OC Ask Game!--Very Vague and Very Specific Questions
🌦 How do they like to spend their rainy days?
🔥 Have they ever accidentally set something (or someone!) on fire?
🥈How would they feel about winning second place in a contest?
🚢 Have they ever been on a boat?
🪦 Is death a major part of their story?
🏳️🌈 What is their sexuality?
🏳️⚧️ What is their gender?
🧳 Have they ever traveled?
🐮 Are they lactose intolerant?
💍 What are their thoughts on marriage?
🐭 Are they afraid of mice?
🦸♂️ What superpowers do they have? (And if they don't have any what superpower would they have?)
🫄🏻What are their thoughts on getting pregnant?
🦉 Have they ever had a bad experience with an owl?
🫢 Biggest secret?
🤮 When was the last time they threw up?
🐶 Do they have a pet dog?
🧅 Have they ever eaten an onion?
🩰 Can they dance?
💈What kind of haircut do they have?
💊 Have they ever gotten a taste of their own medicine?
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The Cast of Revolutionary Witness: The Preacher (1989)
Notable Actors
Alan Rickman as "The Preacher"
Alfred Molina as "The Butcher" (Robert Sauveur)
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Today's question is sponsored by tumblr user chaos-utopia :))
QOTD: You can choose whether or not you remember the day, but if you had to live one day over and over, repeating the same tasks, what would you do?
I would choose not to remember of course, I'd go crazy otherwise
I think I'd probably just start the day with waking up to my partner, having a nice breakfast. Then going in to a short but fulfilling day of work. In the evening meet up with friends at a park or something and have fun running around.
For dinner my partner and I could go to my parents house and have dinner with them and maybe my sisters or his family could come over as well, and then go home to a cozy bed and chat and fall asleep.
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"...because she’d just been slapping a band-aid over whatever she thought the wound might be, instead of letting herself bleed so that she could see clearly what needed to heal."
-Cherished Affliction, Chapter 31.
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I'm tentatively thinking about filling short drabble prompts today.
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Who wants a teaser
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*fighting with toga*
uraraka: how old are you even?
toga: im your age
uraraka: no you are not
toga: yes i ...
uraraka: GO HOME INFANT
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I need to cry, but I can't
Get anything out of my eye or my head
Did I die?
Juliet, Cavetown
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"Oops~ It looks like the moon is gone again~" She just hid it, like the nerd she is.
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wait when does post limit start counting again
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Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".
Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"
And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".
Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.
At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.
So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!
Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!
Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!
Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.
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Pencils Down has already become one of my favorite Game Changer episodes and it hasn't even been out for 24 hours
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i had been used for my body before, i didn't mind it. i had a good trick about it - i didn't have to be there, not in my skin. i could wear the mirror, wear the puppet. you would see your perfect girl, a little monster i had concocted. she would glisten, distilled out of my own blood and venom. it meant i would be using you instead - you think you are taking from me? darling, i think this is a fucking joke, a role i am playing. you can't hurt me, i'm not present for the event. this is just a body, like a book is only words.
and then you came into my life, easy and honest. reaching for my hand in the crowded holiday market. passing me a water before i realize i'm thirsty. checking on me once, twice - the first time i said i'm okay, you knew i was lying. i keep thinking about the shape of your blue eyes and the wild of your hair the last time i saw you. how you got out of my car and when you looked back, i was looking back too. your quiet breathing in a hotel room.
you kissed me like you meant it, is the thing.
i don't know how to be a person yet, not fully. i don't know how to let you kiss me and touch bone. i tell my friends i hate this so much i want to throw up. your name slips into my head - i am no longer really ever alone. a little frazzled heartrate keeps splattering against my collarbone. my therapist asked yesterday - why are you afraid? what is the cost of vulnerability?
a terrifying thought: when i'm with you, it feels like finally coming home.
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a favour for a f-f-friend
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[ID in ALT text]
A conversation somewhere post-Justice For All, haunted by the ghost of a man who is very much alive
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