#do this horrible thing BECAUSE we're good people.

[libraryofbronze]

Honestly, this is the sort of thing that all of us who deal in dark kink one way or another have to deal with. I remember when I first started writing darker stuff - bondage, noncon fantasies, that sort of thing - I was genuinely haunted.

''Am I a bad person for writing this stuff? For enjoying it?''

It was made worse because I was writing what I liked. I remember trying to deal with it at first. A sheltered girl who felt the need to write hardcore stuff as a way to cope with the world while worrying that this made her a bad person. In a sense, I suppose that worry was a good thing? it made me examine myself. I introspected a lot. I actually thought out what I was doing and why I did it, and the conclusions I reached I still hold to this day.

Fantasy is fantasy. It's human nature to be attracted to the extreme, drawn to the abyss. We're like moths to a flame in a way. We know that in reality, what we dream of would be horrible. It would hurt people, it would destroy lives. But there is a part of us drawn to the *fantasy* of it. To the game of it. Just so long as we know we can put that game down at the end of the day and come back to a world where everything makes sense.

Writers like me - I don't want to speak for you here since I am sure you have your own conclusions and feelings on the matter - we create fantasies. We weave forbidden tales. We satisfy the desire for dark things in a safe way. I won't say that we don't walk a thin line. We absolutely do. People can consume what we create in an unhealthy way. We need to be aware of that. We have to hold it in our minds.

But we can also help people.

Some people - many people - deal with their traumas, their fears, their worries about the future with sex. The most basic example of that is the classic BDSM surrender thing. Where a sub just wants to surrender, to let their guard down, to *not worry* for an hour or so and relax into a world where they're taken care of and they don't have to make decisions. For them, the lack of control isn't a punishment, it's a release. And they have the right to experience this. For some of them, it's the only release they get.

But it goes further than this. Sometimes for people who face prejudice and bigotry in real life, whose lives might very well be in danger and who face suffering for who they are, fantasies like this are a safe way to engage and cope with those facts. This is true both now and in the past. During World War 2, Nazi porn was massive among people who could be targeted by the Nazis. You know why? Because if you take something scary, something terrifying, something that wants to hurt you and you make it sexy? In a sense, you're removing it's power. You're taking control. You're telling it that you won't be scared of it. You'll take it and use it as fuel.

That's also human nature, and it's something that many people - people who don't deal with it because they're lucky enough not to be threatened in that way - don't really get. They look at, for example, noncon fantasies and think it's about guys lusting after a world where they can just fuck a woman no matter if she wants it or not. There are some people like that, I won't lie. But there are also girls who use it to cope with a fear that they might one day *live* in that world. There are women who were forced into encounters like that and who use stories to contextualise their experiences and reclaim their power and control.

There are trans girls who write and get off to stories focused on transphobia and misgendering, not because they're self-hating but because those are things they deal with every day and they need a release.

And these days, as things skew more and more towards the worse in the real world, releases like this are only going to become more important.

tldr, humans when given the choice will usually choose horny over scary. A lot of people are having to make that choice right now. Dark kink like the sort of thing we produce can be a release for those who desperately need it. Also, apologies for spinning off your post into one of my own. It got me thinking and I wanted to put my work words to it.

Kink in the Hard Era

I got a message recently. It succinctly told me to end my life. Interesting how we can do that in three letters!

Normally, I ignore such missives. This time, however, I engaged. I asked why I should die.

The answer was simple: "you're a misogynist loser".

And you know what...? I get it. I do. This kink, involving power, mind control, gender roles and all that good stuff is a lot less fun when reality seems to be turning fantasies into nightmares.

I trust that everyone here knows I'm not a misogynist, right-winger, complete asshat. But if you need to step back from my content, I absolutely understand. To be honest, I'm not conflict-free in my head about it.

My hope is to provide a place for play, for fantasy; a haven where we can explore power dynamics without the inherent malignancy of hierarchy. But, as stated in my bio: this is all fantasy. Always has been.

And if you are truly a misogynist, transphobe, racist or any other flavor of pond scum making the real lives of real people harder and more dangerous: kindly fuck off.

[faaun]

Jack Marsh (2005), Friendship Otherwise - Toward a Levinasian Description of Personal Friendship

[lovesodeepandwideandwell]

Sick again/the same time but longer

[rmorde]

Controversial opinion

Personally, I don't think it's bad writing that Gojo is being used as a tool by even his own students that it's disrespectful to his character because... I think that's the point?

This is horrific, awful, and terrible overall. It is dehumanizing. Even the characters in-universe say it so. We ARE supposed to be sickened by this. That's the whole idea!

The story is, again, telling us just how bad and shitty jujutsu society is. Yes! We should be angry and upset about this. Gojo didn't deserve to be a tool for all his life and even after death. His students didn't deserve to resort to such depraved methods just to have a hope of winning against Sukuna. Yuji didn't deserve to lose another brother. Yuta didn't deserve to be forced to use his savior's body. EVERY ONE OF THEM DESERVED BETTER.

But the world they live in is cruel. Change is happening but they still have a long way to go to a brighter future.

Omfg. This chapter is heavy in an entirely different way than 259. I'm still grieving for Choso. But, 261 made me so sick. It's just horrific and awful for everyone - especially for Yuta AND Yuji!

Holy shit. Yuji may have been kept in the dark about this plan because of his link to Sukuna! How sickening and heart wrenching must this be for him? Believing that Gojo is back - he's okay because he's the Strongest and now they'll fight together! But no... it's Yuta. Just... Yuji doesn't need anymore pain. Damn it.

On a very thin silver lining tho, Gojo showing vulnerability to his students. Wishing for them to leave him as he kills the Elders. He doesn't want to tarnish his goofy ass cringe fail cool mentor figure image to them. He doesn't want them to see him as a bloodthirsty monster.

However, they stood by him. Never leaving him alone. Not that it reached him tho because he's so deep in his depression and fucking separates himself from them like gdi Gojo you fuck!!! They're reaching out to you, you idiot! Fucking listen to them BUT NOOO IT HAS TO BE SUKUNA OR GETO THAT CAN ONLY GO THROUGH YOU HUH?!

[adore-gregor]

Lol I keep on doing this, saying I'd come back to tumblr to only disappear again 😂😭

[katamarigender]

crushing a can against my forehead talking to this person grAH

[pulchrasilva]

Having people you care about who are suicidal while you're not suicidal is truly a special torture I think I want to go back to wanting to kill myself im gonna throw up

[stillfruit]

the most difficult part about group projects is not doing everything yourself

[avatar-of-the-web]

Mentally & emotionally I am trapped here.

[v-arbellanaris]

i think the problem (?) is that the only kind of (fictional?) love that interests me is the kind of love that changes the world. the kind of love that derails the narrative, the kind of love that changes everything -- not necessarily by how special or unique the love is but by the very mundanity of it. the love that grows, not in spite of the barren lovelessness of Before, but out of it. i think that's why I'm always so invested in ships that are two people diametrically opposed to each other, or enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, or two people on separate sides of the morality issue coin, because i love it when love... not that it changes a person but it allows the person to Become. the space, the grace, to change. to love the monster, to love the unlovable and the intolerable, is to make it something other than a monster, than unlovable, than intolerable. i love it when being loved at your worst, ugliest, most horrible self is what makes you want to be someone worth loving. like is this ANYTHING to anyone or

[neraiutsuze]

“It was much better to imagine men in some smokey room somewhere, made mad and cynical by privilege and power, plotting over brandy. You had to cling to this sort of image, because if you didn't then you might have to face the fact that bad things happened because ordinary people, the kind who brushed the dog and told the children bed time stories, were capable of then going out and doing horrible things to other ordinary people. It was so much easier to blame it on Them. It was bleakly depressing to think that They were Us. If it was Them, then nothing was anyone's fault. If it was Us, then what did that make Me? After all, I'm one of Us. I must be. I've certainly never thought of myself as one of Them. No one ever thinks of themselves as one of Them. We're always one of Us. It's Them that do the bad things.”

― Terry Pratchett, Jingo

i wish ppl on this website, and within leftist circles in general, were a little less gung ho about making jokes or statements like "billionaires arent people" "nazis arent people" "police arent people"

there is no level of evil where a human stops being a human. if you decide to kill them for their crimes, then you are killing a human. and sometimes that is justified! oil execs and war profiteers have destroyed countless lives in service of their own sick greed, and given the chance to enact that same violence on them, id probably pop their heads like a pimple.

but it is important that we do not shy away from the reality of that choice. it is a human life that is being ended. a person with interiority, feelings, family.

if we stop considering any group as people, even a group defined by their own evil actions, then we are drawing a line to divide society into persons and non-persons, and stating that those non-persons do not deserve to live.

i hope i dont need to explain why that is a dangerous position to take.

these people and all of their evil, their greed, their hatred, are just as much a part of humanity as art, culture, language, food. they are a part of us that has grown malignant and cancerous, and like a cancer, they must be excised for the sake of the whole--but they are still a part of us, made of the same stuff as us, down to their cores.

evil humans are still humans.

[argentconflagration]

when the subject of "why do people believe things that are seriously wrong and harmful" comes up it feels like you kinda hear one of two perspectives:

"oh, that's easy! it's because they're fundamentally Bad people who want to hurt others and choose their beliefs to justify that! :) hope this helps"

or

"they just don't have access to the same information we do. look at this person who was raised in a cult! don't you feel sorry for her?"

and like, yes, fine, some people were in fact raised in cults, but what i wish people would understand is that the bulk of it is just normal human flaws, like:

they want to believe stuff that makes them feel smart and cool and like they've figured everything out (you also do this)

they want to believe stuff that makes them feel like their emotions are justified and grounded in reality, and that the people they want to hurt deserve to be hurt (you also do this)

they form conclusions before they've processed all the relevant information, and cling to that first impression even when new info comes to light (you also do this)

they pick up beliefs from the people around them because they want to be liked and fit in, not because the beliefs are good or true (you also do this)

they come up with reasons that the stuff that benefits them (and the people they like and identify with) is actually overwhelmingly best for everyone and obviously the right thing to do (you also do this)

they pay more attention to stuff that supports what they already believe and avoid looking in places that might show them otherwise (you also do this)

they listen to people who talk like 'one of them' and ignore others (you also do this)

they come up with reasons to dismiss people with conflicting viewpoints as obviously in bad faith or ignorant or a shill or evil (you also do this)

they fail to take their own beliefs seriously sometimes, and take their beliefs way too seriously other times, in a selective way that lets them do the things they already wanted to do (you also do this)

the very ways they construct the ideas of 'knowledge' and 'wisdom' and 'belief' and 'understanding' are biased so that what they don't want to believe comes under lots of scrutiny and what they do want to believe receives less (you also do this)

you, dear reader, are presumably right about everything and were correct to die on every hill you've ever died on, but the difference between you and someone who's wrong about important stuff doesn't look like "well they're inherently evil and i'm not", it probably looks like a combination of:

natural environment (they would have been exposed to different information than you regardless of their choices)

being in the right place at the right time (your particular profile of flaws and virtues happened to be what was needed to lead you to the right conclusions, they had the opposite experience)

random luck (you doubled down on what felt right to believe but wasn't, but it turned out to be inconsequential, or even right for different reasons, while they doubled down on what turned out to be a horrible mistake distorting their entire worldview)

you do less of the things in the previous list, and over time the difference between you and them adds up

and, look, i also do these things. the nicest and most thoughtful people i've ever met do these things. if you meet someone who never does any of these things, i dunno, give them a fucking medal or something.

i know you're doing your best. we're all doing our best.

[m0ther-of-p3arl]

at this point i will fully just be blocking anyone who says they're voting third party idk how to get it into your brains that by voting third party YOU ARE VOTING FOR DONALD TRUMP. if he wins, you're not getting another chance to vote, you're not getting another election, because he WILL become the dictator. he has smart people behind him, horrible people, but people who know what they're doing and know how to manipulate laws and twist them in ways where trump can do whatever he wants.

if you are voting third party, you are taking away our one chance at winning this thing.

kamala harris is a good candidate. she is the most pro-palestinian candidate we are EVER going to get who actually has a shot at winning this thing. she's a black and south-asian woman who understand the struggles that minorities face and does her best to fix them. she is smart, she is pro-abortion, she is literally the most liberal candidate we will EVER HAVE who has a remote chance at winning. she has a positive stance on lgbtq+ rights and worked to make sure the gay and trans panic defense was removed. she protected children and women and people of all kinds who were sexually assaulted. she made it so that children who were SEX TRAFFICKED wouldn't be prosecuted for BEING TRAFFICKED.

she is a good candidate. hell, she's a GREAT candidate. she's leagues better than biden, at this point i honestly don't know what you all are hoping for. we are never going to get the hyper-liberal, massively far left candidate some of you seem to be hoping for. that's just not a possibility: this is politics. you can't appeal to that tiny corner of the population and still hope to win. i wish you could, but that's just now how it works at this moment in time. kamala harris might be the best presidential candidate in the history of the united states.

and even if she wasn't: have you forgotten what 2016-2020 was like?! have you forgotten who we're fighting against?! because donald trump is a nightmare scenario. he is literally the opposite of everything that liberals and far-left people like myself stand for. when bush was running against al gore, the only reason that there was even a supreme court case that appointed bush was because too many people voted third party. you can't do that shit. i wish you could, i wish we had more options, but we just fucking don't.

so, yeah: come november, go out and vote, and when you do, vote for kamala harris. vote for her so we don't lose everything that we as liberals are fighting for, vote for her for those of us who are too young, vote for her for the best-case scenario that the palestinian people will ever have in this current political climate.

please. please, please vote harris. it's the only option atp.

(i will not be doing discourse in the replies or reblogs. don't even try it.)

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 17

Somewhere in the back of Bruce’s mind, there a voice that was grateful that no one Bruce had slept with had experimented on their own child. With Talia and himself there were already lines that had been crossed, but what Danny had been through was another level of horrible. Which is why that tiny voice didn’t mater.

This wasn’t about Bruce, this was about Danny. Danny who looked ready to bolt again. Bruce reached out and placed his hand on Danny’s still cold cheek.

“Danny, being my clone doesn’t make being my son any less true.”

“That’s not—” Danny’s eyes welled with tears again and he leaned into the touch even as his foot scooted backwards. “That’s not how it works.”

“It does for us. Our family is messy. It’s complicated and confusing and… wonderful,” Bruce said. He spoke slowly both so that his words were clear, but also so that he could find the right words. “It’s a butler and orphans, assassins and demi-gods, sons and daughters and sometimes people who are neither. You being a clone is just one more thing in that mix. You’re still my son, if you’d like to be.”

“You can’t want me, I’m dead,” Danny insisted.

Jason set a pot down, loud enough that Danny’s eyes flickered to him.

“Kid, Danny, that doesn’t mater,” Jason said in a carefully controlled tone. “It’s the same as I’ve said before, they all know I died.”

Danny’s eyes widened, causing the tears to sleep free. He blinked rapidly.

“…Oh.”

-

They’re sat around the living room, each with their own mug of hot chocolate, even Bruce Wayne— even… well, Danny supposed it would be Tim Drake-Wayne, once he had shown up. He had flown through the door as he spoke through gulped breaths of air. He didn’t have a domino on either. They all sipped slowly at their drinks.

They were waiting for him to talk.

Talking seemed an insurmountable challenge.

Danny took another sip of the hot chocolate and licked the sugar sprinkle bat from his lips. He didn’t look at them as he spoke.

“Dick Grayson, Jason Wayne, Tim Drake-Wyane. Cassandra Wayne… Duke Thomas, and Damian Wayne. I don’t know Spoiler or Oracle. I only… I looked up Bruce Wayne on a library computer after I ran. That’s why I know.”

“Close friends of the family,” Mr. Wayne said.

“And ex-girlfriends,” Night— Dick spoke up.

“Right. Red— Tim said him and Spoiler had dated.” Danny mumbled. He glanced over at Hood from under his bangs. Hood… Jason? Hood. Too many changes. Hood hadn’t said anything since he had revealed everything.

He must have noticed Danny looking though, because he sent a melancholy smile Danny’s way. “I get it. We kept a really huge piece of information from you, but we didn’t lie. When we said you had us no matter what Bruce Wayne did, we meant it.”

“But he’s your dad.”

“And that means we're all very good at not listening to him,” Tim said proudly.

Mr. Wayne just gave an amused snort at that.

“Dandelion,” Hood said, ignoring his family, “the first time that you looked up at Red and I we both clocked who you were instantly.”

“Not the clone part,” Red added.

This time it was Danny who gave a little snort.

(Fuck, they even snorted the same.)

Hood just flicked Red off. Tim. “Sure, not the clone part.”

“Because someone wouldn’t let me take DNA,” Tim interrupted again.

“It’s corrupted anyways,” Danny said and suddenly all eyes were on him again. He ducked his head down into a shrug. “From my death. This form I guess it would match enough? But my ghost form wouldn’t be any help.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Tim said softly. “But also Hood was right, you didn’t deserve us doing that to you right then, even if I just wanted to help. But that doesn’t mean we didn’t know that you came from Bruce. You just came from him in a different way than we thought.”

“You were family right away, kid,” Hood said. “If didn’t matter your name or pronouns or history or if you’ve died or even that you’re a clone. As soon as we got a good look at you, you were family.”

Danny could feel the tears coming again and he wiped at his eyes in frustration. He wanted to just stop crying today.

“You could have been wrong,” Danny said. They didn’t get it, why didn’t they get it?

“Could have. But you were still a hurt kid that needed help,” Hood said.

“You don’t need blood to be family,” Dick said. “Me and Jason and Tim and Cass and Duke… Alfred, none of have blood with each other or Bruce and Damian. If you had turned out to not be related to Bruce at all? Well, you were already family.”

The tears came now and Danny couldn’t stop them. The hot chocolate was taken carefully from his hands by Jason while Dick pulled him into a hug.

“I don’t— I don’t get it,” Danny said through the sobs. “Why can you all— why can you all love me after a month when they— when my— when the people that were supposed to be my parents never did?”

“Danny—”

“They killed me!” Danny roared. He was shaking now and Dick help him tighter. “They made me just to kill me and cut me into pieces! I was their son! I was…. I was their son. Why couldn’t they love me?”

Between one blink and the next Mr. Wayne was up from his chair and in front of Danny. His large hand was so warm on Danny’s cheek. Danny sobbed harder.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, I don’t know because you are so loveable. It’s something wrong with them, not with you. I already know you’re wonderful and I can’t wait to get to know you more.”

Danny didn’t get it.

Danny didn’t believe it yet.

But god did Danny want it.

Danny flung himself forwards, landing in the arms that were waiting to catch him, and let himself cry.

-

“Nose bleed stopped and he’s resting now. Jay is staying in there with him in case he wakes,” Dick said as he closed the door to Danny’s bedroom softly behind him. A sad, wet blue lump was in his other hand. “We’ll try to get his bear dried out, it was in the bag he took.”

“See if the dryer has an air dry setting,” Bruce said. When both sons in the room looked at him in surprise he just gave a little shrug. “Dickie used to play with Zitka outside all the time. I learned to help make sure she was always ready for bed.”

Dickie gave a little laugh. It was heavily tinged with stress, but it was a laugh. Bruce would take what he could get right then. Jay still had a job, so he’d be alright for now. Dick would need to stay busy and close to people, but both those would do most of the work for the moment. It was Tim that Bruce had to worry about the moment; he was being very silent.

“Tim, chum, are you done with your drink?”

Tim blinked up from staring down at said drink. “What?”

Bruce crouched down in front of Tim (trying not to think of how he crouched down in front of a sobbing Danny just a bit ago) and took the mug. “What are you turning over in that head of yours, chum?”

Tim fiddled with his nails now that the mug was out of his hands. Bruce wouldn’t stop it unless Tim managed to make himself bleed. It wouldn’t be the first time or the last.

“Sweetheart?”

“It’s going to take him a long time to believe us— this,” Tim said, the words almost a rush.

Bruce nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”

“And he could run again,” Tim continued, still speaking quickly. “It could all be going well and then suddenly he could be thinking of running again because he’s doubting things.”

“Okay Tim,” Bruce said with careful words. His mind was running through all the times when Tim had pulled away from the family, “what do you think we can do to help that?”

Tim shrugged and looked away. “I guess— I mean, saying things to him is good but it won’t get as far as actions. And those actions need to include making him feeling useful.”

“But—” Dick started, the dryer now rumbling away in the linen closet.

“I’m not saying make him do work,” Tim interrupted. “But until he can consistently believe that we want him in the family, him feeling useful will help give him a reason to stay. As long as he’s useful, he won’t think that there’s no reason for him to stay when he thinks no one wants him around.”

Gently, Bruce reached out and took Tim’s hand away from where his cuticle had started to split and bleed. He pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at the spot gently. “We’ll make sure to offer him ways to help out. We’ll talk as a family about where the lines will be and what sort of work is alright, especially as Danny is still healing.”

Tim took a careful breath and nodded. “Good.”

“And Tim?” Bruce waited until Tim was looking at him to continue. “I love you and I’m very glad that you are part of this family.”

-

Bruce sent Dick back to the manor after Cass arrived. They talked about what was best and agreed together that for Danny, Bruce still needed to be here in the morning. Bruce knew Dick hated to leave, but he was the other one who could handle Damian and whatever moods this may have invoked. And they were both worried about pulling Jason away from Danny right then.

Once Dick had wrangled Damian, they all had a meeting. Jason joined in with headphones Tim delivered and stayed mostly silent. Alfred lingered behind Dick’s shoulder.

Bruce went over the day, doing his best to treat it like a debrief just so that he could get through it without his heart breaking the rest of the way.

Danny had run of his own volition, afraid that those who had hurt him would find them. He was most afraid of them hurting Jason and Damian. (Dick pulled Damian close). He wasn’t Bruce’s son, biologically speaking, but his clone. They would try, with permission, to take some blood and analyze it soon. There were worries about the state of Danny’s DNA that Bruce wanted them to look into, for Danny’s safety.

There was worry any tests might set Danny off.

Danny knew about their identities, though they did not share Stephanie and Barbara’s name— both girls gave their go ahead. He seemed confused, but alright. They had to be ready for a possible out burst over it later after everything that had sunk in.

They would be sure to give Danny things to do that made him a quick part of the family, Bruce wanted everyone to think what those would be. There was to be nothing that was patrolling or anything dangerous. They would all agree on the list.

When Bruce ran out of things to say, Alfred stepped forward, there as always to help with the next step. “Is there anything specific I should prepare for his room?”

“Blue,” Cass suggested.

“Stars,” Tim said from where he was tucked into Cass’ side. “He likes space. Maybe one of those projectors that turns the ceiling into the night sky?”

“Soft blankets,” Jason spoke, a quiet addition.

“An air diffuser, natural scents like flowers and earth,” Dick chimed in.

“A… a pet,” Damian said, words uncharacteristically hesitant, though he straightened up defiantly at the look of confusion on everyone’s face. “If he is a flight risk, then a pet will be something he stays for. It will also be a responsibility for him that is little effort and not dangerous. Also, when he needs company but the family is… overwhelming, his pet will be there for him. There are many cats and some suitable dogsat the shelter right now, I will take him.”

Bruce’s mouth twitched up in a little smile. “That’s a very good idea, thank you. I’m sure Danny would like your help, after we introduce you two properly.”

Damian nodded, though that slight uncertainty was still there in the curve of his shoulders.

“Dami?” Dick prompted.

“When will I be able to meet him? Properly.”

“How about in a few days, before we move him to the manor, I’ll bring you over with me, okay ayouni? We can bring lunch with us and have a meal together,” Bruce offered.

Damian nodded sharply, a slight smile on his lips. “Acceptable.”

“Good. We will try to have everyone over before we move Danny, which will be mostly on his timetable. For now, everyone get some rest.”

There was a chime of voices agreeing to that and signing off. Bruce made sure he was the last to leave the call.

---

AN: It's... mmm... not great day, so you all are getting this now instead of tomorrow when ao3 updates. Stay delightful, darlings <3

[andhumanslovedstories]

The constant thing on nursing as a profession on this website is getting kind of exhausting to me. I am so truly sorry that people have had negative experiences with nurses and they absolutely do not deserve that. But it’s such a massive profession with such a huge diversity of people and practices and people paint it in such broad strokes and it’s starting to kind of hurt my feelings :/ Thoughts? Am I just being a baby/does this ever bother you?

Honestly the constant negativity I saw towards nursing was why I started writing about nursing so much more. It's not that I think that negativity is incorrect--people HAVE had horrible experiences with nursing, some nurses do abuse their power, and that even without abusing power it is easy to hurt a patient. I seek out and appreciate those accounts, people should share those, people have every right to talk about their experiences. But if we're being human about it, yeah, it does bother me to see posts that call me and everyone I work with mean girls. I don't think those posts shouldn't exist, and at the same time, it is frustrating that it seems to be the dominant narrative about nurses in the particular parts of the internet where I spend time.

A big annoyance to me is that SO MANY CRITICISM of nursing is gendered! We're catty, we're bitches, we're mean girls, we're "the female versions of cops" like there aren't female cops and male nurses. And frankly, the worst nurses I have worked with have overwhelming been men. To be clear and to state the obvious, many male nurses are good at their job. We also know that female-dominated professions get valued less than male-dominated, and that men in those fields disproportionately get leadership positions.

And I've listened to patient complaints about some nurses who, sure, may have had a bad interaction with the patient, but who I KNOW are superb, brilliant, and compassionate professionals. They're also women of color who don't smile.

Nurses are the tip of the spear, as people talking about med errors love to say. Nurses are at the bedside, present and available to be mad at. We wake you up for vitals at 4 am, enforce fluid restrictions, tell you there's no more pain meds, and take ten minutes answering your call light when you desperately need to pee. Nurses are very accessible to be mad at.

There's weirdness about the perception of nurses in general. We're angels, we're heroes, we do stuff that no one else could, we're caregivers, we're nurturers, we're miracle workers, we're the people in the hospital who do "the real work*," this work is our calling, and this work is exclusively wiping butts and hand out pills. And by the way, wiping butts is degrading work. That's why we're angels. A guy shook my hand in the grocery store today because I told him I was a nurse. That's wild. Fun to be a mean girl angel cop hero.

(*untrue. you could not pay me a billion dollars to do the work doctors, surgeons, PTs/OTs, lab techs, social workers, pharmacists, and a thousand other specialized and often much less visible professions do.)

[natalieironside]

I'm gonna start talking about shit like Honor(tm) and Reputation(tm) now because every time I try to suggest we maybe stop saying horrible things to people for no good reason, somebody always hits back with a complex consequentialist argument for why it's actually totally morally justified when they tell sexual minorities to kill themselves, so how about this: Every time you DM someone "kys" you are doing incalculable damage to your kleos, and if we're mutuals then that's going to damage my kleos, and kleos is the only immortality available to we who dwell not upon Olympus. Girl your shifgrethor is in shambles.