Danny didn't need to stay somewhere with ambient ectoplasm because he can make a replacement portal with the tech he smuggled out of his parent's house, but he's more comfortable somewhere that has it.
So, he conned/stole Vlad out of some money (a lot), moved to Gotham as soon as he could, took a new last name, bought a small mixed use building (like business on main floor, residence above, basement below) to put a mini lab in the basement to refine ecto and have a portal.
I'm placing his new Haunt probably in Newtown, placing it just north of Crime Alley, east of the Botanical Gardens, just south of the entertainment pier, and relatively close over the river from the Wayne's manor and Arkham.
He then opens a coffee shop called The Haunt on the main floor. The ceiling and walls are painted like a green/blue nebula, and have some of his best ghost friends hidden in the designs. He gets a reputation for making coffee strong enough to raise the dead.
His core has settled at this point, further blending his two halves, so he's always got teeth just a bit too sharp, ears a bit too pointed, hair wild (he's absolutely blaming that on the ecto, not his habits), skin a bit too pale/green, and he tends to exude a chill in the air, like a new frost. His quirks make some people suspicious, but it's Gotham, they've seen weirder, and his coffee is amazing so they don't think about it too much.
That is, until Danny is running some errands for the store, maybe doing a catering delivery late one evening, and the Joker appears, taking the crowd hostage, grabbing Tim, who just happened to he on his way back to the manor from work and can't do anything in his civilian guise. Danny sees an evil clown and just decks the Joker, knocking him out like a light before realizing he's late with the delivery, not having been in town long enough to realize just who he knocked out, and books it.
Everyone is shocked, wondering who he was, and not a few minutes after he leaves, Batman swoops in from the same direction to clean up the mess. A few people recognize Danny from his store and start to speculate about how they've got a similar build (the butts match), both kinda weird/off, and isn't it strange how Batman showed up right after Danny ran off after punching the Joker?
Tim decides he wants to thank the person who saved him and maybe investigate a possible meta/person of interest who he's never seen in Gotham before. Especially one that's apparently been seen with Dr. Harleen Quinzel (Danny's therapist). Imagine his delight when he finds The Haunt that serves The Coffee that he loves and becomes a regular. The batkids hear the rumors and decide to play along and start meeting up on his roof during patrols or stopping in after patrols. Danny, oblivious to the rumors, sees a bunch of young vigilantes, some of whom are clearly liminal or have partial cores, that keep stopping by and calling him Dad, and adopts the lot of them. The kids just think he's playing along too well, but when he's genuinely caring for them, feeding them, and listening to their concerns, they get comfortable. One day they're in a particularly difficult encounter while Bruce and Alfred are out of town for an important meeting and are too injured to make it all the way back so Danny ends up finding them on the rooftop. He patches them up the best he can and worries over them. When he drops the, "You did the best you could, I'm so proud of you." They're like, oh shit, new dad. And this one isn't nearly as emotionally stunted after years of talking to Jazz, therapy, and trying his best to parent Ellie, when she's around.
Honestly this is one of the best prompts ever, just imagine a newly grown up overpowered ass Danny just adopting a bunch of vigilantes who range from 15 years old to a few years older than him (age means nothing, there's still adopted), and just patching them up and giving them advice and comfort for like,, a year or so until there's a threat that none of them can handle and just fucking absolute papa bear ghost King Danny fucking phantom shoes up and just punches it so hard while saying something along the lines of "how dare you hurt my kids"
It had started as a joke, you know, as it always does. Do cringe shit ironically until it becomes unironic, like that one period of time when Sam had ālikeā peppering all of her sentences when she mocking the A-listeds and then got stuck with it until she had to relearn synonyms of ālikeā.
It had started as joke. After he had scared the shit out of Joker (man, fuck Freakshow wanna-be), the Vigilantes of Gotham, the Bats and the Birds (excluding The Bat), would start popping up in āThe Hauntā, call him Dad, and leave with a snack or two. They would never pop in if Batman had been spotted out and about, to perpetuate the rumours.
It quieted down after a bit, with a few of them sticking around for one reason or another (Deathwish coffee and Ectoplasm creamer does wonders for two of them becoming proper regulars) and Gothamites frequented in the day to get a look at the man who punched the Joker and broke several bones and left him in Arkham shaking. Business was booming, more or less.
And then one of the Birds made a ruckus on his roof, and Danny sprinted up there. He was intimately familiar with what an injured teenager crashing onto a roof sounded like. Heād made the ruckus himself before, he knew.
Heād found Red Robin with a gunshot in his side and groaning into his Comms.
It didnāt take long after that, for more of them to start popping by for a quick patch up after getting injured that would hold during their patrols. Going back out after a quick treatment for another few hours to protect the night; no bandages that would unravel at a stray hit, or stitches that would tear out if they moved wrong.
Danny supposed being a retired Vigilante had itās perks, after all. Even if it meant that he was collecting children, Ellie would laugh her ass off if she knew this were happening.
For his hard work though, it seemed heād invited in an entire crime-fighting family of brothers and sisters to come to his cafe; and a billionaire and his butler, too. He did wonder how the Bat felt about his children calling a ācivilianā their father, though.
(B)OoOoOoOoOo
Danny looked over the counter, observing the largely built man, black hair, blue eyes and smile lines sitting at a booth; heās drinking a coffee. An older gentleman is sitting with him, sipping at tea. They havenāt done anything, just sat quietly and bore a hole into the back of Dannyās head. Though, his other customers wave at the pair frequently, maybe theyāre famous?
It was when Danny had started setting up for a Deathwish that RR pushed the doors open, the bell at the door tinkling. A smile split Dannyās face, āRed! Youāre just in time for the batch of Deathwish coming up.ā
RR was in a red hoodie this time, plain, black jeans, and was accompanied by a laptop case and eyebags to rival the best of them. He yawned, speaking with a low voice. āHoodāll be popping in for his serve inā¦ā he trailed off, as he slapped payment onto the counter. Danny shrugged, setting a newly brewed cup of Deathwish in front of him, and watching as RR grabbed the cup. A whispered āThanks, dad,ā before the teen takes a long draw of the liquid, turning to look for a booth. Then, Red sees the pair from earlier beckoning him over.
It didnāt seem like it was malicious, and RR only looked like heād been caught sneaking out by a parent. Danny let it be, grabbing another cup to head into the back to grab a dose of ectoplasm. If Hood was popping by, he may as well get the drink ready.
(B)OoOoOoOoOo
Tim groaned, āUgh, B, what are you doing here? Hey Alfred, by the way,ā He slipped into the space next to Alfred, āI get that I am technically still injured, but you donāt need to bother Danny about it.ā
āDid he call you Red?ā
āYeah?ā Tim answered, confused on where the conversation was going, āI donāt think Danny even knows who Tim Drake is, let alone Bruce Wayne, and heās got nicknames for our civilian IDs,ā
āāOurā?ā
He starts laughing nervously. Bruce knew the rumours, theyād (read: the batkids) all laughed at it around one of the family dinners. The fact that Danny, a random civilian, had a butt that matched Batmanās and also was built enough for it and had acted a bit like a cryptid and got mistaken for being Batman had them all wheezing.
When theyād starting popping in, as both their Civilian Identities and as Vigilantes, Danny seemed to only their Vigilante Names. He didnāt seem to blink an eye at Dick Grayson and Tim Drake in his cafe. (Steph had, at one point, asked him straight to his face if he knew who the CEO of Wayne Enterprises was, and Danny answered, āWhatās Wayne Enterprises?ā)
āYeah. Ours, he doesnāt even know Wayne Enterprises.ā
Bruce didnāt have anything to say to that.
(B)OoOoOoOoOo
It stayed like that for a few months. And then on day Dannyā¦ Danny noticed that there was something brewing. Ectoplasm in Gotham was at an all-time high, and- the breathe of mist escaped Dannyās mouth.
A ghost? Now? In Gotham?
Danny dropped what he was doing, ceramic shattering on the tile floor of his Cafe kitchen as he felt dread crawl up his spine. He could feel the anger, the ectoplasm altering his human body as his core sensed the panic of his Children. Heād been off for the whole day, and it was only now that heād realised it was that his Children had been out of his range.
He sprinted out of āThe Hauntā, hair turning wispy and pale, nails growing longer and sharper and his sight tinted green as the glow of ectoplasm interfered with his sight, enhancing it. It wouldnāt take him long to get to his Children.
A God descended upon the battlefield.
The contaminated, more-chemicals-than-ectoplasm creature thing roared, and he could see his Children battered but too close (TOOCLOSETODANGERTOOCLOSECLOSECLOSE) to the being.
Danny saw red.
āDONāT. TOUCH. MY. CHILDREN,ā he snarled, rings of light washing over him, more ghost than human, and his skin went translucent, his clothes swapped to a dark, regal outfit, and oh, they were in the prescence of a king.
The creature didnāt last a minute.
Taglist + misc under cut;
Woo! This took me a while to write! It aināt as cohesive as iād have liked, but itāll do (i canāt write action scenes lmao) I would love to read an actual fic of this. I donāt think i have the sanity to write it myself, though. If I start another project now, I think i would cry. If I had to though, i think, after this scene, it would be Danny revealing his past as Phantom and his Occupation as Ghost King (popping some ghost king into this was instinctual lol) and then meeting Ellie and proper introductions. I would love to add Reformed!Dan content too somehow because iām a sucker for Dan ngl. Btw Bruce is sulking and it would not be Bruce/Danny, imo.
Also! Please look through the other reblogs. Some have some amazing insights/ideas for this prompt!
Oof. The whole calamities while eating thing?? Same.
I think that's why I usually finish everything there is to be made before sitting down to eat. For example, if I cooked something, I wash everything I used, dry it, put it back into its place and only then I sit down to eat my scrambled eggs, or worse, a whole baked dish.
My mother finds it obnoxious, but I don't have the heart to tell her that this sprouted after she would send me to hang the bedsheets in the clothesline mid-meal because the washing machine had finished.
The classic "I had to deal with you doing this when you were a toddler, so why shouldn't I make you deal with me doing this now that you're older uwu" to "why does everyone in this house still act like toddlers" timeline.
My mother, who is a truly wonderful woman, used to tell us off if we were a minute or two late down to dinner, and once reacted to me telling her her dinner was ready by going to hoover the living room.
It didn't register for a second there that a hoover is a vacuum cleaner, and I didn't question for a moment that you didn't say 'hover'. If they were capable of it, I wouldn't question someone's mother would just go float menacingly over the living room furniture for no other eason than to be annoying and inconvenient.
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