#also THIS SAME BITCH WAS THE ONE THAT TAUGHT MY GROUP THE VITAL SIGNS AND SHE SKIPPED SO MANY STEPS BACK THEN HELLO

[irhabiya]

took L after capital L today

[izzy-b-hands]

Dancer Chapter Three

Chapter Three, let’s go! 

Vital events including: Shopping! Lap Dances! Smut! And maybe more??

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

His alarm blared from his phone, and he got up happy for a chance to shower and eat. He’d been told that everything put in the apartment for him wouldn’t be fancy or much, but that was fine. A warmish shower with a decent towel to dry off with, and a bowl of corn flakes was better than nothing.

He had more than a good few hours until he had to be at the club, and he used it to wander the shops, to find more than the BITCH emblazoned sweatpants. A lot of it was too expensive to buy on the allotment given to him by Kingsman, but there were a few things: a pair of black sweatpants free of any rhinestones, a few tank tops of the non-mesh variety in multiple colors, a pair of black skinny jeans, a pair of blue skinny jeans, and the loudest patterned suit jacket he’d ever seen. He figured Evan would love it though, and maybe Boniface as well.

Back at home, he settled in. Clothes in the closet, the towel from the club hand washed in the bathroom sink and left to dry on the counter, and his ‘work bag’ rearranged:

Pistols and ammo still hidden carefully, as well as the ear piece (thank goodness for the magic of the hidden pockets and sections Kingsman-made bags had)

All the mesh shirts, booty shorts, thongs, and G-strings refolded

The BITCH sweatpants in it as well (those would be his ‘heading home’ gear, he’d decided) and one of the sweatshirts

The multiple pairs of platforms shoved in haphazardly, because there was simply no nice way to get them in the bag with everything else.

By the time he’d done all that, there were still a couple of hours to wait. So he put together his outfit for the night.

A black mesh top, a dark blue G-string and booty shorts, and a pair of light blue platforms. Nothing overly showy, but he wanted to blend it as much as he could for the night.

Evan, however, thought differently once they got to the club. “Is that what you’re wearing tonight?”

They were in the same green room, it now bore a handwritten sign with his fake name on it, designating it properly his. He hadn’t realized it the day before, but all the other doors he’d barely been able to see as they passed them were also green rooms for the other dancers. Very few had to share, it seemed.

“Yeah. Thought I’d keep it simple for tonight,” Eggsy replied, and turned around in it. “How do I look?”

“Not ready for tonight, and I mean that as kindly as I can,” Evan replied. “Can I see what else you brought?”

Eggsy reached into his bag, and dropped some of the contents onto the couch.

“Hm,” Evan moved fast, picking up and rejecting items of clothing in a heartbeat. “This, not this, this one, and these. You’ve already got gold in your makeup, so that can stay.”

The black mesh top was safe, but he replaced the blue G-string with a shimmery golden thong, and a pair of golden booty shorts that were thin enough to nearly be see-through, and Evan pulled out the same gold platforms he’d worn the day before.

“Better?”

“Much,” Evan said. “Boniface has his favorite colors, looks, you’ll find out soon enough. But in the meantime, let me help you grease the wheels a bit. After all, sounds like you truly need it, if you know what I’m saying.”

Eggsy shook his head.

“Those apartment walls are thin,” Evan smiled. “But no worries, you’ll hear me as well, now that I can date again. And it was sweet, in a way. Moaning out his name like that...”

The blush that took over his face was utterly too warm, and he hoped it might just melt him right into the floor as Evan giggled.

“Don’t be embarrassed! Really, it’s fine. But, to make things a little more bearable for you, I figure we get you laid tonight. And he’ll be watching you already, but in this? He won’t be able to take his eyes off of you,” Evan said. “Ready?”

He wasn’t entirely sure he was, but he nodded, and then they were out.

The club truly was busy during normal hours, and he could barely get through the crowd to linger around the patrons sitting on the various chairs and couches that littered the club floor.

At first, it seemed like no one was even looking at him, or noticed him. Until a hand reached up and slipped a fiver into the waistband of his shorts.

“Who are you?” the man still had his hand at Eggsy’s waist. “Never seen you here before, and I would remember you for sure. I can’t recall a name, or a face, but I can always remember an ass, and yours is gorgeous.”

He took a breath, and slipped into his character. “Thank you! Not as gorgeous as you though.”

“Oh they have taught you well already,” the man laughed. “Here, sit on my lap and there’s more in it for you.”

Eggsy sat, and ignored the man’s creeping hand at the back of his shorts. “You’re here often then?”

The man nodded. “Marc. And you?”

“Wyn. I just started, this is my first night, actually.”

“You’re doing wonderfully,” Marc assured him, and handed him another fiver. “Go on, tuck it in your waistband. The tourists that wander in will give you more then, the more bills they see on you already. They want the best of the best, to make their experience the fullest it can be, you know. So seeing that is like pollen for bees.”

“I hadn’t figured tourists would stop in here much,” Eggsy said, eager to keep the conversation going. Maybe this man didn’t actually give a rat’s ass about anything more than his ass, but it meant he could sit and not worry about trying to fight his way through the crowd. Plus, who knew what else he might know and say.

“They do, but they don’t stick around long. They stay long enough to spend money, get grossly drunk, and then stumble vomiting back to their hotels,” Marc said. “Disgraceful, but who doesn’t like to get fucked up while on vacation, right? So I can give them that, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” Eggsy said. “As long as it doesn’t kill the mood, right?”

“Exactly,” Marc said, and shoved a fifty into Eggsy’s hand. “Now, I’ve taken up enough of your time. Go out there and kill ‘em.”

He struggled to hide his reluctance as he carefully put the fifty under his waistband, and got up and back into the crowd.

He was only out for a minute though before another hand pulled him close.

“Hey,” the man, one of the aforementioned tourists judging by the state of inebriation, nearly slopped his drink on Eggsy as he pulled him into his lap. “Dance on me like you’d fuck me. Go on, show me. Make it good.”

The tourists on the couch with the man jeered, but they were his only audience. The rest of the crowd were preoccupied with the music, the dancers on stage,  or one of the dancers wandering the floor. “Body Language” by Queen (finally, a song he recognized) was blaring, and he could do something with that, even as the man groped and pawed at him.

It helped to think of it as not the drunken man, but Boniface, though he dreaded to admit it. He wouldn’t know exactly if what he was doing was actually good in bed, but he did his closest approximation of it on the man’s lap, moving his hips to the beat against the man’s cock, very evidently hard in his jeans, a hand holding onto the back of the couch before he leaned back.

The man’s tongue on his chest made him jump, and knocked him out of his groove. He feared the worst in terms of a lost client, but Tony wasn’t running over for him.

“You don’t touch the fucking dancers like that!” Tony was steaming, motioning for Eggsy to get off of the man’s lap. “You don’t gotta fucking stand for that, get off of him, kid. We got fucking rules here, on the poster on the wall, all over the damn club. If you can’t follow them, you can’t stay!”

The man and his group protested, but Eggsy watched as Tony and a few other bouncers gathered to drag them out of the club. That seemed to be then end of it, until Tony returned with a twenty euro note.

“That’s the biggest note he had in his wallet, the prick,” Tony muttered. “You earned it though, you were doing well until he fucked up.”

Eggsy took the note and turned to try again in the crowd, but Boniface was right there as he turned. He didn’t say a word, just took Eggsy’s hand and half-dragged him through the crowd until they were through a door and into one of the back halls.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t know he was going to do that, and Tony told him he had to go, but if you want him back, I can go apologi-”

Boniface cut him off with a kiss, hard enough to hurt. “He did exactly what he’s supposed to. That fucker shouldn’t have had his tongue anywhere near you. Especially with the show you were giving him. He should be fucking grateful anyone would move like that on someone like him.”

Eggsy had a million things he wanted to say, but couldn’t seem to bring about the words for any of them, so he kissed Boniface instead. It was odd at first, and he was afraid it might be too bold, but Boniface kissed him back with no hesitance.

“I have a place. Attached to the club,” Boniface panted as they finally broke free of each other. “You’ll still get your pay for tonight, no worries.”

He took Boniface’s hand, and tried to ponder how to go about this, so as not to fuck any of it up. What would Boniface expect was the real question, but Evan had said to just be honest with him...

The ‘place’ was a small house on the same bit of land as the club, with an outdoor path at the back of the club that led to it. Inside, it was just as nice as Boniface’s office, more velvet, but in brighter colors. The man did seem to have a thing for gold and black, it seemed.

There wasn’t much time to dedicate to taking in the rooms though, as he was much more preoccupied with Boniface’s lips and hands as he was led through the house to the bedroom.

Boniface detached from him long enough to start stripping off his suit, and Eggsy took his chance.

“I want this, I want to say that first. But...I don’t know how else to say it. I’ve never gotten a chance to, experiment, if you will. I don’t want to mess anything up here, so-”

Boniface smiled and sat on the bed, patting the spot beside him for Eggsy.

He sat, and melted as Boniface kissed him so sweetly and softly it could have made him weep.

“I wondered. I didn’t want to ask outright, but I sort of figured. I don’t mind slow,” Boniface said. “We’ll try some things, see what you’re comfortable with, what you want to try as time goes on. How about that? And anything you don’t like or don’t want, you say no, and we don’t do it again, yes?”

Eggsy nodded.

“Good,” Boniface said, and gestured to the foot of the bed. “How about you give me a show before you join me in here, hm?”

It felt strange without music, but he took it slow, stripping off his mesh top, pulling at the tearaway portion of the shorts until they came off, then quickly undoing the ties of his platforms so he could kick them off before climbing into the bed.

He couldn’t keep quiet, no matter how hard he tried. Every lingering touch on his hips and ass, Boniface’s fingers pulling at his thong until Eggsy finally moved quickly to take it off, all left him moaning and clinging to Boniface as if...well. As if he was lonely, and wanting. Which he figured, he was, even if he hated that he was.

Boniface stopped them for a moment to grab a bottle of lube from the bedside table. “Just hands for tonight, okay? We have time to do more later, I promise.”

If his own hand felt good, Boniface’s was even better, slick with lube and somehow moving just as he wanted it, though he couldn’t manage to do more than moan and mumble and kiss.

Which made him all the more sure he wasn’t doing his best with Boniface’s cock, but he was trying to focus on reciprocating. And Boniface didn’t seem to have any objections, his head dipped against Eggsy’s shoulder, kissing and nipping at his neck, moaning just as loudly and muttering Eggsy’s fake name.

He had meant to hold back, but it was impossible. It was all too much, especially once Boniface’s other hand reached around to grasp the hair at the back of his neck, pulling it just ever so gently, but just enough to tip him over the edge.

His worries about how he was doing for Boniface disappeared as he followed right after him, biting down on Eggsy’s shoulder as he came. 

For a moment, it was heaven. Boniface smiling at him, kissing him softly while they both came back down from their highs, legs intertwined and hands tracing patterns over each other’s skin. 

Then, the door shook as if it might fall or break open. 

“Mr. Gagneux, we have a problem!” Another one of the bouncers, panicked, finally burst the door open. 

Eggsy tried to cover himself, but the bouncer was apparently used to the scene in front of him and didn’t so much as blink, addressing only Boniface. 

“What now?” Boniface sighed. “If that American is back, tell him we’ll call the police unless he goes, and he won’t be seeing Wyn again at all, that’s for sure.” 

“No,” the bouncer said. “Another...client. He’s here for the formula, but conveniently has brought no payment, just guns. They’re holding the whole club hostage.” 

[noodlemaz]

I recently discovered this podcast about linguistics called Lingthusism and we’ve really got into it, it’s great for driving and hanging out at home! Check it out; the hosts will infect you with their enlingthusiasm, too!

In Episode 15 the closing remarks from Gretchen prompted me to think about how the more we learn about something, the better (hopefully!) we can contextualise it and articulate how something affects us, people we know or groups.

…there’s a certain amount of similarity that linguistics has to another hobby that I’ve taken up – stargazing.

Before I started stargazing, I would go outside at night and look up at the stars and be like ‘wow there’s stars, that’s nice! They’re there! Look, pretty!’

I knew one or two constellations but if I couldn’t find those… oh, there’s stars.

Now that I’ve been stargazing for over a year and I know what most of the constellations are and how they move through the sky at different hours of the day and different times of the year and I have names associated with them – I go outside and when I look at the same sky, and what I see there is different because all of the individual pieces have meaning now and have associations with them and have patterns that I can see.

And obviously the sky hasn’t changed, I’ve changed.

But in many cases, language is kind of like all those stars – you’re surrounded by it all the time, you hear and see it, it’s there, but being able to look at language like a linguist looks at language, is, now you have words and you have frameworks that you can put in – here’s what all these sounds are, they’re not just a bath of sounds, they’re “constellations”.

So you have this way of making sense of all of the stuff you’re seeing and experiencing and putting it into some sort of context.

I think for me that’s one of the things that’s really magical about linguistics. And stargazing!

This really struck a chord with me. As I’ve said before, one of the frustrating things about being young is not having the vocabulary and understanding to effectively describe things that happen and the way they make you feel.

Here are a few constellations that, over the years, have come together and helped me make sense of the world to an extent. Non-exhaustive, of course.

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[Internalised misogyny, Gaslighting, Rape Culture and Bro Culture constellation slides]

We could name stars for concepts…

NotAllMen alpha You’re crazy centauri Ball & chain beta

But to be more positive, I also saw a post recently about Green Flags – the opposite of ‘red flags’ (little hints from words and behaviours that warn us of potentially abusive or otherwise dangerous and unpleasant people) i.e. hints that show you’re with a good person! Here’s a constellation for that, too.

Because while we’re sold a lot of red flags disguised as green ones (looking at you, RomComs), we’re also rarely actively taught what real respect, kindness and care looks like. So, let’s share examples of those to help each other out, too.

Why does this matter?

Perhaps it’s because of a recent conversation with a friend who’s recovering from a horrible relationship experience with a man (and hey that could be… just about any of my friends! Sad indictment of our world); they wondered how it can ever be easy to identify abusive people before you’re so wrapped up in it.

Honestly, I think it’s really difficult. Most of us have had run-ins we might have avoided if we’d known the signs. But sadly, society doesn’t teach us about red flags in a useful way – not to the extent it likes to couch abuse in the language of romance, thus sending extremely confusing and dangerous messages to children – who then become the adults entering into relationships that go badly.

A kind of relationship vaccine

People are quick to blame women especially for not realising how bad a person a man was, or for not ‘making him’ leave or change, when in reality it’s incredibly tough. Especially when combined with emotional manipulation and other forms of control. I think part of the reason it’s hard for us to identify is not having the frameworks in place to identify and describe these phenomena. But we can have them!

This is why women’s networking is vital, too, and why it’s often derided as gossip and bitching and other things that not only minimise its importance to men, but between women as well. The more women are discouraged from speaking to each other, the more abusers can get away with it, and with more people. Friendships are so valuable. And while ultimately our relationship decisions are down to us, a concerned friend who has experience and spots abusive tendencies can really save a life.

If we learn to spot and describe forms (or constellations) of problems in society, we can better understand and tackle them. Similarly, the more we share and discuss these aspects of behaviour and beliefs with people we know, the better equipped we all are to navigate our interpersonal relationships. Not just romantic ones; professional, platonic.

There are loads more that could be made – under the different axes of oppression; racism, anti-LGBTQ, ableism, classism – if you make one, let me know!

Friendships and frameworks I recently discovered this podcast about linguistics called Lingthusism and we've really got into it, it's great for driving and hanging out at home!

[cerebusfire17]

Disgrace and Validity

People--Soldiers--in the military disgust me anymore, and I’m not sure if it’s because I decided to get out, or if it was because I’ve lived in the civilian side of life for so long. 

I’ve seen so many comments saying how happy they are that the military is currently denying entry to trans people. It’s like “Hey, 2000′s called and they want their DADT comments back!” kinda deal. I was hearing this shit when I was in, even after DADT was lifted.

(Note: most of this is paraphrase, not literal text.) Someone will one day read this and tell me to get over it, or some other bullshit. I got over DADT when that was lifted, so I’ll probably get over this when this kind of shit stops, you know? is that fair? I’ll stop caring when it no longer exists. Until then, I’m probably not going to get over people getting treated like less than. It’s not as bad as the Slavs or Armenians, but still, it’s not cool in our society of today, is my main gripe. We just did this shit with gay people, and now we’re doing it to another group because????

                                                            Main shit I’ve seen/read/heard... So far. 

Some Soldiers say, “Good, the military has no time for feelings or this PC crap.”

Yeah, that was the argument they used when it came to Shell Shock, aka, PTSD.

Other soldiers have mentioned, “It’s a mental illness! The tax payers shouldn’t pay for their operations!”

Okay, first off, the military ISN’T going to pay for an operation. It doesn’t even pay for the ones authorized, and even when it does, you’re still given the majority of the bills. The military authorizes someone of the Trans life by having them evaluated, and the the process of treatment comes once it’s clarified that the person is indeed transgendered. After that, they have to evaluate whether or not the person will go through the transition period, with the option of operation SOLELY BASED ON THE POCKET OF THE PERSON GETTING THE OPERATION, not the military of the tax payers. It would be paid the say way as someone who developed mental issues overseas.

And let’s be clear: Not ALL trans people even have an operation. They get treatment yes, but not all of them change their gender via surgery. There are literally people who don’t know the first thing about this subject who only believe that being Trans means changing your genitalia, and that’s it. And they think they’ll look ugly for some reason? I’ve never understood that. Why would they purposely try to look like a dude if they’re trying to be a chick? That makes no sense to me.

Oh, you’re freaked out cause you found out this chick was a dude at one time? 

Okay? 

There are women who found out Ted Bundy was a murderer--the hard way. I think you’ll be okay, you whiny bitches. Go to Thailand, or Singapore and play the game “Who didn’t have a sex change?” Good luck to ya!  Fucking tools.

Also, if the excuse is mental illness, then almost everyone in the military should be thrown out.  If mental illness a problem, we have to fix that, don’t we? So, then I guess that tax payers shouldn’t pay for the soldiers to get treatment for their PTSD. It IS a mental illness, just like DG, right (God, anyone who refers to DG as a “mental illness” needs to stop watching Youtube. Fucking ridiculous and immature. You’re NOT A FUCKING DOCTOR, ffs)?

Then there are those that say, “They shouldn’t be allowed entry because it’s a ‘Pre-existing’ condition.”

So is breaking your arm at 8 and deciding to join 10 years later. So is pregnancy, apparently (Still don’t get that), but no! We shouldn’t allow people who allow others and themselves to “mutilate” their bodies join, that’s why amputees and bitches with fake tits are banned from the mili--

Oh, wait, they’re not.

Oh yes, and then there’s this quip: “The military doesn’t need people who can’t deal with everyday stress to get people killed overseas. They’d be nothing but a distraction!  These pansies probably can’t even handle gun fire!”

Yes, because the Transgendered are totally pansies compared to the big, strong, badass soldiers who are throwing a fit because someone wants to change their genitalia like bitches who get liposuction or lip implants, or breast implants.... Yes, the people who are transgendered are in no way prepared for stress, as the rest of the world berates them for being different and not adhering to the natural order preconceived in the minds of idiots who think they know everything.

It’s not like people who are Transgendered are sitting there judging others performance based on what’s between their legs instead of the merit of their work, like those soldiers i am referencing do. No, they’re not that weak.  I can’t help but think sometimes if I had stay in, would I be saying the same shit as these people or would I know better than to think that? Would this idea that genitalia and changing it, per say, really matter, considering women have been in combat for decades but we only got the authorization to join into it with our peers in mid-2000′s. You know, because they were worried about women, what was between our legs, rape, distracting the males, not being able to handle the gun fire--You know, the same shit they’re saying about Trans people.

How ironic...

It’s amazing how soldiers will sit there are talk about PC culture, “feelings”, and mental illness, treating all three subjects as what’s going to ruin the military, yet PC culture, “feelings” and mental illness were all attained because none of that existed in the military previously. 

I have the most indignant feeling that the soldiers who, whether active or out, suck the military’s dick seem to have forgotten that the military WILL abandon you in the end. If  you’re no longer useful, what use are you now? Do you not remember that there are vets that are homeless, that have no real method of food or drink, no shelters will take them, no job will give them a chance, largely ignored by everyone until someone mentions that Starbucks is hiring Muslims and all of a sudden, “THERE ARE HOMELESS VETS THAT NEED A JOB!” Those words come from people who ignored that Starbucks did the same with Veterans prior to this publicity stunt, but fuck it! Let’s use the Veterans as a method of emotional manipulation and control to make people feel bad for forgetting them for so long. Let’s get on Facebook and share this story, rather than find something to link you to that person.

Some of these soldiers I mention vaguely are the same type of people who believe that they are entitled to benefits because they served. Served? Sir and madam, this is duty. You signed a contract. Sure, you are entitled to those benefits, but don’t confuse what you earn with what you work for. Signing a contract means you have to work at the task/assignment for an amount of time to get and keep those benefits well after the work is done. Working at a regular civilian job is where you earn the benefits for as long as you have worked/will work there. A soldier can easily forget that difference.

These are the same ones who will say they don’t want to pay for others of less fortune’s health care. “Work for it,” they say, yet they do. Every month, every paycheck, no matter where the money comes from. Everything gets taxed, and the taxes get used somewhere. If only they would think of things from the perspective of the people they swore to defend. 

This is the reason we’re taught that Civilians are ranked at the highest.

Although, I have to also say, that the soldiers who are worried that a Trans person can’t handle a fire arm; Neither could you. All of us had to be (re)trained with our firearms because a military weapon fires differently than a civilian one. You know, “line up your sights”? Most civilians don’t need an extensive class on how to Zero their weapons, nor do they take a nail to readjust the sights DWN3, LFT6 just to move two squares down on the target. Nobody who joins the military can properly handle the rifles and weapons we use on the regular (Unless they’re a fanatic, but those tend to be quite rare. We had one, and I”m not sure if there’s another like him.)

To be worried someone can handle a weapon, when we’re all trained the exact same way, isn’t about worrying about if someone CAN handle a weapon, and I only say this because they used to say the same thing about us black folk. (To be fair, I’m not all over negro, but just enough for me to get away with saying nigga and I can cook.) The idea that someone’s training would fail them because they’re transgendered means that you want them to fail at it. It has nothing to do with how they’re trained, it’s who they are that pisses these soldiers off. 

If anything, these soldiers who produced and continue to spread this idea that it’s okay to tell someone they’re not worthy of dying with honor because, what? They take hormone pills and don’t have erections anymore? Because they decided that how they identify themselves is a vital part of their existence in this world, and they have to suffer the consequences by people who lack the self-awareness to even question it, or step in another person’s shoes? Because, despite all of the bullshit comments, the rude remarks of friends and family, the chances of discrimination and sucide is increased slightly by the mocking of ignorant people that surround them, they continue to be who they want to be? Because they decided that YOUR opinion of them is irrelevant and you can’t stand it?

Thank god, the soldiers who have never had anyone treat them like trash to the same extent as a transperson or a black person or even a woman (All whom they are experts on, they will tell you exactly why you are wrong and that you’re using make up information, when in reality they’ve never been to college or never grasped the concept and language of Academic theory.) on a regular basis to tell everyone how grateful they are (Feeling) that the military has decided to not allow anymore Transpeople entry into service (PC) and the chances of them getting genuine help is denied (Mental illness) because it would cause “supposedly” the tax payers to pay for it (Feeling).

Friendly reminder: Be more wary of your authority than your Battle. And stop using civilians as an excuse to justify your position. They said this shit back in 2000, They need to get the fuck over it. But then again, history repeats itself quite often, and everyone is playing the roles all over again. 

I wonder what will happen this iteration.