#I was talking about wanting to reach out to my friend who is a transwoman but feeling weird about it because I didn't reach out to them- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

qqueenofhades · 1 year

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I hope this isn’t weird or something that I should just deal with on my own and all that, so I apologize in advance because this is incredibly recent and I’m still hurting and trying to figure out what to do next.

One of my friends of quite a while now turned out to be a massive fuckin transphobe. Yippie. The thing is, he’s fully in support of the non-straight side of the queer community, always has been, but apparently that’s where he draws the line, and I just learned that today, and it sucks. It sucks so much that someone I really cared about turns out to be a kinda terrible person who ended up saying some incredibly hurtful and disrespectful things when it all came to light.

But the thing is, while the trans hatred is DEFINITELY there, it all seems to be stemming from a place of generational hatred and ignorance because he just can’t see how his actions and words are hurtful. It turns malicious when he’s pushed, as I learned the hard way, but I feel the root of it is simply ignorance.

We got in an argument via text, which, of course, is always the worst way to do things but it was a normal conversation that went downhill incredibly quickly and I’m like 3+ hours away so we can’t hash it out in person and I wasn’t willing to just go and call.

For your uh. Viewing displeasure. I’d send screenshots (and can, if you’d like additional context) but people who have a stake in this are very likely to see this and I don’t particularly want my name attached without anon.

I didn't say that transgender people are mistakes, and I didn't mean to suggest that. People can make the mistake into believing that they are who they are not

Yes, I don't believe a transwoman is a real woman. They are biological differences between both man and woman that can't be changed

Cue me going on a bit of a tangent about suicide rates, Trevor project, intersex people being a thing, what transitioning is like, etc etc. I was pissed, I was hurt, and I admit my first reaction was anger but I also think I did a very good job of keeping calm, explaining things, while also trying to impress upon him just how incredibly shitty saying those things is

Why are you so mad? I just wanted to open up to you. I didn't mean to sound rude or anything like that

Upon which I explained that I’ve lost friends to suicide and yet again how problematic some of his statements have been

I think we both need some time to think about this

I don't. I know exactly where I stand with this issue and who I care for and what it means to me personally. You're more than welcome to call so we can talk about it that way, if that's what you'd prefer or what would help you

It seems like things right now are a bit heated, I just want to talk about when things have calmed down

If that's what you need in order to decide whether you support trans people or not, go ahead. As I said, I know exactly what my opinion on this is, and it's on the side of the people whose beliefs don't disrespect certain people's existence

I respect and love everybody, but I'm not going to change my values or beliefs because they "disrespect" other people's values or beliefs

Which… yeah. That’s where it left off. Other shit was said, other shit went down, and I stand by everything and don’t regret it, even if this guy used to be my friend.

But as I said, I very much feel that this is coming from a place of ignorance and having been taught by religious, queerphobic parents, having very little experience to the queer world and having no understanding of our history, our pain, and the battles we’re still fighting. I believe he genuinely doesn’t see how his words are hurtful and how his actions genuinely cause issues and how his words are the things that drive trans people to suicide and hatred.

Which is what I’m reaching out for, what can I do, I don’t want to cut him off because I don’t want to abandon him to be a hateful person because I believe everyone, however horrible their beliefs, can learn and grow and change, and I want to know any sort of resources or help or advice you have, anything to try to fight that ignorance-based disrespect and make him realize that they’re not just words and that his behavior isn’t just his personal beliefs, that his beliefs are genuinely harming other people.

Thank you, and much love to you. We all need a bit more kindness and love and acceptance right now with this world we live in.

I'm sorry to hear about your friend, and it's understandable that you feel deeply upset and betrayed. At this time, however, I don't think you have any obligation to "educate" him or do more than you have already done. If this is a friendship-ending issue, well... it sucks, but it is what it is. If you want to, you can communicate that he's welcome to reach out to you again if his feelings change. Otherwise, it's not your responsibility to continue or spend extra time trying to talk him around. It's something that people either accept or they don't, and while feelings can evolve, it's usually something that will happen with time and space and on their own accord. So yeah. It's up to you whether you want to signal that you're up for further communication or not, if you want to take some time to let feelings heal, or if you don't want to continue being friends with someone who feels that way. Either way, it's not your responsibility to endlessly try to talk him around. Make a decision about what you feel comfortable with, set that boundary, and do your best. It sucks, but such is life sometimes. Alas.

#anonymous #ask #cw transphobia

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psycholojosh · 2 years

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Six Lessons from My Coming Out Experiences

I have been pretty much been gay most of my life. When I was 7 years old, I had my first instance of same-sex "attraction" at a birthday party I attended that had a paired game involving a lot of running and contact. At 12, I decided to engage my self-identity more proactively. At 13, I had my first boy crush on my cute chinito classmate in freshman year. At 14, I admitted to myself that I "wasn't straight." And by 16 onwards, I was for sure a "Kinsey six" gay. And now, I am currently a 24-year-old gay man who is fussing about academics and making a living for himself in a world full of chaos, excitement, confusion, exploration, triumphs, and tribulations.

Knowing my authentic self had a lot of ups and downs, but these experiences gave me the sense of importance this liberation I feel today. Since we're all limited by our pandemic and I'm committed to exercising my journal writing and blogging, I wanted to share six out of the many lessons I've learned as a queer person.

This is for all you queer kids out there who are searching for themselves and fighting for the liberty of their identity.

First of all, why only six?

Why not ten? Or a hundred, if I say there are a lot?

Well, I could sit here in write about the many anecdotes that evidence my gayness. In fact, I could write a coming-of-age themed book about it now. But, the number six isn't really anything tied with superstition, yet it has its relevance. As hinted earlier, 'six' in Alfred Kinsey's 1948 scale (which measures homosexual feelings and behaviors) is a score that signifies total or utmost homosexuality. And, that's as sentimental and sexy as it gets (at least for me).

Without further ado, here they are...

Lesson 1: Explore, explore, explore!

My first coming out experience was to my then-gay, now-transwoman friend, Pao, in junior year of high school. Pao and I studied in an all-boys Catholic school, so you could just imagine the internal and external conundrum for us queers - closeted or out. We were very close and I considered her (I'm using her current preferred pronouns) to be one of my closest friends because we just get along in many ways and enjoy a lot of pop music and gay anthems together. Although, she had her own clique of queer friends from our batch which she would hang around with way more than myself. Likewise, I had my own barkada - it was all good.

On the week that I finally came out to myself, the first person I wanted to share my latest self-discovery was Pao. I told her about it on a school day after our classes ended. As people were leaving, I approached her and broke the news. Without alerting the straight (we assumed) guys around us, her eyes widened and a smile was shown.

"Ahh, okay!," she said, "So anong nararamdaman mo?" "Masaya. Pero, ano na ang sunod?"

She paused briefly and put her hand on my shoulder and said, "Basta i-explore mo lang yan. Explore ka lang!" A very brief exchange followed shortly of me asking questions and her answering them the way she knows how. Then, she gave me one more smile and a tug on my shoulders, before she picked up her things and left to go home.

I didn't appreciate this piece of advice until I reached college. Granted, high school was a different story with all the institutionalized stigma. I was fortunate to have broken out of that culture and into a university that has a more progressive view on queer identities. I found more acceptance and nonjudgment to be explorative. At 16, it was hard to know where to start.

There are many gateways we can approach a deeper getting-to-know with your queer self. One is being educated. In my freshman year in college, I attended many talks about SOGIE 101. Various experts and advocates have shown me the different dimension our sexualities are integrated. At the time, I knew I was cisgender. I was sure that boys were the sex I had attractions to. And - gosh, there were many ways I maximized my exploration on this, from crushes to casual things. Some regrettable, some enjoyable to remember.

However, my gender expression was what I initially had a struggle with. I wasn't sure if how I wanted to present myself in terms of the gender spectrum. While I knew I was secure about a more "masculine" expression, I often found comfort in being "feminine" as well. It wasn't until I had my therapy and my heart-to-heart with my mentor (a gay therapist, who's in the US now) that I realized that I can be both, and that it depended on who I was with -- such as our social behaviors.

What I am currently exploring further is my sexuality. Dating has been an eye-opener to me because it wasn't something my parents discussed with us as kids or teens. I learned through experience, which I'm sure a lot of queer kids do. But, being adventurous about your sexual and romantic exploration entails accountability and responsibility. I often had to do a lot of trial-and-error to establish my personal limits and boundaries clearly. What I found helpful was to talk to my fellow gay friends back in college. Our heart-to-heart talks seemed to have paid of well.

Exploration is the number one thing us, queers, have to enjoy most of all. After all, when the world is rid of queer-phobias and stigma, you only have yourself to find or make your happiness. As the saying goes, "The world is your oyster." I better hope that you and I find our own pearls. Trust me, as a 23-year old gay man, this is the best thing you will ever do for yourself.

Lesson 2: Coming out to others is not a requirement, but it sometimes helps.

I didn't realize the sensitivity of the coming out experiences of us, queers, until my first encounter back in high school. I'd like to first mention that my coming out to Pao - and subsequently to my closest friends, was brief yet liberating. As a young teen, I immediately thought that coming out was something 100% helpful, hence every queer person should do it. (I also had the mindset that the more people who out themselves strengthens our visibility and, therefore, our pride.)

Needless to say, the mindset that young me had was misguided...

Yes, coming out has its perks; but it also has its risks.

No, coming out isn't something that everyone should do.

Why is that?

When I got my first SOGIE 101 talk (courtesy of my history professor who invited a queer rights advocate), it was the very first time that i heard the words, "Coming out is not a requirement and should be a personal decision - no one else's."

Immediately, I realized past experiences that I witnessed or experienced that deviated from this notion... and ended up regretting some of them. The coming out process is truly personal. It definitely was for me. The process of wanting liberty to be myself - to shed my true rainbow colors in front of my chosen public's eye - was something internally developed. While not purely, it is not regularly motivated by the external rewards of performing the act. Even the definition of "liberation" is subjective. Some people may find that liberty is when they do other ways of integrating their queer identity. Even so, some people may or may not find coming out as important to that integration process.

After all, do straight people come out? Nope.

Will it harm anyone if you prefer not to verbalize your gender identity? I don't think so.

But should one ask one's gender identity anyway? How do we know where our fellow birds of the same feather would be? This was a simple question with a tricky answer. Asking someone's gender identity isn't something to be avoided. In fact, most queer people find the gesture affirming because it entails your own sensitivity to queer communities. But, you often find that queer people who answer this question more comfortably have come into terms with their gender. Conversely, those who have yet to do so, may not refuse to answer you or cloak their answer in heteronormativity. Queer people can and should choose who to come out to. No one else gets to take that opportunity away from them.

What I learned as I met more queer people in my life (or even those who are questioning) is to be more nonjudgmental. To craft a safe space, not only for yourself, but for other queer people around you. And you do that by being knowledgeable (or at least sensitive to) about the process of coming out, and to be respectful of another person's self-identity and decisions. Things like, "I'm here if you want to talk about personal things," is something I've said effectively to open up the conversation. But again, only do so when you know they are ready. In this way, you avoid being the douchebag of outing someone prematurely and uncomfortably. You offer them the respect as they deserve it.

So, my dear queer reader, don't come out unless you are ready to. Until you find a more personal and uplifting reason to do so.

Lesson 3: Your sexuality is only your business - not anyone else's.

In connection to the past lesson, this third one comes with both personal experience with mistakes and delving more into questions I have answered back in college.

The concept of sexuality is actually quite vast. For one, we understand this as an identity. On another, we also construe this as a pattern of acts - not necessarily related to sex or the like. How I understood it was well enough of both - an identity and an act - mainly because I believe that the concepts of actions and identities have an interrelationship. Sometimes, how we know ourselves is how we behave; and other times, we identify ourselves by how we view or label ourselves with. And there are two key things that this idea has brought out to me.

Firstly, when sexuality is yours, it is only yours to begin with. No one else owns it. No one else can shape it, command it, control it. Only you, just you. And the beauty of this is that this makes us feel more in touch with ourselves. Having a stronger sense of self is always helpful when we are searching for authenticity. And this subjectivity is what makes us rainbow unicorns unique. Even if we share commonalities in how we see ourselves as queer people, we often find that the spectrum has a spectrum of individuality within. Too profound? Well, that's how deep it gets, really.

But let's make things a bit more simpler. There are many ways we can own our sexuality. Some of us prefer to express it in certain ways we present or express ourselves, like clothing, language, or mannerisms. No matter how hyperfeminine, androgynous, or hypermasculine we choose to behave, the most important part of them all is the way we feel within. Do you feel good with how you express yourself? Do you find comfort speaking like that? And so on.

On the other hand, some other people explore their sexuality in their attractions, relationships, and sex. This, I think, is a subject for another article, but worthy of explanation here. Another fun thing about queer culture is that we pay neither reward nor ridicule to promiscuity. Most, if not all, believe that it's part of our human nature. And regardless how much of that instinct is expressed by you, you are still considered valid and worthy of celebration. In exploring this side of yourself, you have to ask yourself how much of this side of yourself do you think matters to you. Not everyone finds it to be so, while others find it completely important - and either is perfectly okay! There is no harm in experimenting on what define your sexuality. What matters is how you make your sexuality feel like you - as long as you remain safe and secure.

Secondly, as I have been hinting for the past paragraphs, comes the idea of accountability over what we own. I'll explain more in detail later, but for now, you have to understand that we are not beings simply living just to be. We also have our own responsibilities as human beings, let alone people who belong in our social or cultural spheres.

Moreover, your sexuality is your story to tell. How you want anyone, regardless of intimacy or closeness, would like to perceive you is totally up to you. No one else gains the right to have a say on what you think, do, or say with your body and mind - especially when it has to do with your true self. And regardless if you are queer or not, this should be the standard for everybody.

If and when you come out, understand by heart that you do it for yourself, by yourself, and with yourself. And whether or not you choose to do so, your celebration of yourself must be noted.

Lesson 4: We make or choose our family. And sometimes, they come to us too.

There have been only a few stories I have heard about that had happy coming out stories to their own nuclear families. Often, especially in the traditionally Filipino family, the outcome is being outcast. And there is a vast sea of stories that share common themes of challenges, successes, emotions, and realizations. Like I said, coming out is not a requirement. But if your goal is to liberate yourself for whatever reason or from whoever you think deserves to meet you for you, I cannot guarantee that you will not face challenges, both internally and externally.

In my personal experience, coming out to my family was calculated. I first came out to my brother in my family. I remember doing so over one of my depressive episodes. I wrote down on a piece of paper, "I'm gay," and showed it to him in tears during one of our arguments. While my brother was not necessarily affectionate, I appreciated his acceptance. My female cousin - younger than me - was the second to find out. It was smoother, and didn't take more than five minutes. And to no surprise, she celebrated it. But my mother and father had two different occasions but similar reactions.

"Ang sakit magka-anak na bakla. You need to be successful as Boy Abunda to be a gay person." (in tears)

"Oo, alam ko na! A teacher told me and a classmate [of yours] confirmed it!" (in an angry tone)

There's a whole lot of quotes I could relay, but I choose to focus on these two who came from either of them. You could probably guess which one is which. But two recurring themes here is how much we feel invalidated and that we have conditions set upon us. Hearing these words from them hurt like hell. I'm often a hard rock in emotionally laden situations, but not everyone can be like that. Being made small, unimportant, or even unworthy to be asked about yourself from the people who you once trusted for care creates a dent in our sense of self and individuality. And depending on a lot of things, some of us recover faster than others.

It has been better ever since I came out to my parents. I found that a lot of the times, they're just worried about how life or society would treat us for who we are. In my own way, I try to probe and investigate where they are with tolerance or, even better, acceptance. And I do my best to educate them on things they are still confused or ignorant of in the most polite way. I still love my parents - albeit with complexities. But, I'm fortunate to see (at least one of) them try.

But, if you find yourself not relating to this story, I understand! Not everyone has been fortunate with their own families. Which is why... the power of self-authenticity is we get to gravitate towards the people who we can call our own. A chosen family is better than none at all.

Finding your own chosen family shouldn't be too hard these days, but it will take a little bit of putting yourself out there. I didn't find my own queer niche until I came into college. Granted, the university I attended is a very progressive one, finding your queer friends isn't all too hard if you learn how to express yourself comfortably and - more importantly - ground yourself on self-love and self-appreciation. I met my first group of queer friends when I joined my college org and started doing projects. While we were in it for the work and the advocacy of the org, we all wanted to make friends and have a gay (pun intended) time.

For me, it didn't come out as ideal at the beginning. When I was still discovering my sexuality, I struggled with a lot of insecurities about my image, behavior, and self-worth that I forgot to enjoy things as they are, to enjoy relationships as they bloom. In turn, it made me feel ironically disconnected with the queer people in my community and left me feeling alone to some extent. But later on, I realized that people are there to love me and celebrate me - so why not I do so myself? Later on, I grew closer to my gay friends (and queer-allied friends). I found that they'll always be there for me flaws and all. Even now, while we're on our separate career paths, we still choose to seek each other out through thick or thin - especially in these trying times.

While a lot of us find ourselves to be the lone wolf surviving in the woods - you can't deny that it's a tough life to live. You have to find that emotional support and connection that can cultivate your queerness and help you become a better person in every way possible. And you can do that, with the people around you. Shake away any worries, feel comfortable in your own skin, and go meet the world around you!

Lesson 5: Embrace vulnerability, accountability, and authenticity.

One of my passions as a psychologist-in-training is to help queer people with their queer struggles. Part of the training is for us, trainee therapists, to understand the value of three things: experiencing vulnerability, upholding accountability, and being with authenticity. These three aspects cut across many emotional challenges that people face, regardless of gender identity. And as trainees, we usually have to deal with this ourselves before we even begin teaching this to our clients.

So far, the journey I've had in this was very rocky -- as it should. Many a time, I've been faced with different kinds of challenges as a queer person that affected my personal understanding, my relationships, and even my mental health. The thing that I had the most difficulty grasping is marrying vulnerability and accountability to 'walk' myself towards an authentic life I deem worth living. A lot of the time, I used to redirect blame for my negative emotions in response to challenges to anything - or even anyone - but myself. For example, I used to blame my upbringing in a broken family for the way I learned how to hide my gay-ness from the people closest to me, especially friends. But, I later realized that, just like embracing my choice to come out as gay to my family and friends, I must embrace the emotional experiences that arise from vulnerable moments. In this way, I learn how to understand myself a bit more especially when faced with challenges tied to my identity. Stigma from other people, self-stigma, self-loathing, insecurities, and envy of others who have a "better" queer life than mine. When I acknowledge how I feel as it is, I learn how to respond to the experience with a bit more compassion and effectiveness. Granted, there are matters in which the blame may be redirected elsewhere validly. Yet, we cannot always shake the feeling of taking ownership of our experiences -- regardless of how much agency we have in them. In fact, it might not be the healthiest thing to do.

Insofar as my training goes, I noticed that a lot of the queer clients I've taken under my wing (mostly gay young men) have expressed a similar notion: struggles that root themselves with the fear of embracing their vulnerable selves with accountability. When my queer clients tell me that they refuse to acknowledge the roles of their emotions, their choices, and even their self-concept, I often witness how much suffering they experience. Perhaps this suffering may be stemming from the impasse on a journey towards being "themselves." While I cannot claim any expertise in this matter just yet, I did observe how helping people realize that owning up to vulnerable experiences makes them less afraid to deal with the suffering that comes along with coming out, warranted or not. There is strength in being vulnerable just as there is liberation in accountability. What matters most, I believe, in helping people realize this is that they matter and their experiences -- from the most positive to the most negative -- are key to understanding the essence of living a fulfilling, authentic, queer life.

This process will be one of the most painful parts of the journey. But trust me... it will be the most necessary step into a life that you and I want for our queer selves. Just remember that you are not alone in this.

Lesson 6: Love yourself now more than ever.

I cannot stress this enough. While cliché is an appropriate term to use in this lesson, you can never deny the power of showing yourself the love you deserve from yourself. And I know what you're thinking, "How does one even learn how to do that anyway?" Good question.

There is no single answer to this because all of us are different. We've had our own journeys to get to where we are. What I think underlies a lot, if not all, of these experiences, is the amount of value we put on ourselves. However you wish to do that depends on you. But there are a couple questions you can ask yourself as you decide how you want to practice self-love:

Do I learn something new or enrich something I already knew about myself?

Does this act of self-love add to my value or keep my dignity intact?

Do I do this out of caring for myself as if I were selfless acting this onto others?

Do I feel liberated from my worries and self-doubts, even just by a little?

The more we say yes to each question shows how much our choice of acting in self-love reflects an authentic and liberating one.

Needless to say, a genuine and healthy kind of self-love is a "cure" to many problems we experience inward, We not only prevent ourselves from spiralling down on ourselves, but we also protect and build strength against the adversity of a cold, cruel world. We learn how to navigate through suffering as if it were an experience that's part of the ebb and flow.

Like the fifth lesson, I realized the importance of understanding your own self-worth. Queer people, I believe, are a universal gift. We make magic through our talents and beliefs. And we show compassion through our drive. In one conversation I had with my mentor sometime in 2019, one of the most painfully beautiful things about being queer is that there are things that only we know. Our unique experiences become a beacon for others. Let's keep practicing that through showing ourselves the right kind of love. Who knows, this may also lead you to finding the right love for yourself?

Wrapping it up...

Coming out is a journey. It's not like a light switch that turns off or on and is no in-between (unless you count the dim-lights setting). On this road ahead, we get to have encounters with different people who want to learn about who we are. It's just a matter of making space for them to walk beside us - especially those who choose to do so.

Happy Pride!

#lgbtq #coming out #personal growth #RPmNotes #queer stories #lgbtq stories #lgbtq pride #pride 2022

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gigi-sinclair · 5 years

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5000th Post Ficstravaganza: Part 5/5

And my actual 5000th post!

Part 1 is here (The Terror, Joplittle, Pancake Day)

Part 2 is here (The Terror, Joplittle, Edward’s spectacles)

Part 3 is here (Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, bathing)

Part 4 is here (The Terror, pre-Joplittle, a dark and stormy night)

For @buttymcbuttface, who requested Edward being very ticklish, and Thomas taking advantage of it. Full disclosure, I actually really hate being tickled myself, so this may not have the graphic tickle scenes you were hoping for, but there is some light bondage!

Forever and Not Nearly Long Enough, rated M. A followup to my fic Breakaway, aka the football/agent modern AU I stole borrowed from lafiametta. Mentions of Goodsir/Silna and Crozier/Fitzjames.

Tom doesn't realize just how drunk he is until he attempts to put his key into the front door, and the lock eludes him.

"Need a hand?" Ed presses up behind him, his arms winding around Tom's waist and his tongue tracing the edge of Tom's ear. He moves down to kiss along Tom's jaw, then to suck at his neck. None of this does anything for Tom's coordination. He tries to bat Ed away, but Ed doesn’t move.

There are only two other flats on this floor, and the corridor is currently empty. Still, Tom has no desire to be caught making out against the door like a couple of horny teenagers.

Ed's public coming out has gone better than Tom honestly thought it would. A couple of his bus shelter advertisements have been defaced with unimaginative slurs. At first, there was a little awkwardness in the club changing room, which Tom has stopped visiting, but Ed hasn't lost any endorsements. In fact, he's gained a couple. More important are the emails and Instagram messages Ed has received from dozens of LGBTQA kids who, up until now, had believed their sexuality automatically precluded them from any future as a professional athlete. Ed doesn't say much about it, but Tom knows how much those notes mean to him.

The key finally hits home, and Tom and Ed stumble into the darkened flat. The moment they cross the threshold, Ed kicks the door shut and is upon Tom once more, pushing him against the wall and sliding his tongue eagerly into Tom's mouth.

"If I'd known weddings did this to you," Tom gasps, when Ed grinds against him, "I'd have taken to you to one a long time ago."

Harry and Silna's wedding was beautiful, like most weddings are. The bride was radiant; Goodsir spent the entire time looking like he couldn't believe it was actually happening. Tom had a great time, dancing with Ed and talking to the other guests, including Francis Crozier's new, close friend, Britannia Fitzjames. On the heels of Ed's coming out, the popular Instagram model made an announcement of her own, revealing her identity as a transwoman. Tom admires her, but not as much as Francis does. When Tom and Ed left, the two of them were sitting in a cosy corner, holding hands with hearts in their eyes.

"Not weddings," Ed murmurs. "Just you." He backs off a little and removes his jacket, tossing it carelessly onto the floor behind him.

Tom frowns. "Don't leave it there."

"What?"

"Your jacket. It'll get creased as hell if you leave it on the floor.”

An indecipherable look appears in Ed's eyes, even as the corner of his mouth lifts in a smile. "What will you to do me?"

"Excuse me?”

"What will you do? If I leave the jacket there."

Tom isn't sure what this is about, beyond the fact Ed is clearly just as drunk, if not drunker, than Tom. It's rare for him to be playful. Tom finds himself wanting to take advantage of it.

"Oh," Tom says, "I know just what you deserve."

He reaches out and yanks Ed's shirttails from his trousers. Before Ed can react, Tom slips his hands beneath and slides his hands up Ed’s bare sides.

"Fuck, Tom!" Instinctively, Ed tries to escape. Tom doesn't let him. "You bastard," Ed laughs.

The discovery that Ed is extremely ticklish was made quite by accident. In bed one day, Tom noticed him squirming and giggling--actually giggling--when Tom brushed his sides. Further experimentation revealed Ed had a similar reaction to Tom touching under his arms, the back of his knees, the soles of his feet. Being a kind and benevolent man, Tom has never abused this knowledge. Until now.

Still laughing, Ed twists away from Tom's tickling fingers and flees. Tom puts the jacket on a hanger, because, all jokes aside, it is Louis Vuitton, and follows.

He reaches the bedroom just a dozen paces behind Ed, but it's long enough for Ed to position himself to attack. He jumps out as Tom steps through the doorway, tackling him onto the bed. The mattress dips beneath their sudden, combined weight. "You think you're clever?" Ed asks, grinning.

"Yes," Tom replies, honestly. Ed sits up, but doesn't remove himself from Tom's body. Pinned beneath him, Tom watches as Ed loosens, then removes, his own striped club tie.

"You know how I feel about being tickled."

Tom remains defiant. "I don't regret it."

"Not yet, maybe." Ed loops the tie around Tom's right wrist and ties it to the headboard with the loosest knot imaginable. If he so wished, Tom could easily break free. He finds himself not wanting to. More than that, he finds himself growing warmer, his breath coming faster as Ed pulls off Tom's tie and uses it to restrain his left hand. "There." Ed surveys his handiwork, a flush on his cheeks Tom is certain must be matched on his own. "Seems like I'm the one in charge now."

Tom swallows around the lump which has suddenly appeared in his throat. "True."

"Seems like I can do anything I want."

"Seems like it."

Ed falters. For a moment, Tom thinks Ed will revert to his usual self, but he doesn't. Instead, without saying a word, he steps off the bed. Remaining in Tom's line of sight, he removes the rest of his clothes: shirt, shoes, trousers, underpants and socks, leaving them piled on the floor in a way Tom is sure is deliberate. Once he is naked, he straddles Tom once more, giving him an excellent view of most of Ed’s many tattoos, including Tom’s favourite: Tom’s own name, inscribed right over Ed’s heart.

"What if I want to tease you? Get you all revved up and leave you hanging?" Ed asks, with a little wriggle.

“You wouldn’t do that.” Would he?

Another gleam comes to Ed’s eye. “What if I want to ride you?”

They've never done that before. Intellectually, Tom knows, for Ed's sake, this isn't something they should be undertaking for the first time while they're drunk and, at least in Tom’s case, growing increasingly desperate, but Tom's intellectualism disappears the moment Ed unzips his trousers and pulls out Tom’s already-eager cock.

"Don't come on my clothes," Tom says.

"Yes, sir," Ed replies. Tom's cock jerks again. "Any other requests?"

"Enjoy yourself."

Ed laughs and slides down the bed to take Tom into his mouth.

It's amazing, of course. Ed undertakes everything he does with single-minded focus and determination. After several months of living with him, and several more of working with him, Tom has learned he personally does not always appreciate this unswerving dedication of Ed's, particularly when it would be useful for him to multitask a little. In bed, however, Tom has no complaints. Rather the reverse. The look of pure concentration on Ed’s face as he lowers himself, slick and tight, onto Tom’s cock is a thing of such beauty, Tom wishes he had the artistic skills to capture it. Then again, Tom is happy with this view being for him and him alone.

Afterwards, Ed cares for Tom gently, although that feels more like something Tom should be doing for Ed. He unties his wrists and undresses him the rest of the way. True to his word, there is not a spot of semen on Tom's bespoke Jermyn Street suit.

Ed even goes so far as to hang up Tom's clothes, as well as his own, before returning to bed. Tom knows he should ask after him, make sure he's not too sore or, worse yet, embarrassed by what they just did, but he’s so tired, he can't bring himself to form words. In the morning, he promises himself.

Ed rests his head on Tom's shoulder. "Three months."

"Hmm?"

"It'll be our turn to walk down the aisle in three months."

"Ten weeks.” Tom has an intricate system of colour-coded folders dedicated to every aspect of planning their wedding. Tom opens his eyes. "Are you looking forward to it?"

"Are you joking? I can’t wait. I’d marry you tomorrow, if I didn’t know how much work you’ve put in for this big do." The complete certainty in Ed's voice brings a smile to Tom's face. Not that he ever doubted it, but Ed isn't always the most expressive of people. It's nice to hear it out loud, once in a while. "Even," Ed adds, "if you are a bastard."

“Your bastard,” Tom corrects. “Always.”

Ed reaches up for a kiss, then cuddles in close. Tom falls asleep happy. with his face in Ed’s hair and his arm, steady, secure and not at all prone to tickling, about Ed’s middle.

#the terror #joplittle #football au #5000th post ficstravaganza

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that-bi-bitch-writes · 4 years

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Dreams of Indigo OCs

BIG THANK YOU TO: @inhumanshadows and @crusty-kinnie for helping me draft these characters, i love them even though I forget their names sometimes

BIGGEST EVER THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN to @lco190 for the encouragement and template AND THE PICTURES GUYS!!! HE MADE THEM FOR ME and I am over the moon

Name: (first, last)

Akihiro- from japanese meaning

Fukuhara- from japanese meaning “blessed plain”

Meaning bright scholar in Japanese

Hero/Villain Name: N/A

Gender: Male

Age: currently 13

Height: currently 5’6” will grow to 5’9”

Weight: 145lbs/66kg

Hair Colour/Style: black shoulder length hair

Eye Color: brown, green if transformed

Occupation: middle school student

Distinguishing Features: freckles that are drawn on but totally look good for some reason

Quirk: dragon

Type: physical quirk

Description: He has scales on both of his arms and across his chest and a little on his back. Not completely covered in scales but the parts that are are most resistant to physical attacks, especially fire. He can breath fire and paralyze an opponent who looks into his green eyes for 1 minute.

Drawbacks: fire breathing makes his throat raw and entire body heat up, so he can suffer from dehydration as well as overheating. The paralyzing power makes his body a little sore but he is used to it.

Personality: nerdy athlete who has foot in mouth disease. Akihiro is the person that in debates and conversations is very articulate and eloquent.

But if you put them in like an icebreaker type situation they’re like “what is interesting about me??” Internally. He can be a dumbass.

A really good friend (mom friend anxiety override) but talks out of his ass when he gets nervous and they will apologize if they've hurt you but most of the time everyone's cool with it

To avoid that he often uses the phrase “you know what I mean” and “does that make sense??” To make sure he hasn't misspoken. If he has correct him

Hobbies: martial arts and skydiving

Favourite Food: omurice with a lot of mayonnaise

Bonus Facts: he cannot handle spicy food dispute being a dragon

Stats:

Power - 3.5/5

Speed - 3/5

Technique - 3/5

Intelligence - 3/5

Cooperativeness 2.5/5

Slight room for improvement

Name: (first then last)

Fumiko - from Japanese meaning “child of treasured beauty”

Akamane - from Japanese meaning “red peak”

Hero/Villain Name: N/A

Gender: female (transwoman)

Age: 14

Height: 5’7”

Weight: 160lbs/72.5

Hair Colour/Style: long bob brown hair

Eye Color: brown

Occupation: middles school student

Distinguishing Features: very masculine looking dispute being a transwoman.

Quirk: item summoning

Description: can literally summon items at will if they are stored in one of her special scrolls. To access the items she has to memorize specific sigils and symbols correspond to which itens. She must store the items in her scrolls beforehand (meaning she doesn’t write a symbol and items materialize, she locks them in her scrolls first)

Drawbacks: the sigils must be drawn with her blood so she may experience blood loss and dizziness. The scrolls themselves can be destroyed if they take too much damage. If she overuses her quirk she will pass out and be left with a headache. Quirk overuse is usually triggered by a loss of too much blood.

Personality: uselessly gay cottagecore lesbian. She is the peacekeeper of the friend group but not in a timid way. She is confident, trustworthy and horrible at math.

Hobbies: she enjoys learning about witchcraft and trying to make connections between quirk evolution and the divine

Favourite Food: hamburger

Bonus Facts: her and the reader were both slight outcasts first year of middle school because they “weren’t like the other boys”. She is more adventurous and doesn’t have a tragic backstory so she reached out to Y/N first. discovers her sexuality simultaneously with the reader. They both have supportive parents so her family has plans for her to start hrt before she graduates middle school.

Stats

Power - 3/5

Speed - 3/5

Technique - 2/5

Intelligence - 4/5

Cooperativeness: 4/5

Room for improvement

Name: (first, last)

Akira- from japanese meaning brightness and clarity

Nakamura- from japanese variously written, usually with characters meaning ‘village in the middle

Hero/Villain Name: N/A

Gender: Non-Binary (AMAB)

Age: 14

Height: 5’7”

Weight: 165

Hair Color/Style: Curly Black hair with white highlights

Eye Color: brown

Occupation: middle school student

Distinguishing Features: dark skin and non japanese features that make them look foreign but they are black and asian and both of their parents were born in japan

Quirk: Commandment

Type: voice based

Description: the user can make anyone do what they want in a set time. they have to start or end the sentence with the phrase my word is law

Drawbacks: headaches and throat pain. If they overuse their quirk they will be left with severe migraines as well as pain in their throat that could disable them for the rest of the day or the battle. They have to get the phrase “my word is law” out or any commands they made will not work (so if they can be interrupted and their quirk will be disabled)

Personality: cynical but sweet on their friends. Likes a yami kawaii/ scene kid sense of fashion and dabbles in gothic attire. Has a tumblr account (traumacore content) varied amount of music taste. Americanized internet personality called emmy.

Hobbies: shopping, dancing, blogging

Favorite Food: soba

Bonus Facts: Will bond with Y/n further over their similar quirks. Feminine but really strong and muscled so no one messes with them or their friends and if someone does, well….

Stats:

Power - 3.5/5

Speed - 2/5

Technique -4/5

Intelligence - 4/5

Cooperativeness:2/5 (with y/n 4/5)

room for improvement

#ocs #mine #dreams of indigo #thank you guys for the help #im 💖💖💖💖#thank you❤️

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fulcrum-agent · 5 years

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Dysphoria

I’m going to talk about some things that I need to get out there a bit more than I generally do. So today, I’m going to discuss my gender identity, gender dysphoria, and what it’s doing to me emotionally and mentally. Before I end up falling into a repeat of March.

People on both sides of the fence in regards to gender and sexuality (meaning both the LGBTQ+ community and the “straights”/”cis” world) aren’t going to like everything I’m about to say here. But the past few days and weeks, I’ve been feeling the same kind of horrible pressure I had largely freed myself from a year ago, some of it is almost as oppressive as when I was a teenager.

It’s not just going to be anecdotal information, not just “feels” - I involve science in everything.

Don’t get me wrong, I understand why the LGBTQ+ community can get upset about the use of science with gender identity and sexuality. A lot of really bad science has been done in an attempt at erasure and vilification. But that shouldn’t lead to discounting the good science that is starting to make its way into the fore.

All that out of the way, let’s get started.

Taking a trip in the Way Back Machine, when I was in utero, mum wasn’t keen on getting ultrasounds. It wasn’t something that was well covered by her insurance, and she had issues with the gel they use for them. So the doctors were more heavily relying on other methods to determine gender, and the few ultrasounds mum could afford weren’t very conclusive due to positioning. This was back in the late 70s/early 80s, and the tech wasn’t as good as it is now.

The vast majority of markers pointed towards the concept that I was a baby boy. The pregnancy and much of the social stuff surrounding it were treated like I was going to be a boy. There was a stupid amount of pastel blue involved.

As it turned out, not only were their predicted due dates off dramatically (an entirely separate story there), but physically, I was a female baby; it was so expected that I’d be male, they had no female names handy, so they used the name of the type of piano they bought for me (spoilers: I’ve always hated my birth name because of this).

Essentially, I’ve had gender issues since birth. One of my doctors expects that I’ve had PCOS nearly my entire life, possibly even before puberty, since my testosterone levels even in utero were higher than they should be.

While I personally had almost 0 concepts of gender and the societal bullshit around till around puberty, it still affected me all the damn time.

I was almost immediately labelled a tomboy, because I was physically active - climbing trees, playing sports, wanting to do martial arts, and I also liked things like GI Joe and He-man while having an obsession with dinosaurs and science. However, people who viewed me as a tomboy would get confused by the fact that I also liked dance, music, My Little Pony (this was before bronies), and dolls like Jem and Barbie.

Back at the dawn of the 80s, things were rather black and white when it came to gender norms.

Despite the people around me having issues with my “gender weirdness”, I was perfectly fine till around 11, when puberty started.

Much to my distress, my body became extremely feminine. Before I was even 12, I was more than an A cup, and I started getting curvy hips and rear. For some reason, I really just did not like the way my body was starting to look, yet I had tonnes of people telling me how “lucky” I was, and how I should dress to compliment my form.

I also was absofuckinglutely not okay with menstruation. It was beyond the typical uneasiness about this new thing, about learning how to manage it - there was visceral hate I didn’t understand. It didn’t help that having my period made me ill, something that only got worse and worse as I got older. Between the dysphoria related anxiety/depression and the actual physical problems, I wanted nothing to do with menstruation and decided I wanted a hysterectomy even before I had my first procreation systems problems. I also realised before I was out of high school that I really wanted a breast reduction; increasing back and shoulder problems were what I thought the root of it was, but I realise now I actually just wanted a more androgynous body, even back then.

Throughout part of junior high, and all of high school, my friends who were female were always being pushy about making me dress like a girl, and to weaponise the body I was “so lucky to have”. At the start of junior high, I dressed like a goth skater boy - in part because I was slowly building a gothic wardrobe, and in part cus men's clothes were just super comfortable. And cheaper - most of the stuff I was buying with saved lunch money, so buying boy’s/men’s clothes was also something of a financial strategy.

Despite often feeling awkward about my body, by the time high school landed, I had just given in to the pressure. I dressed like a little goth princess, I wore push-up bras (even though I was already a D cup at that point), most everything I wore either accentuated my breasts by being tight or super low cut. On one level, fashion was always fun for me, I nearly became a fashion designer before realising how horrid that industry is, so the putting together outfits and such was fun - it was when I was actually wearing them that I could feel super awkward.

Once I moved from Salt Lake to San Diego, I was able to ditch a lot of that. No one knew who I was, I didn’t know anyone else, and SoCal was a lot more chill about things than Utah could ever hope to be. I still would sometimes dress the goth princess, but my default style swerved back towards skater/raver in cuts. I wore rave pants and tank tops with men’s graphic button downs.

While I was in San Diego, I met a transman and transwoman who were both chill with explaining gender transitions to me. I suspected someone I knew in SLC was along those lines (I was wrong, they were intersexed, and parents made terrible decisions for them). While I was aware that I didn’t want to transition entirely to being male, I knew there was something along those lines that I needed. Sadly, I didn’t meet any non-binary people, and no one really ever brought up the concept to me while I was in SoCal.

About ten years ago, after I had gotten sick and had to move back in with my mum, on the Eastern Seaboard, I met an incredibly knowledgeable transwoman who pointed out to me that androgyny isn’t just an art style but also was gender. She was the first to explain to me what being non-binary was the full spectrum of non-binary - from being gender fluid to androgyne to flat non-binary.

For once in my life, I felt normal as far as gender was concerned. I wasn’t some weird tomboy, I didn’t have to conform to what I’d been told to while growing up, I wasn’t weird for having certain previously odd dreams. It all made sense.

At this point, I’d already done a lot of research on what all transgender, the emerging science behind it, the process of transitioning, chest binding. But at that point, I did a lot more research into non-binary aspects of gender; there’s not nearly as much as there is on MtF/FtM transgenders, but there was a fair bit.

Since I was having problems with depoprovera actually helping with the PCOS and nixing menstruation, I decided that I wanted to do low dose HRT. It took a lot to get to a facility to do so, but I managed to start that in 2015. I was also hoping that if I was right about my hunch, that a number of other medical issues I have could be affected for the better. There’s a lot of emerging science pointing to the fact that transfolk have chemical imbalances - their chemical make up doesn’t really match that of their birth gender; about how HRT helps move their different hormonal chemicals to the range their body actually needs; how many times transfolk feel better physically once their HRT reaches stable levels, and how often times being on HRT reduces or eliminates different chronic medical issues.

Locally, there was no facility that could manage HRT. Even with the hard science in my hand, local doctors couldn’t wrap their heads around it, so I couldn’t even “cheat” and have a mainstream endocrinologist manage it for me. Most didn’t even want to look at the science. I still have to go to Philadelphia for HRT, and half the science I take with me is still relatively new to the Mazzoni Centre.

Getting HRT was the lesser struggle. Although I had started addressing the need for a breast reduction clear back in 2012, insurance coverage in general on reductions is trash. A certain amount of mass has to be removed for them to cover it, which often times cannot be accurately gauged before the surgery; much of the time, a person needing a reduction would go under, get mass removed, only for it to be too little for insurance coverage, leaving them with a $7,000 bill.

The only surefire way to have them cover it entirely for almost the entire decade I was working on this was a full mastectomy, whether or not it was related to cancer. For a while, I was very on the fence about a full mastectomy, because I didn’t want to transition to being male - I wanted a body that was just a hell of a lot more boyish than mine’s been since puberty.

Eventually, I came to be at peace with the idea of this, thanks to people like the fabulous Elliott Alexzander, who promote non-binary fashion and are also male-bodied. Seeing someone who had absolutely no breasts rock women’s fashion helped immensely.

I did finally luck out, however. By the time I was okay with the concept of having to have a full mastectomy to get insurance to cover the surgery, a WPATH certified surgeon had moved into the area. With his help, I was able to get what he termed a hybrid top surgery, 100% covered by my insurance, due to gender dysphoria.

While recovery was rough, as it became painfully apparent that the boyfriend who lived with me at the time had massive issues with all of it, despite having been warned back in 2013 that I was going to be doing all of this. He’d always been lowkey abusive, often in ways that evaded mum seeing him be so, but that escalated rapidly after the surgery, to the point where even mum could see it; I had an HRT check up not long after the surgery, and the nurse who roomed me asked if I was okay, or if I needed help - the abuse had become that apparent, and constant. (Yes, the relationship was terminated, though it took 3 or 4 more months for him to find a place and move out.)

For most of the time since the top surgery, I’ve not had my dysphoria trigger all that much; at most, I have a lowkey fear of some crazy, conservative, Christian redneck here is going to decide they don’t like how I look, and try beating me up - or worse. This has already happened once since the surgery: some loon was sitting on his porch at like 2 AM, and I was out on a walk; I had my headphones in, and music on, so I couldn’t hear everything he said, but caught something about how I was a vile dyke, and he started coming down off his porch at me - I ended up just looking at him as if he were less than a gnat, while continuing to walk, and he backed off. The power of looking like you don’t give any fucks.

Recently, I’ve been having more and more dysphoria, due to people just not getting that I as a person am non-binary. I have pronoun preferences. Ignoring them isn’t okay. I actually have to have my characters all have small breasts still because I get the same sense of dysphoria I’ve had for my entire life when they’re much past an A cup. I’m not going to wear a dress when I don’t want to, and I’m not going to wear an a-shirt/muscle shirt when I don’t want to. I’m not going to forgo mixing and matching men and women’s clothes for someone else’s comfort.

Generally, I’m not one to get aggressive about this stuff, because I don’t believe that aggression helps the LGBTQ+ community (or any community) considering its aggression that creates the situations we find ourselves in right now. I’m more about educating someone politely, giving them time to adjust, to remember that for me as a person, it’s They (or Xe) and not She. Let those who know me offline adjust to the fact that no, you can’t use my birth name, you have to use the name that I go by (even though that’s about as variable as David Bowie during his early musical career). You can prefer people with more curves, but you can’t tell me that I can’t be okay when you want me to be curvier, in a game or out.

Initial microaggressions are fine. Persistent ones after the fact aren’t.

If I ask you to stop doing something because it’s causing dysphoria, you don’t get to shrug it off, and just continue to do it. You don’t get to ignore the fact that what you’re doing is harmful to me, just because opening your eyes to who I actually am is inconvenient to your current world order. You don’t get to invalidate me as a person because you think your religious doctrine is against who and what I am (spoilers: nearly every religion on the planet preaches love as its highest law - and doing any of this shit to anyone violates that tenant of your faith).

You don’t have to entirely understand the why of all this. You don’t have to be savvy on all the different points on the gender spectrum. You don’t have to know the science behind it.

What you have to understand is that your actions are harmful and that if you want to be a better person, you have to stop those harmful actions. Not just because they’re harmful to me, not just because you care about me, but to just be a better person overall - to avoid doing this to anyone and everyone.

If that’s asking too much, well:

EDIT: It occurs to me that I should probably mention that it doesn’t bother me when people refer to my characters by their gendered pronouns. Ashe, Claire, Fia, and Vaylin can be referenced by she/her while Rel, Saber, and Kym’a can be referenced as he/him. Vieno will probably lean more towards they/them. The only one it’s a hard must be they/them with is Dwynd, because when I made her, it was an outlet for being completely out of the non-binary closet when I couldn’t yet be RL.

#A Moonlit Original #ashe.txt #personal #admin #long post #thanks for coming to my TEDtalk #gender #gender dysphoria #transgender #non-binary #non-xiv #non-ffxiv #non-final fantasy #non-ff

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thetravelerscompanion · 6 years

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How to be a Patient (From a Patient’s Perspective)

I have been a patient and in and out of the hospital for various reasons over the past 30 years. This is just a few tips that have helped me make it bearable.

1: Be nice to your goddamn nurses.

Nurses have to put in I.V.s, insert and remove catheters, dress and undress you sometimes, bathe you sometimes, give you medicine that either burns going in or makes you throw up sometimes. It's just as uncomfortable for them as it is for you, and trust me, they don’t get paid enough to deal with that AND you being an asshole about it. Being in pain is no reason to be a dick to the person who’s actively trying to help you, and if you're bitchy or spiteful, it's a sure-fire way to make sure they don't want to go anywhere near you. Do what you can to make their jobs easier, and it'll be better for the both of you.

Also, don’t hang on the call button. If you can’t reach the remote or your pillow is too hard, you’re not a priority. Don't be a child about it. The call button is for immediate needs and emergencies. Generally, a nurse will check on you every hour or even less. Nurses aren't your servants. If it’s not urgent, it can wait.

(This also goes for EMTs and other medical transporters.)

2: On the other hand, if you feel you’re not getting optimal care, you are free to request a different nurse.

You can sometimes come across a caregiver that ignores you, is rude to you, or otherwise makes your discomfort worse. You can ask for a new caregiver, and you can do it without being loud, angry, or by shit-talking that person. Be an adult.

3: Things take time. For fuck’s sake, be patient.

Tests take time, information collection and input takes time, checking your medical history takes time. Being a patient is literally a waiting game; it’s probably why we’re called patients. Sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up, and wait like everyone else.

4: Follow the pre-test or pre-surgical instructions.

If the instructions say don't wear metal, don't wear metal. If they say take a shower before arriving, take a shower. If they say do not eat before the procedure, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, do not eat. They're not telling you these things to spite you; it's literally for your own good.

For my trans and non-binary friends, if any form says to specify male or female, please check the gender of which you were born. Unfortunately, the language hasn’t changed on the forms to afab or amab to reflect your existence yet, but they need to know these things for the purpose of treating you properly. A transman is not going to get prostate cancer and therefore doesn’t need a prostate exam during a physical, and a pre-bottom transwoman is going to get an uncomfortable public boner if she is administered certain vasodilators, like Revatio, which is used to treat hypertension in women. This is just an unavoidable medical fact.

If you would like, you may put (trans) next to your selection or tell the attending nurse at the start of your visit, so that your provider knows without having to ask or without you having to out yourself out loud to a bunch of strangers.

5: The staff don’t mind when you ask questions; in fact, they encourage it.

Being your own advocate is important. As long as you are respectful, most staff is more than happy to accommodate you. If you're being given a medicine you're not familiar with, ask what it is and what the side-effects are. If they don't know, they're usually willing to look it up for you. If you're not comfortable with the answer, you can ask for a substitute or refuse altogether. You are always free to refuse any medical assistance at any time. Just be polite.

6: If you’re admitted to a room, you can take the extemporaneous items, like soap and toothpaste, with you when you leave. Because you are going to be charged for them.

The last time I left the hospital, the nurse attending me literally threw everything except the towels and bed linens into a personal item bag to take home with me, including the basins and an unopened box of tissues. When I asked, she told me I was being charged for all of the stuff in my room, and because it could have been contaminated by me at any point during my stay, it would all be thrown away and replaced once I left. By staying in the hospital room, I had ostensibly bought all the accessories in it. Your free to leave it or take it as you like, but it will be tossed as soon as you leave. There’s a reason the toothpaste and soap is “complementary,” because it’s there for your use. If you don’t use it, it’s discarded.

And before you start screaming “that’s theft!” A: I’ve had conversations with hospital loss prevention officers on numerous occasions: It’s not. B: You’re literally paying for it. It’s impossible to steal something you’re paying for. However, it may be different in different states, so make sure you check the policy of any hospital in which you stay.

It’s theft if you take the things you’re not being billed for, like the towels, bed linens, medical equipment (like IV supplies, syringes, and oxygen tanks), televisions, phones, clocks, etc, which people do steal. People even steal light bulbs and wiring, for goodness sake, for which you’ll never be billed, because people are assholes. Don’t be assholes.

Hope this helps you guys. Feel free to add any of your own tips. Try to refrain from shit-slinging, though.

#hospitals #doctors #nurses #surgeries #surgery #nurse #doctor #hospital #medical #medical care

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a-very-fond-farewell · 6 years

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Bagginshield North & South au 1/4

Ok folks, I thought about how to make a North & South au (based on the BBC miniseries, not the actual book) without looking at any fic on the matter, because I didn’t want to be influenced by their (certainly brilliant) adaptations. So bear with me for the time being.

This is just a list of things that I would like to see in a N&S!au fic... but I have no energy to write that myself.

ATTN!1: I have changed many things, and it came out pretty angsty, with lots of pining and secrets that must be kept at all costs.

ATTN!2: I would have loved to explore the trans!Bilbo trope (either transwoman!Bilbo or transman!Bilbo), but I feel like I’m not the right person to give this idea the justice it deserves. I’m sure someone else could feel empowered in exploring that particular trope on their own, so it would be better for me not to rob them of such an opportunity.

ATTN!3: I’m just a nonbinary bean with terrible grammar and a knack for angst, also English is not my first language. I WILL ADD TO THIS.

Enjoy!

First Part:

In the mining town of Erebor, up north where the weather is crisp and the fog is as blinding as ever, the main source of income comes from the mithril veins hidden deep into the Lonely Mountain. Still fairly unknown to the masses as a viable alternative to steel for industrial products, mithril is considered to be nothing but a lower metal of very little use a part from being modeled as framing works for jewelry coming from the west.

Bilbo Baggins has followed his parents in this particular corner of the world after certain indiscretions had spread in the southern town of Bag End. At his cousin Prim’s wedding in London the previous summer, in fact, Bilbo had found himself rejecting the unwanted advances of a certain gentleman right before being discovered by his mother as the two men were parting ways from a very heated discussion in a secluded room.

In order to not let others know about such circumstances, Belladonna had shared her intention with her sister Mirabella to uproot in the north, at least until the rumors had dissipated. Bungo, as loving and trusting as ever, had simply accepted her decision and disposed for them all to move to Erebor. In doing so, he had consequently left his position as a parish in Bag End, not wavering in his faith, but merely willing to give his family what they needed to be happy.

Bilbo himself is no longer a lad: close to reach his thirties, many have speculated around the truth about his sudden return to his father’s home leaving his studies at Oxford out of the blue. Up until now, Bungo had protected his son by simply stating to the citizens of Bag End how needed Bilbo was, and Belladonna had made sure no mouths could run and shame her son in the meantime. But those days are over now, and their new town might not be as easily outsmarted this time around.

Heavy with sorrow for making his family move, Bilbo has resigned to keeping his life on check from now on, willing to sacrifice his happiness in order to keep his parents safe and healthy. Not being able to walk without a cane after his last days at Oxford, Bilbo finds himself constantly torn between revealing what had happened there and run away from all those eyes watching his every move. Luckily, in Erebor no one expects much of him, and any possible question regarding his lack of employment while he could no more benefit from being the only son of a parish is met with a simple gesture towards his bad leg. People seem complacent enough to overlook his poor excuse of a lie as long as they can speculate over his father’s decision to move up north.

Filled with guilt at the inability to defend his father against the rumors, Bilbo is reassured over and over again by his mother that they had made the right decision. The price for her understanding, however, seems to be an even greater burden for Bilbo: never speak of his true nature ever again, not even to his parents. Not even to himself.

Gandalf Gray, an old friend of Bungo’s, close enough to the family to understand the implications of their sudden uprooting, has decided to take Bilbo under his wing and show him around while his father has a chance to meet the pupils Mr. Gray has gathered for him to talk to. Having traveled all other the world, Mr. Gray is not new to the hardships Bilbo has encountered and his honesty and desire to help comforts Bilbo while he navigates the wastelands of melancholy that moving so far away has ensued.

While visiting one of the many mines belonging to the Durinson household, Bilbo finds himself shocked at the sight of its master beating one of his miners out of the mountain in a fit of rage. Little does he know what perils hide into the tunnels eroding the Lonely Mountain one inch at a time, or what are the dangers that fire and gas can bring to those working in the dark, with only the aid of candles and caged birds to save them from death.

Still, Bilbo tries to reason with said master, not knowing Thorin to be their landlord and one of his father’s pupils on top of that. Only thanks to Mr. Gray Bilbo is spared from Thorin’s anger by introducing him as a dear friend of his, but this doesn’t protect Bilbo from receiving yet another shock as the man simply turns and strides away after the worker he had just beaten up.

Meeting the man in his own home later that very same week, Bilbo is confronted with the absolute necessity from his part to embody a perfect son and the perfect guest, no matter how much he despises sharing a room with their landlord. But given the circumstances, he tries not to think about him too much while Bungo teaches Thorin all about philosophy and literature: he listens to their lessons half expecting to be invited to share his thoughts on his father’s many interpretations of the ancient sources... but eventually feeling much more at ease staying quiet by his armchair while the other two talk.

Judging from Thorin’s curiosity and will to learn, Bilbo convinces himself to have misjudged the man based on what he had seen at the mines, and later on investigates the matter further with his father and with Mr. Gray over a cup of tea. Apparently, after the sudden death of both of his parents when he was just a child, Thorin, his brother Frerin and their older sister Dis had been entrusted to the care of their grandfather, Thror: a man driven mad by his lust for gold to the point he had closed the mines twenty years before just to barricade himself inside the mountain in search of a vein of gold that never existed. Thorin’s little brother Frerin, small enough to wiggle his way in between the wooden bars Thror had used to close the openings, had looked for his grandfather anywhere before the main tunnel had collapsed on both of them one cold night of December.

Horrified by such a discovery, Bilbo has already spent many a day trying to find the courage to apologize to Thorin by the time he meets Bain, Sigrid and Tilda. The boy and his younger sister approaches him one day at the park, reminiscing of the way he had confronted Thorin at the entrance of the mine, where Bain works as well, while their older sister seems a little wary of Bilbo and apologizes to him for disturbing him so suddenly. On the other hand, Bilbo is overjoyed to have been met with such enthusiasm after weeks of isolation from actual social interaction and offers the siblings to walk them home... just as their father Bard comes into the picture, assuring Bilbo his services are not needed.

Intrigued by that little family, Bilbo tries to know more about them by lurking around the wooden houses destined to the miners skirting the suburban area at the bottom of the mountain, determined to pay them a visit with a basket of food to thank the kids for their kindness to him. Here, Bilbo gets to know the families of many of the miners, all relatively close to each other be it for family ties or friendship alone, that -surprisingly enough- seem more than happy to teach him a thing or two on how to survive the likes of Erebor and its masters.

From them comes the realization of how exactly Thror had compromised the economy of the city when he had closed the mines twenty years before. Many of the workers had found themselves jobless that year and, after the main tunnel had been deemed too dangerous to cross, new masters had come to the city and made their way with new holes into the mountain with no regards for safety. So many holes, indeed, that some workers avoided entering the Lonely Mountain for fear it could fall onto itself at any moment.

In all this, Thorin had been only sixteen and had to provide for his family now that his only guardian had perished in the depths of the main tunnel along with his little brother. Dis had been twenty then, and married a man coming from one of the richest families in town, who had provided for her and for their two sons up until his death, fifteen years before. Thorin, who had been fired to leave his studies in order to gain back his family’s honor by working for other masters, at twenty-one had made enough of a name for himself to be able to care for his older sister and nephews once more, as the customs required.

Dis, on the other hand, after losing her parents, grandfather, brother and husband, had accepted to go back home to her younger brother feeling like a caged animal, but not ungrateful enough to disregard the importance of the mines that brought them stability and wealth. Thorin, on the other hand, getting sterner by the year and low in spirits because of his newfound role as the head of their household, had become extremely protective of his family... just as much as Dis herself, the both of them manifesting some of the traits their own grandfather had shown by the time his obsession had piqued.

Even Bard and his kids had been willing to share some information with him by the time Bilbo discovers exactly how far the Durinson’s had prevented the growth of the town by limiting the number of caves under their watch. Bard himself seems set on hating the siblings for life, convinced the mountain could offer work to everybody without restrictions if only the Durinson’s were to let more people inside. He insists that gold lies under that mountain and that not even the Durinson’s should claim that vein for themselves while other masters have promised a job for everyone in town were the Durinson household to perish.

Struck by all those new revelations, one day Bilbo finds himself too overwhelmed to properly welcome Dis Durinson and her sons inside their home while his mother gets dressed upstairs. The woman strikes an imposing figure, just like her brother, dressed in all black with sober, yet quite beautiful blue earrings bringing out the coldness of her light-blue eyes. The oldest of her sons, affectionately called Kili by her, is roughly eighteen or nineteen years old and seems agreeable enough, asking Bilbo what wonders he has seen in London and what the south has to offer: curiosity getting the best of him contrary to his mother’s best judgment. Fili, instead, looks more lost than anything, not young enough to depend on his mother approval, but still not quite old enough to rebel against her composure and regal attitude.

Then, just as his mother welcomes them in her house, Bilbo notices how Belladonna has lost weight and how skirmish she looks. Being so distracted himself by his quest for knowledge in regards of Erebor and its history, Bilbo has completely overlooked him mother’s conditions and guilt overcomes him once more. Knowing that people were still talking about them because of the insinuations about his father’s decision to leave the Church, Bilbo is faced with shame and anxiety just by thinking how hard it must be for his parents to endure all of that pressure from the telltale coming from the upper society in town.

As he looks at Thorin’s sister and her impenetrable mask, he wonders how she must have felt when she had been married off to a rich man in order to save the family from disgrace. Because that is what the Baggins’ and the Durinson’s have been foreclosed to address, even if I’m different ways: disgrace. Profound and nasty disgrace.

Bilbo finds himself jealous of their luck in regaining control over their fate by hard work alone, but doesn’t voice his feelings as the woman and her sons leave. Nor does he want to speak of the matter with Thorin... until he does, while listening to his and Bungo’s usual lesson one day: feeling left out of the conversation, fed up with the way his family walks on eggshells around him, and impossibly frustrated with himself for not being able to seize Thorin’s character in his head, Bilbo accuses the man of being too full of himself to even care about the struggling miners, ready to strike in order to be allowed to look for gold in the mountain.

Immediately regretting what he has just said, already missing the opportunity to listen to Thorin’s deep voice asking intelligent questions, knowing how the man has been desperate to educate himself now that he had the opportunity to do so...Bilbo can only watch as Thorin greets him coldly and leave their house. Possibly to never return.

#bagginshield #the hobbit #n&s!au

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lorieninksong · 6 years

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My Journey through PTSD

A more thorough explanation. I wrote this for Deviantart and wanted to share it here, too.

Warning: The following includes descriptions of abuse against animals, children, hospital patients and suicide mentions. If this is not safe for you to read please turn back now or skip to the TL;DR section.

For the first time in a long time I am confident that I'm going to survive and recover from my PTSD. I'm out of the suicide risk zone, and though my body is still struggling it's no longer life threatening. Every day I still hurt but its significantly less, and I'm hoping with more recovery time and work I'll be able to not hurt at all one day. As it turns out the reason my complex PTSD (info: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Complex_… ) was so severe is that I've actually had it for ~20 years. I grew up in an abusive household, and was essentially raised to believe I was worthless. My father employed tactics of fear (stomping around the house, shouting at us, insulting us, and even abusing my pets on rare occasion) and my mother groomed me to be her, expressing derision when I tried to be anything different. She also once threw a vase or bouquet at my head (I can't remember which) as a toddler. The abuse of one of my parakeets by my father, though she thankfully didn't receive injury, lead into years of nightmares about my birds being hurt in a similar manner. These were my first PTSD symptoms. All of these things I was told were my fault, and I deserved it. I didn't. No child could. By the time I was diagnosed I had already been partially mauled by the medical system. I was prescribed medications based on what was in patent (so more money could be made from me) even though they were less understood and significantly less safe. My first psych med prescription landed me in the ER twice in 12 hours. The first time I was dismissed as someone seeking drugs, despite not having any record criminal or otherwise. When I came back in they had to test me for heart damage. Things didn't improve with a diagnosis; it took two years and three psychiatrists to start any kind of appropriate treatment. My first psychiatrist didn't do any kind of evaluation, handed me a list of drugs to chose from, and then abandoned me and all of his other patients with no warning or instruction. The next psychiatrist I found was obsessed with his own methods, scorning mainstream 'modern' medicine for an endless trial of quackery, lifestyle changes, and medications that did little to help me or caused harm. He also would have my spouse, who is not medically trained, research and present medications to him for me to try. This is part of how I ended up in the ER several times over this last winter. And let me tell you, the ER is an unkind place to the mentally ill. Also to people with chronic pain issues, and to anyone who happens to have a uterus or identifies as female. (I'm not a transwoman but I've heard plenty about how the medical industry treats them, not to mention women of color.) When I tried to kill myself by jumping off a bridge (I was stopped before I jumped) last summer I was taken by ambulance to an ER. I came in crying, terrified, and having one hell of a panic attack. Their response was to treat me like a violent criminal. The staff got aggressive quickly as I cried in a corner of the room I was escorted to, and forced me under threat of being forcibly stripped by a group of strangers (including armed men) to surrender most of my clothing in lieu of scrubs. Because "You could be hiding a bomb in there". That is what I was told by a nurse. They then trapped me in that room for the next twelve hours, and refused to treat the extreme physical pain that came from the physical symptoms of my PTSD. Additionally they took all of the medicine I had with me so I couldn't take care of myself, and someone helped themselves to some of my pills before they were returned. This was certainly the most egregious example of abuse I endured in various hospitals and clinics, but it was hardly an isolated incident. To make matters worse when the hospital I was going to couldn't find an easy explanation for the the severe pain I was experiencing after a few tests they just dumped me back out onto the street. Even after I was kept overnight for observation hooked up with a special heart monitor because my pulse was high and irregular. My current psychiatrist (who used to be a manager at a Providence hospital) is still concerned about my heart, and I may need to see a cardiologist. Even though I still was struggling to eat or sleep, and was still in agony. I have learned not to go to the hospital unless I think I may die. It's not worth it otherwise. Having to fight the medical system alongside the PTSD (and my insurance company constantly harassing me) was bad enough, but I also had to fight my family and friends. I received very little support from them, regardless of how close we were or how I had supported them in the past. And reaching out to them was an exercise in frustration at best. No one wanted to listen. And recently I found out a couple of family members/friends had labeled my PTSD and related issues as 'drama'. That they 'didn't have time for'. These were the same family members that when I wrote about how I was abused at the ER on my blog called me to tell me to delete the post. If that wasn't bad enough I recently found out that part of their motivation was a belief that I was lying, just exaggerating and being 'dramatic' about what happened. I'm baffled. I'm not a dishonest person. Worst of all nobody asked if I was okay. After that I stopped expressing myself even online, and became extremely socially isolated. Trying to reach out to people or express myself was too stressful. Outside of healthcare providers I didn't see anyone outside of my spouse and his parents, and only had one remaining friend (an online pen-pal) to talk to. This journal is not a call to action. I'm explaining what happened to me as a way of striking out at the voice inside of me, formed from the years of abuse, that tells me I deserve this abuse. Because I didn't deserve this. No one deserves this. No child deserves to be blamed for the decisions their parents made for them. No child deserves being raised by parents who made their resentment known to them about the financial burden of their upbringing. No child should come to feel guilty for the crime of being born, a miracle of survival that shouldn't be turned into a screwed up curse. I no longer speak to my parents. That line was drawn for my own safety, the safety of my new family, of my pets and my husband. Speaking up about the abuse they inflicted on me is my way of holding them accountable for their decisions. No family member deserves to have others in the family believe their illness to be a lie, to be told that their experiences aren't true. Family shouldn't gaslight (info: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaslight…) family. It's classified as abuse for a reason. I've needed to come out about what happened to me to process it and make it through, and for the past several months I've been too anxious to do so. Partly because of how some of the members of my new family (who I also thought were my friends) have gaslighted me, but also because I have a severe anxiety disorder that required medical intervention beyond my old psychiatrist's insistence I increase my magnesium supplement intake. Fortunately after I dumped him I found a competent, but difficult psychiatrist. She knows her medicines well, is frank about what she thinks of each medication, and recommended me the tried and true standard for treating depression and anxiety disorders. Yep, Prozac. Between that and continued therapy (EMDR specifically, which you can read about here www.emdr.com/what-is-emdr/ ) I'm starting to recover in earnest. My pain issues thankfully are being addressed between a specialty pain clinic and my medications. Fortunately they were able to stumble upon what was actually hurting me; muscle spasms, a common PTSD symptom. I'm working on physical therapy to recover and prevent further pain. These treatments and my own endurance have gotten me to this point, and I'm proud to say that. But I'm crushed that I had to fight through friends and family to get here, alongside the medical industry as a whole. When I first realized I was sick and made a journal about it, someone asked me if I'd write about my experiences in the medical health system. I didn't realize at the time why. Now I do. They asked my opinion, so here it is: the mental health system is broken. I was made significantly worse, to the point of nearly having a stroke (to quote my psychiatrist after I described my last trip to the ER) and likely nearly having died several times. And having tried to take my life several times. All of it was unnecessary. A large part of my suicidal ideation issues were merely the result of a lack of medical treatment. This part of why I'm working with deathstroke50 to leave the USA and move to Britain. Its hardly a perfect place, but we think we'll be happier there. And as it turns out the UK not only has a very informative website about PTSD (www.ptsduk.org/) but their standard treatment to try upon diagnosis is EMDR therapy alongside Prozac. Great. Only took me two hellish years and several near death experiences to get there. TL;DR I've been through some shit. Honestly I'm surprised I'm alive, after being repeatedly kicked while I was down by the medical system and a few of my family and friends. But I'm making changes in my life and getting better quickly. Also I'm trying to move to the UK. With me luck please~

#personal #mental health #eat that PTSD #cw animal abuse #child abuse #suicide #hospital patient abuse

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pomp-adourable · 7 years

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I can’t post this on facebook. I don’t want to share my story there. But I want to share it here. This is the story of a long distance ex-girlfriend of mine, who emotionally manipulated me into doing sexual things I didn’t actually want to do. I don’t know if that... “counts”, as part of this whole #MeToo initiative... But it did make me want to finally share the whole of this story. Details are under the cut.

When I was in college I had a long distance girlfriend named Stephanie. She was a transwoman, and that didn’t matter to me at all. At the time I considered myself Pansexual, and I just liked her for who she was. We would webcam on skype almost every day, watch netflix and anime together, and talk for hours.

One day though, she tried to initiate some sexual situation over webcam. When we connected on skype, she was topless, rubbing her breasts occasionally and I... was admittedly oblivious to what she was trying to do. I thought we were just going to watch anime together. I felt awkward, and unsure. I think at the time i just tried to play coy; I was a virgin, totally inexperienced, and had never been in this sort of situation before. I complimented her, to let her know I thought she was beautiful, but that’s as far as I went with it. I didn’t try to initiate any further. She seemed frustrated, and I specifically remember her saying “That’s not the reaction I was expecting from you.”

I think it was that same night, after we had logged off to go to bed, that she texted me after I had already left and said she needed to talk about something important. So I got back on skype, and we got on webcam, and she told me that “In a normal relationship, couples would be having sex by now.” (We had been dating maybe a month or two.) She said that she “had needs” and more or less convinced me that I was obligated to do something about it, because we were in a relationship. It’s what people in relationships do. That was the first time I took my clothes off in front of (a webcam for) someone. I only stripped down to my bra and panties, but I know she took screen shots of me and saved them.

The next time it happened, we connected on webcam, and she was completely naked. I’ll remind you that she was pre-op MTF, so she was stroking her penis, and was actually bragging about how big it was. She told me I should get naked too. I said I didn’t really want to masturbate on camera with her. She told me I didn’t have to, but that I should get naked any way, and she could masturbate to it. So I fuckin did. Of course. I do remember refusing to show her the “pink of my pussy”, which she had been very disappointed about. I know she took screen shots, again. I didn’t stay to watch her masturbate. I don’t know what excuse I made to leave, but I know i didn’t stay and watch her.

After that, we met in person, but I was very firm with her that I didn’t want to have sex. Which she said was fine. The most we did was make out in the back-seat of my best friends car on our drive home from Disney world. It was the most awkward situation of my life. My best friend and her best friend made awkward small talk while we sucked face in the back. I remember it was fucking disgusting, because I could taste her bad breath, and it actually made me gag. I remember she reached under my shirt and pulled my breasts out of my bra and pinched my nipples, but when I tried to do the same to her she made me stop. I refused to let her put her hand down my pants so she settled on grabbing my ass over the underwear.

I wasn’t FORCED to do any of this. I reluctantly consented to it. I pretended to be excited about it. But I did it all because I thought I loved her, and was afraid she would leave me if I didn’t do it. Or I was afraid she would do something to harm herself if I didn’t validate her. She had convinced me that these were things normal couples did. I had never been in a normal, healthy relationship before, so I was naive, inexperienced, and too worried about hurting HER feelings to refuse her. She was so sensitive. Being transgender, she was constantly seeking validation from me, that I saw her as a woman. That I thought she was beautiful. And I was so afraid that if I refused to do these sexual things for her, that she would think that I didn’t REALLY believe she was a beautiful woman. I did see her as a beautiful woman... but really, I just wasn’t attracted to her. (That’s a whole other can of worms. That situation lead me to believe that I was actually asexual, BECAUSE I hadn’t attracted to her. “How could I not be sexually attracted to the person I love?” I thought maybe I was an asexual panromantic. But now, I’ve since decided that sexuality is confusing and fluid, so I just use the term Queer.)

Or maybe I wasn’t attracted to her because of the way she urged me into doing these things that I didn’t actually want to do, that I only did because I thought I was supposed to, that it was normal, and this was a thing normal couples did... That I was supposed to give my partner sexual gratification even if I didn’t really want to.

Ultimately, she broke up with me. She said she couldn’t take the distance, and I said it was okay, that I understood. Inside, I was so, so fucking overjoyed that she’d broken up with me. I always told people “It was a mutual decision, because of the distance.” In reality, I’d been hoping she would break up with me for weeks. Because I was too weak to break up with her.

I’ve grown a lot as a person since all of this happened. At the time, I didn’t realize that I was being emotionally manipulated. Now, years later, I can stand back and see the situation for what it really was. It was abusive. Maybe not on purpose. Maybe she hadn’t been intentionally manipulating me. Maybe she was just seeking validation for her own insecurities. But that doesn’t fucking matter to me any more. I don’t care what her excuses were. She hurt me. And only now, that I’m in a healthy, loving relationship, am I starting to realize just how deeply she’d hurt me. And with the help of my partner, I’m finally starting to heal.

#pompadourable #tw: abuse #tw: emotional abuse #tw: emotional manipulation

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undead-storyteller · 7 years

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I need advice!

So, a friend one mine had his sister run away from home today and left her family a note about her sexuality, gender identity (she is AMAB transwoman) and some other things. I knew she was trans from her brother, but she never came out to me the few times we talked (even though I politely and directly asked her bc my brother is FtM and suffered a lot in silence, so since her family wasn't part of the process, I wanned to have me to talk to in case she needed), so I respected her privacy. Now I feel like I should try and reach out to her, but would I be being intrusive? I want her to be safe and feel safe, and I know how much it affected my brother to go through it without much support. She has a safe space here on tumblr, but I think it would be nice for her to know she has people in life outside tumblr that she could reach out to... To be fair, we are not close. We discussed things like sexuality and gender before, so (I hope) she would know she could talk to be about these things. I don't want to reach out to her in such a sensitive time and make her feel like I'm invading her privacy... Any one with some advice on the subject? She might be somewhere safe, who knows, but I sorta feel responsible for her.

#transgender #help #advice #mtf #lgbtqia #trans girl

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thirtyonestories · 8 years

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The Wait & See Approach

Does anyone know what’s up with television writers/showrunners nowadays just taking the “wait and see” approach when it comes to their shows? Like I’m generally curious what’s with this new trend of supposedly just letting the story go where it goes. The first time I ever witnessed this was on Gossip Girl when it finally came to revealing who Gossip Girl actually was (Spoiler Alert!!!) Dan. The reason I noticed it was because I had binged the entire show right before the final season premiered so nearly everything about the series was still right there in my mind as I watch the episodes leading up to the series finale. When they finally revealed that Dan was Gossip Girl, all I could think was that it didn’t make any sense. There were multiple moments throughout the series who Dan would have been incapable of learning the information Gossip Girl did and if he was, then you get into the creepy way he put his sister’s sexual exploits on blast and had a hand in driving her out of town, even if it was apparently for her benefit. I just don’t understand how you can build an entire show around a shadowy character who constantly exposes the secrets and exploits of other characters but not have some semblance of an idea who it is. Any good writer would plot something like that out and leave hints only the most committed and dedicated audience members would pick up on. Instead, the showrunners waited till the last season to figure out who Gossip Girl was and probably threw a dart at a board or spun a wheel of character names to decide. *** I’m going to bold different sections for each show I talk about.

Pretty Little Liars

You run into the same isssue with Pretty Little Liars which definitely has the same format as Gossip Girl except more sinister. The villain of the series is a shadowy character known as A who, during the sixth season was revealed as (spoiler alert!!!!!!) Cece Drake.The issue with this reveal is throughout the series Cece was known as an acquaintance of Allison Dilaurentis and dated her older brother, Jason Dilaurentis. She apparently went to school with Jason, was prom queen, was known by/friends with multiple characters around the same age bracket. There was alot of history that went into developing Cece as a nonthreatening “frenemy” of the main girls but not the person who was terrorizing them. However, the season six reveal changed all that and revealed that Cece was apparently born Charles Dilaurentis (as in the twin of Jason, the person she dated but was justified in show since they never had sex). Other things like timelines, questionable motivation, flashback scenes in previous seasons, and previous confessions by the character in question also add up to the writers not having any actual idea who really was and chose an arbitary character who was convenient and brownie points (by making her a transwoman).

Arrow

Now with Gossip Girl and Pretty Little Liars, those examples could be seen as coincidence given the years separating the two tv series and the trend of only deciding who the villain is during the final seasons but I've seen examples of the wait and see approach in numerous other shows as well. In the tv show Arrow, the fourth season’s premier episode literally ended with a flash forward of someone’s (a major cast member’s) funeral. The showrunners said multiple times this death would change the show going forward and affect all the characters. I mean, with a main cast members death who had been on the show for seasons you would assume as much. However, when the character’s death episode finally aired (despite the death being leaked a few weeks prior) the writer’s revealed that when they introduced the plot of killing of a major character they had no idea who it would be. They decided to just let the story decide who they would kill off. I’m sorry but as a writer I feel there are certain things you absolutely have to plot out and one of those things are a character’s progression. Death is not the only tool to get a story going and nowadays it just seems like a cheap ploy for the shock factor in most television shows. Especially since this death was for Spoilers!!!! Laurel Lance, a mentally ill woman and former alcoholic who literally had no story all season besides reviving her sister from the dead (who had already “died” three times). I understand sometimes characters/people die suddenly and without rhyme or reason. It’s tragic, it’s unexpected, and it reminds you just how short life is. However, if you build an entire season around a mysterious death that is meant to happen six or seven months in the future, it’s no longer unexpected or sudden. If as a writer you decide I want to kill a character but don’t decide which character to kill until right before you’re slated to film an episode, maybe don’t introduce the plot to begin with. Audience members don’t like to be blindsided and walk away from something feeling nothing else but “what the fuck was that?” Then, after killing said character off don’t pretend she had such a tremendous legacy and impact that inspired people but you never showed it. That’s lip service and for anyone watching the shows, knows it’s bullshit. All it comes off as trying to justify why this character was murdered even though there’s no logical excuse. If this character was so inspiration and had such a great legacy, why was none of that shown in the show? And if she was so crucial and the show can’t be done without her, why kill her off?

How To Get Away With Murder

The same thing happened recently with How To Get Away With Murder. The premier episode of the season ended with a flash forward of the main/lead character pulling back the sheet of a dead body and subsequent episodes slowly revealed one by one who was still alive and wasn’t under the sheet. Eventually, it was revealed that Spoiler!!! Wes Gibbons, another main character/secondary lead was actually the body. The issue with this reveal was not only that they didn’t initially figure out who they were going to kill off (though they didn’t wait as long as the arrow showrunners did) but by killing off the character Wes, they had to cram in a bunch of bogus flashbacks to make it believable other main cast members really did feel distraught by his death. Two of the characters, Connor and Michaela, had spent 2.5 seasons insulting, belittling, blaming, demeaning, and in Connor’s case, threatening Wes for things out of his control but the episode following the reveal of his death they had both apparently shared touching moments with her and were upset by the fact that he was dead. Then of course his five second love interest was given a flashback to try and make it seem like their relationship had more depth/growth than it actually did before the showrunner killed him off. The whole thing came off as if they were trying to justify murdering this character under the guise of him reaching the end of his arc but if that were true why the crammed in flashbacks trying to make it seem like the other characters had some profound and touching connection with him when previous to the episode, most of them didn’t speak more than a couple sentences to him. Why try to make the Wes/Laurel relationship so important and have Laurel be pregnant only to kill him off (this is a character who hasn’t known a moment of happiness since he watched his mother die when he was like 8 or so.) At the same token, this is a character whose very existence started the chain reaction for most of the events in the show and was directly linked to each midseason mystery for better or worse. Killing off a character so directly tied to the narrative who had also literally been given a new arc comes off premature and like the showrunner just wanted to join the hype train of killing characters just because (especially women, people of color, queer, any combination of the three). And apparently, the character of Wes will still appear sporadically for flashback sequences but that begs of the question of what can this character do dead that he couldn’t do alive? Why did he need to die to develop everyone else? So we could get unjustified remorse from Michaela and Connor? So the showrunners can pretend the character actually had no more story to tell by using bogus flashbacks?

I just don’t understand how these writers are put in charge of these (admittedly highly successful, formerly in arrow’s case) shows yet don’t know the basics of storytelling. You don’t introduce a plot without a reasonable beginning and ending, you don’t introduce a character unless they have an actual purpose, you don’t cram in a ton of information about a character after the fact to justify an obvious shock factor/ratings grab death even if it is the midseason or season finale. And the sad thing is, in the case of every single one of these “wait and see” plotlines, the shows have received a ton of backlash. So why exactly do writers insist of repeating the mistakes of those before them?

#anti arrow #anti arrow writers #anti how to get away with murder #anti marc guggenheim #wes gibbons deserved better #pro laurel lance #anti pretty little liars

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kittyit · 8 years

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A little earlier I got really upset because I know several of my friends are being witchhunted for being friends with me and got the urge to start apologizing and begging for people to think I’m not evil. I made a post apologizing for how I acted after Max & I posted about being radical feminist. A few of my friends reached out to me to talk about it (thank you so much) and I decided to try to come at this from a way more self-empathetic angle.

I usually kind of brush off what happened after we made our post to be a joke. “Yeah lol all my friends said they wanted me to die and someone tried to convince me they were going to my mom’s house to kill her but she lives on a boat.” Hilarious. It’s hard for me to talk about what happened because of how upsetting and crazymaking it was. Max, who openly expressed on her blog how shitty it was for her, was accused of being an emotionally manipulative abuser and I’m pretty sure the same thing will happen about this post.

On some circles on this site I’m often framed as this incredibly evil woman. It’s not true. I’m not going to beg you not to think that, I’m just going to openly state it as a lie and a male reversal. I definitely “acted crazy” (openly displayed trauma responses) both in public and in private. I messaged people who had posted about me and initiated conflict with them. I misremembered facts, then when confronted with that, immediately apologized, amended my statements, and have stuck to that. There are rumors about Max & I that are ludicrous: she was never really trans/faked her transition and we were just scamming transwomen with ZP the entire time, I believe Joseph Mengele created trans people/all trans people are nazis, that I’m a serial abuser of “underage transmen” or a cult leader. It’s absolutely wild. But these weren’t the things that got me labeled evil & worth of starving to death to the streets, they were just fuel on the fire.

The thing that got me labeled a TERF (worthy of death) was naming male violence. It was discovering politics that allowed me to name the 20+ years of sexual abuse from men and the ~8 total years of sexual abuse & 4 years of steadily escalating emotional/physical/sexual abuse from transwomen as male violence. It was Max & I getting tired of seeing our female friends sexually & emotionally abused by transwomen. It was watching a serial rapist man who had expressed interest in nail polish a few times suddenly vocally identifying as a twoc to deflect being outed as a rapist - and it working. It was watching transwoman figurehead after figurehead being outed as a pedophile, rapist, sexual or emotional abuser & it being excused and deflected because they were transwomen.

Making a carefully worded, diplomatic post about the reality of sex based oppression and male violence still being relevant in the radical queer community resulted in a lot of evil things. It resulted in many, many messages telling me to kill myself, insulting my appearance, insulting my genitals, denying that I was raped/abused, telling me I deserved rape/abuse, rape threats, death threats, & gendered insults. I don’t know how many. I deleted anywhere between 5 - 20, sometimes more if a post was going around, every day for months.There was one specific exchange in which someone did their best to convince me that they had my mom’s address and they were driving to her house to kill her because I was a TERF. I knew they were lying because my mom lives on a boat, and it was pretty stupid of them to continue insisting I was lying after I said that, but what if she didn’t live on a boat? What if I hadn’t known they were just trying to terrorize me and make me think they were going to kill my mom instead of, you know, actually killing my mom? There was one specific pretty pornographic exchange in which someone sent a 5+ part graphic message about how they were going to physically & sexually torture me and then when I was begging for death only kill me after I had said that “trans women are women and beautiful and valid” and meant it.

It resulted in regular accusations that other people anonymously telling me their stories of abuse & rape from transwomen were me making things up for attention & my transmisogynistic agenda. There was relentless public mocking of my trauma, appearance, word choices, brain damage/intelligence level, & boundaries by transwomen, which was really hard for me to handle in a diplomatic and calm way due to the multiple years of intense trauma of being treated that way by a transwoman I was trapped in an abusive relationship with.

When I made mistakes and acted crazy (displayed trauma responses) in ways that affected and upset other people, as soon as I was done acting crazy (having a trauma response), I immediately apologized, took responsibility for my actions, and reiterated that I was working really hard on not doing this anymore. And you know what? It’s working. I’m in recovery. Did any one who sent me any of these messages or said these things about me apologize or try to stop this behavior? No, not that I know of. If you’re going to call someone evil in this situation, why is it me?

I recently read Witchcraze: A New History of the European Witch Hunts and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Obviously, I was not physically and sexually tortured and then tied to a stake and burned alive (or after strangling, if they were feeling generous), but the parallels are there - the pressure from patriarchal forces to confess, just admit you’re an evil woman, anything to try to make that pressure stop. The intentional destruction of women’s knowledge and women’s communities because of the threat to males. Women’s livelihoods being used as pawns in male games. Women who haven’t been branded witches yet seeing what happens to women who are and understanding that it could happen to them just as easily if they step out of line.

I am not an evil woman. I am not a bad person. I am a flawed, traumatized woman doing my best to help other women with what I have. I am committed to self improvement, self awareness, nuance, and truth. I don’t want to beg for your forgiveness anymore or continue validating the part of me that says I really am evil and I did deserve all of this I’ve said and all of the things in this post I haven’t said. I understand that I will still be condemned, but I just wanted to explain what you are justifying & excusing when you condemn me.

#prsnl #terf

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readincolour · 7 years

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#BookReview: THE SUPREMES SING THE HAPPY HEARTACHE BLUES by Edward Kelsey Moore

Summary: When a late-in-life love affair blooms between Mr. Forrest Payne, the owner of the Pink Slipper Gentleman’s Club, and Miss Beatrice Jordan, famous for stationing herself outside the club and yelling warnings of eternal damnation at the departing patrons, their wedding brings a legend to town. Mr. El Walker, the great guitar bluesman, gives a command performance in Plainview, Indiana, a place he’d sworn—for good reason—he’d never set foot in again. But El is not the only Plainview native with a hurdle to overcome. A wildly philandering husband struggles at last to prove his faithfulness to his wife. A young transwoman lights out for Chicago to escape her father’s wrath and live an authentic life. And then there are the lifelong friends, known locally as “The Supremes,” who show up every Sunday after church for lunch at Earl’s All-You-Can-Eat—Clarice, facing down her longed-for chance at a great career; Barbara Jean, grappling at last with the loss of a mother whose life humiliated both of them, and Odette, reaching for her husband through an anger of his that she does not understand.

Review: It goes without saying that the latest from Edward Kelsey Moore is a delightful read. Not since Eric Jerome Dickey burst upon the literary scene in the 90s has a male author written such well rounded, fully realized female characters. Moore's characters are thoughtful, insightful, funny women. They value friendship, family and love, and heaven help you if you mess with anyone they consider a friend or family member. The author was in St. Louis last night to talk about his latest and he dazzled the audience with his infectious smile and sense of humor. Though I've read both of the Supremes books, the characters came to life once again through his jocular style of reading. He even managed to find the humor in a loud book store patron who didn't seem to know, or care, that he'd interrupted an artist at work. As Moore tells it, he came later in life to writing. A professional cellist for over 30 years, he's just now starting to realize that the writing could be a thing for him. He told us the story of an aunt that attended funerals regularly, even if the deceased was just a passing acquaintance - a real life Weeping Wanda if you will. But she didn't just attend the funerals, she took him along as a child, and when she returned home, she'd call her friends and rate them on the floral arrangements, how many were in attendance, how much people cried, etc. So when his publisher called to let him know that his first book had hit the New York Times bestseller list, what was his immediate thought? My obituary is going to be fabulous! How can you not love an author like that? I'd certainly love to see more from the Supremes and the residents of Plainview, Indiana, but I'd be just as happy with anything else he writes. And I promise that if you read just one of Moore's books, you're going to want to read the other. And then you'll be like me, sitting around waiting to see what he does next. And whatever it is, you know that just like his obituary, it's going to be fabulous! 320 p. Published: June 2017 Disclaimer: Copy of book received from publisher, opinions are my own. July 14, 2017 at 11:00AM from ReadInColour.com http://ift.tt/2sYHEmj

#Books #ReadInColour #WeNeedDiverseBooks Edward Kelsey Moore #The Supremes at Earl's All You Can E

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theunabridgedgamer · 8 years

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Shutter (Vol 1 - 3) Review

Talking psychotic robot clocks, grand old school adventure, and cyber roman lion bounty hunters. This one has it all, and is one hell of a journey.

Also, bear in mind, minor spoilers.There is also one specific quotation from the end of Volume 2, but it is block quoted so it can be easily skipped. I try to avoid the majority of the story’s twists and turns, but some examples and key points needed to brought up. I apologize for the inconvenience.

So, without further adieu, this is…

Shutter (Volumes 1 - 3)

Writer: Joe Keatinge Artist: Leila Del Duca Letterer: John Workman Colors: Owen Gieni Cover Artist: Leila Del Duca Format Read: Collected Trade Publisher: Image

You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this one!

Shutter is a prime example of what makes comics so different from other media. It is as heavily reliant on its vivid visuals as it is its razor sharp writing, and it blends the two (along with twists on several comics conventions) into a riveting tale of famed explorer and photographer Kate Kristopher dealing with the sins of her father while trying to figure out her own identity. Also, things like this happen:

Yes, that is an assassination hit being ordered in Sunday newspaper comic strip paneling. The story uses this sort of framing device at several points, actually, and while you’d think it might clash with an otherwise more “Gabriel Ba but somehow more intensely on acid than usual” aesthetic, it works remarkably well. In fact, the story seems to pride itself on continually breaking traditional barriers without even a hint of smugness or pretension. It knows the story it wants to tell, it wants to tell it as well as it can and it does not give a shit how crazy the means to tell that story may become.

It uses flashbacks sparingly yet has an incredibly complicated history for all its characters. It changes narrative framing to seemingly minor characters, building them up only to kill them off or shift course entirely until far later down the line, like something out of Urasawa’s Monster. The world is too complex to be fully explained in one series, let alone a single book. The sheer density of it all hits you like a freight train, and you just cling on for dear life as it rushes along.

And when I say it rushes along, I mean it flows fast as all hell. The sense of momentum to Del Duca’s art is amazing, and makes me hope that some day this comic will get turned into something animated. Each panel looks like a frame of animation given an extra polish of detail. You have to linger on each page and just soak in all the details. The earthy tones of the world give Shutter a rather grounded feel, and are contrasted by the bright hues whenever conversations get intense or bullets start flying. The layers Gieni adds punctuate the world when other colorists might have simply given the line work all the emotional reigns.

Owen Gieli’s coloring, lighting and shading, on top of Del Duca’s expressive line work and use of perspective; just absolutely astounding work all around.Credit must also be given to the lettering by John Workman. The lettering is not only varied and impactful, but the bubble placement is always directing your eye to the next critical moment.

The story itself is also quite endearing, despite the larger than life setting and progressively large cast of characters. At the heart of all things is Kate, daughter to the famous (and now deceased) explorer Chris Kristopher, and current travel photographer. She’s got a flat with her transwoman friend Alain and a talking robot cat clock. Life was always an adventure for Kate, but after her father’s passing, she’s tried to put those times behind her.

However, when a gang of rabbits, ninja spirits, and a robot start fighting over Kate against a lion mafia hit squad (yes I just wrote that sentence with a straight face), things quickly begin to unravel as all of Chris’ past choices all start to come crashing down on Kate. A quick visit to the old family home leaves Kate with more questions than a struggling 20-something ex-adventurer can handle, leading to a struggle to regain control in the face of a world determined to force her down a path she refuses to go down.

Among the early revelations for Kate is that her father sired several children, some of which would very much like for Kate to be dead, and others just as innocent as Kate in the ongoing schemes for power and revenge. Along the way, cyber-foxes, secret societies, and even inter-dimensional entities come to blows with Kate and her ever shifting group of allies.

If there’s one thing you are probably noticing at this point, it’s that a core focus of the entire series is on defying expectations and cutting your own path, even if you struggle for it. From the way the story is told to the actions of our protagonist, the traditional Campbellian hero’s journey gets tossed out the window in favor of a protagonist who actively says things along the lines of “no, f**k that noise, we’re doing this my way” and grapples with the consequences; which is part of what makes Shutter so interesting.

In improv, you’re taught to always say “yes”, no matter what, but Shutter makes a compelling argument for how much more interesting things can become in a story when you dare to say “no”. Volume 2 encapsulates this beautifully with Kate’s rant when she stands before a coallition of her enemies who have been pulling the strings and causing suffering for all those she cares about:

I’ve been trying to deal with it all. Sometimes very poorly and definitely too reactionary because I hoped it’d go away on its own. Sometimes I caved in and ended up doing some really stupid shit, like running off with a minor and possibly killing a fox or jackal or whatever she was, instead of using my brain. And the whole time you all keep relentlessly coming at me with this issue or that whatever, and I kept trying. And I kept messing up. Because everything you all want out of me isn’t who I am.

Everybody feels like I have to deal with their crap or alter my life to suit their needs and do things their way. But guess what? FUCK EVERYBODY! You all want me? You all got me! But on MY terms. Kate Kristopher is back. By popular demand. And she’s going to fight every one of you morons until your collective bullshit is straight up non-existent. Any questions?

So long, Hollywood bog-standard “the chosen one” narrative storytelling! While some stories have taken this concept and rolled with it, like Avatar: The Last Air Bender, Shutter does all it can to flip that notion the hell off and tells it to go jump in a lake.

It’s a sentiment that appeals to us all, dealing with a world that always demands more of us than what we’re often prepared to give, and is a universal story as a result. The at times absurd scenarios Kate and company find themselves in work because the unusual is normal in the world of Shutter. You can’t get lost in the grass critiquing a particular political angle or detail because the world is intentionally built to shut up that noise and get everyone to sit down and focus on what it’s actually trying to tell. It’s kind of a reverse mute-button, going full blast to keep your attention.

For example Chris Jr., Kate’s secret little brother, has to use a shotgun on someone at some point in self-defense. They address it and talk briefly about it, but in the context of survival and making snap decisions, not the gun itself. Alain being trans is a part of her character development, they even devote a flashback to it, but that’s not even a tenth of Alain’s character as Kate’s best friend and an awesome ass-kicker coming in to save the day. The existence of deities is known and some pay reverance to arcane aspects of the world but others don’t and no one blinks an eye either way. Ghost ninjas aren’t terrifying so much as a nuisance, with people dismissing their ancient moans as a running gag for the first volume.

it’s not that the story doesn’t obviously have a liberal slant, and it’s far from pro-spirituality, but also isn’t taking potshots at anyone (unless you’re part of an ultra-secretive Illuminati-esque organization, in which case, um, hi!). And in our current online and political landscape, that is a refreshing change of pace.

As if I haven’t gushed enough, it must also be said that good gravy are the amount of cogs in motion in this story just utterly insane. I wasn’t kidding when I said the story could pull Monster levels of bouncing about, with character development for the whole cast and a litany of sub-plots playing out. Also, unlike certain video games, these sub-plots do get properly fleshed out over time, even if the narrative can ignore certain plot beats for a time before bringing them back into focus.

There’s also a sequence in chapter 3 that goes so meta that you almost double-take at the sequence on display. It’s pretty typical for such a surreal universe to have a crazy drug-induced dream sequence, but Shutter goes out of its way to really knock your socks off, and that’s all I’ll say.

Beyond that, I fear I’d spoil too much of the experience for you describing what happens. The series so far has reached Volume 4, and I’ve got my copy patiently sitting on my desk as I write up this review. Each act of the story has taken two volumes, so I’d imagine it will take at least until Volume 6 to wrap everything up.

If you’re interested in catching up before Volume 5 gets collected, you need to decide if you are going physical or digital. Digital copies have been fairly cheap on Comixology recently, but I honestly plan to get the copies I have digital in physical form at some point. The volumes do cost $15 a piece, but the art is just so much more vivid in physical form, with some of the best covers I’ve seen in ages.

In Summary

Shutter is probably one of my new all-time favorite series. It’s fresh, interesting, laser-focused and realistic of its limitations but also ambitious as hell within those very same boundaries. I can’t wait to see how Kate’s quest to solve the conspiracies and save her friends pans out, but odds are good it’s going to be one hell of a final fight. Until then, it’s going to be a very trippy, hilarious, poignant, and beautiful ride. Available at: https://www.amazon.com/Shutter-Vol-1-Wanderlost-TP/dp/1632151456/ref=pd_bxgy_14_3?_encoding=UTF8&psc=1&refRID=EYFQSKZBNEHSEWH74TY8 For: $3.99 - 14.99 (Depends on if you get it digital, especially in the case of sales, or physical) Next Time: Giant Days (Volume 1) FOR REAL THIS TIME!

#Shutter #Comics #Comic #comic book #comic books #comic review #image #image comics #inkblots and madness #indie

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