#so i asked if the people in our family chose to be gay and she said my uncle was gay bc he didn't have a male presence in his life

[stabbingandorbeingstabbed]

well it finally happened lads i got in another argument abt lgbt rights with my mom and ended up coming out as bisexual happy pride LMAO

#like she said she had her suspicions and that it doesn't change anything and i believe her #but i felt the need to do it bc she is under the impression that lgbt rights aren't a civil rights issue bc gay people chose to be gay #so i asked if the people in our family chose to be gay and she said my uncle was gay bc he didn't have a male presence in his life #and my cousin was a lesbian due to past trauma #so i had to be like okay well i'm bi and it's not due to either of those things so like. what now #it wasn't a productive arguement really but i still always feel the need to get my point across and be understood #even if we end up disagreeing in the end. idk #anyways how is everyone LMAO

[randomsillyfangirl]

Oliver Otto x Reader

To start this off. Ik many people think that Oliver is gay, which is alright and people are allowed to think whatever they want! Me personally, I don't really give him a label. But I do think he likes girls, since he's shown much interest in them. I do not mean any harm with this post! If you do not like it- please just scroll away 💕

But anyway, again I will still be writing Pablo Gavi x Reader. I'm just watching American House Wives rn and am obsessed with Oliver lol

------------------------------------------------------------

You and your family just moved to WestPort. Your father was a famous author while your mom was the ceo of a famous book company- matched made in heaven. You were an only child, their only daughter. And in a whole new country.

In the first week of your family moving your mom and Katie became besties, your dad and Gregg became friends. But you? You felt so alone. Everyone else seemed to be snobby. You didn't like them- you weren't raised like a WestPort kid.

Your family was going to the Ottos house, they invited you to their home for a barbeque. " and young lady, you better not be on your phone or reading the whole time we're there! " your mother warned and you sighed, you really missed home and didn't wanna be around WestPort type people.

Thankfully the Ottos weren't those snobby WestPort people, but you still wanted to be alone. Taylor tried talking to you, and you two did have a conversation. " what sports are you into? " Taylor asked, but before you could respond Oliver started to insult his sister, " all sports are useless they're to get into college. You're just wasting your time. " he said and you rolled your eyes.

" actually, that's not true. What's more important is experience." you corrected him, when you made eye contact with him you had to hold back a smile, he's so cute.

Oliver was going to give you a response before Taylor stopped his comment. " you dress so... Let me dress you!! " she started to beg. You sighed and nodded, " mom, me and Taylor are going to our place to try on clothes." you told your mom, but Katie demanded that you bring Oliver too.

At your place, Taylor went through your closest. " you have really cute clothes! Why don't you wear them?" Taylor asked. " because WestPort kids don't." you sighed sitting on three bed. Oliver stood against the wall, looking around your room.

(See below for the outfit + hair Taylor chose for you)

When Oliver saw you, he smiled. Taylor noticed and her jaw dropped abit- Oliver wasn't being a bitch? What's going on!

Oliver coughed to signal to his sister to stop being weird. You smiled back at Oliver. " you're in my English, aren't you?" you asked looking at him. He nodded and chuckled, " don't forget, also in your biology." you nodded and laughed, " almost forgot."

Taylor went to ' go to the bathroom '- aka give you two some time to talk. " why'd you move to WestPort? You seem like you hate it. " Oliver asked. You sighed, " my parents wanted to expand their business from (your country) to the states too. And here, we can make connections. Everyone loves it here but me." you sighed again. Oliver sat next to you, " trust me. It gets better."

The next day at school, you wore another outfit Taylor recommend for you. (See pictures below) You didn't have any friends, so you walked in alone. You got alot of attention. You weren't wearing skinny jeans that cost $300 with some ugly expensive grandma sweater. You were wearing a Pinterest type outfit that probably cost you $20, excluding the shoes.

You were getting attention from the girls, more of them questioning you. But the boys? They liked your outfit. Yawning, you walked to your class, you could feel peoples eyes on you and you hated it.

Oliver watched you walk in. " isn't she pretty? " he heard one of the guys say and Oliver nodded. Cooper nudged his shoulder, " ceo and successful writers daughter right? Perfect for your mission. " he teased, but Oliver wasn't listening; all his focus was on you.

In English, it was a pair assignment. Cooper wasn't in his class, so nobody interrupted his plan to ask yo- who the hell is that? Some WestPort snobby guy was asking you to be his partner. " so darling, you do the work my dad will do m- " the guy was proposing his idea until you interrupted, " I'd rather get hit by a car." which seemed to annoy him. You looked over at Oliver and smiled, giving him the confidence to ask you to be his partner.

" You? Me? Working together? What do you think? " Oliver said sitting next to you. You smiled and nodded, " I'd like that. We can go to my place after school? Since I've been to yours already " you chuckled and he did as well, " I've always wondered what the house of a ceo and writer looks like. " he said making you laugh.

You lived in one of the larger houses in WestPort. Oliver was checking out the place, amazed, it was a gorgeous house. You sighed, " sorry it's not very fun.." . " it's amazing!! " Oliver basically screamed, hearing an echo. You shook your head but chuckled, " it looks nice.. But it's lonely " Oliver listened to your words, " yeah, like cooper.. " he said, sighing to keep talking " but hey, you'll make plenty of friends." he said smiling, making you smile.

You looked at him, " wanna see all the useless and expensive crap I have? " he nodded repeatedly, " umm yeah! " and his reaction made you laugh. Going into one room, " this is where my dad keeps these random glass statues. " going on into another, " my moms old coats, boringggg " and then finally, " my records and record players " you said, going into the room next to your room.

In your room, you two started your group project. Your project would last for half the school year- a massive school project.

But the two of you started to get really close during the time. He was your friend friend in WestPort, other than Taylor.

" so I was thinking, we hang out. My place. " Oliver proposed the idea to you. You nodded, " yeah sure, I'll bring the study stu- " you were saying until Oliver intrupred. " no no. No books. Just you and me. Hanging out." he clarified. You smiled and felt you cheeks go light red, " I'd like that." you told him, making him smile too.

You two went up to his room later that day. You sat on his bed, " sooo, what we doin?" you asked him. He looked at you, a little panicked, " what are we doing?" he repeated and you looked confused.

" you have no plan? "You said and then laughed at the lack of response. You weren't laughed at him, you were laughing because it was sweet. You got up," wanna see what we just got at my place? " and Oliver nodded, so you took him to your place to show him.

Your parents got in a massive library. You ran to one of the shelves, grabbing the ladder and climbing up, " there's a book in here that reminded me of you!!" you yelled, looking for the book. By ' reminded ' you meant ' I specifically asked for this book, to give to you. ' hey, that's how girls work.

You came back down to him with a book, before you could speak Oliver already took the words out of your mouth, " how did you know I wanted this book!? " well maybe not exactly what you'd say, just rearrange it.

You nodded, " thought you'd like it." you gave it to the brunette. " you can have it." And you both smiled. Oliver coughed, " I was wondering if tomorrow, you and me, alone, go out somewhere. No studying, but this time I'll have a plan.." he said, fidgeting with the corners of the book.

You smiled and nodded, " I'd like that.." Oliver was trying to ask you on a date, Taylor said that he should.. " she likes you! " Taylor yelled at Oliver. " but how do i ask her? If I ask her to go out- she'll assume it's got studying! " Oliver argued. Taylor laughed, " then ask her to go out alone, and mention no study. And people call me dumb." Taylor scoffed.

------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed!! <3

Ik this is all over the place- but I actually had fun writing this.

For the people who asked to be tagged in a oliver otto x reader post: @y4sm1nsstuff @animesimp3456 @hunterluvr

#american housewives #oliver otto x reader #oliver otto #literally I'm the only one who wanted this

[itsnatt09]

(Tw for self-harm and abuse)

I just had a really weird ask show up, and instead of airing it (because it implied both that we choose to be gay, and that trans people wouldn't be trans unless we were m*olested as children) I'm gonna talk a bit about my long journey with identity.

Even though I spent a lot of my childhood being pretty confused about myself, I didn't hear the word 'Transgender' until I was an adult in 2009. That year I also got my license suspended for underage drinking and had to move back with my parents for a year. At my parents urging I started going to church activities every week, which is where i met my now ex-wife. I spent 2011 until about 2016 slowly knowing that I was going to come out eventually, but i was doing it all in secret. What I was doing was in pretty stark contrast to my religious upbringing and all the pressure being placed on me to start being a husband, and the huge expectation to have kids.

It culminated in me wearing makeup to my old Home Depot job for about a month, and even though everyone there was pretty ok with it, my parents saw me one day. And the entire situation crashed around me. My parents and my ex let it be known that I was going to stop this forever or I'd be cut off from the family, that I'd be homeless and alone if I continued. They said what I was doing was against God.

And I was so scared I went along with it. Everything fem was thrown away. I shaved my head. I had a kid, even though I had some serious doubts that I would be a good parent. The next 4 years of my life was pretending to be the cis straight man my family wanted me to be.

And it's not a stretch to say that I was dying. I slept 3 hours a day. I went through periods of binge eating and then starving myself. I had a terrible temper. I started working a driving job and every time I got behind the wheel I thought about driving off a cliff. I gave up control of my finances. I let other people decide everything for me. I didn't get pleasure from anything in life at that point, not food or entertainment or even sex. The light was gone from my eyes, hidden behind a big beard and a flannel shirt.

It wasn't until summer 2021 that I couldn't take it anymore. I broke down in front of my ex-wife in a restaurant parking lot while our kid was asleep in the car. It was a 2-day fight where I was called hateful things I've never heard before, by someone who claimed to love me. But eventually she relented. We agreed the relationship between us was functionally over, and I still had an obligation to our son. I started looking for therapy the next day.

All that brings me to now. That ask was sent by an asshole, who doesn't know anything about my life and isn't gonna change their mind based on anything I say. But I do hope there are people who find this and think a little more positively about queer existence. You could say I 'chose to be trans' and you might be right in a way. I was always trans, but I chose to transition. Because the other option was death. I decide my life, not transphobes or my shit family or a shit interpretation of God. Me. Gay people, trans people, all of us *choose* to live in a way that makes us happy. That's it.

#asks open #asks #natalie answers #trans #lgbtq #lgbt #transgender #transisbeautiful #transfem #mtf trans #queer community #transition

[bengiyo]

Moonlight Chicken Ep 8 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

This brings us to the end of finale week, and I couldn't ask for a better show to close us out.

Yesterday, Alan opted to stay with his family instead of compelling Wen to take care of him. Also, Jim and Wen went on a cute date..Jam came to the house to tell Li Ming that she wants to remarry and also wants to be a mother to him now. Li Ming did not want any of this at all because they have never been close, she didn't raise him, and be doesn't want her making decisions for him.

Meanwhile, Jim accidentally outed Li Ming to his mom as Jim struggled with his own fears and insecurities about Li Ming. He and Jam had a not-great conversation about it, and so Jim went to talk to Wen about it. Wen gave Jim some perspective, and Jim gave Wen probably the best sniff kiss we've seen in a very long time.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Hong passed away, and we spent the back half of the episode on her funeral. Khaotung destroyed us with his performances, and the funeral opened up all of the characters to think about where they are. Li Ming and Jim reconciled. Jim cleared things with Alan, who met Gaipa at the funeral. Heart and his family came to the funeral. Jim finally decided to let go of the restaurant and set down his burdens.

We just started and I'm already crying! Jim feels so much lighter now that the restaurant and Li Ming aren't weighing him down. He's also finally acting like a gay uncle. He's helping guide Jam away from Li Ming and assuring her he'll help his nephew.

Chapter 8: The Self-made House and Home

It's such a relief to see Li Ming comfortable around Jim again.

Big fan of the "Person's for Men" hoodie.

I love Wen. I want to be this bold in love.

Fourth has incredible chemistry with Lookwa. I get why they paired them twice. Jam has had a messy romantic history her son has witnessed. I get why she values his approval.

There are so many people like Gaipa, who went on to get degrees that they don't necessarily get to use. I don't think they should be ashamed of the lives they've built.

I like that Wen and Gaipa never turned nasty with each other over Jim.

This party was so sweet. Saleng is being that cousin again. Li Ming taught Heart how to cut chicken. Wen made fuck-me eyes at Jim. Jim basked in the warmth of his little family.

I like how double-speak is a constant character trait of Alan's.

Heart's mom is really trying. I'm glad they told her about the school Heart wants to attend.

Heart and Li Ming are so adorable that it almost hurts. Fourth is all about kissing the homies.

I see Earth and Fourth aren't just gonna give me a break. "When did you know yourself?" is really the question. I don't mind Li Ming not answering, but the way he answers tells me he always knew about his uncle and chose to live with him because he didn't want to figure himself out with anyone else. I'm so glad Jim reiterated that there's nothing wrong with him, even as Li Ming gives the kid answer that getting money is more important.

That hug from behind? I think that was inspired by all of the GMMTV actors hugging Aof that way. Gosh, Fourth is really a special talent.

Big fan of this last minute complication in Wen's promotion.

The "Welcome Back Foam Fest" shirt is foreshadowing Tinn's fantasy in My School President.

First and Khaotung are so powerful. They sailed an entire ship in two scenes.

Kinda like the idea of Jim with a food truck.

Oh, I'm crying because of Mark Pakin again. Leng got the necklace back, and is working well enough that Praew can focus on carrying for their son, Jason.

Jim took Wen to meet his sister's new family and called him boyfriend. Wen is giddy in his seat over it.

I said this earlier, but Lookwa and Fourth work so well together. I like how she immediately tried to use sign to thank Heart. You can see her making the decision to get the money for Li Ming to go with Heart to America.

They really did the thing with Heart and Li Ming. I see why GMMTV greenlit them for Our Skyy 2 even before My School President released.

I really love how Aof's compassion and empathy infuses his characters. Yes, Jam was not a good mother to Li Ming, but she's trying to do right by him now. Life is the future, and she's doing what she can now to help Li Ming the way he wants to be helped.

They saw the shift in demeanor when Li Ming stopped being so angry and knew that Fourth and Gemini could carry a show.

I really love Alan joining their little family at the end here. Of course Saleng is going to tease Gaipa. I also like that Wen is learning sign language as well. What a beautiful final shot.

What a pleasant epilogue. Loved the metaphor about there being nothing wrong with the DVD, and rather it just being the player. You are still capable of love. You just need to try a different player.

Final Verdict: 10, Must Watch. This was Aof's best work so far with his best cast. This show managed all of its threads flawlessly without a single missed beat. Everyone is dialed in the entire time to tell a story about the families we build and the love we bring to our communities. In so many ways this feels like Aof in conversation with Boss from I Told Sunset About You. I have such high hopes for the future of queer storytelling out of Thailand after the last week.

#Moonlight Chicken #midnight series: moonlight chicken #moonlight chicken meta #thai bl #bl series #thai drama #backaof noppharnach #Ben watches

[demadogs]

Do you think Mike is already aware of his feelings?

yes!!! i totally do. the reason i believe this is because in s3 the majority of our byler evidence is technical cinematic choices like framing, blocking, color pallets, music, etc. but for s4 theres way more byler evidence that are directly from mikes behavior!!!

in other words, s3 queercoding had to be achieved through more film choices because he wasnt aware of his own feelings so his character didnt reveal that much to the audience. but in s4 a HUGE portion of our byler evidence is of mikes behavior towards both el and will, so he definitely became aware of his feelings some time within those 6 months apart from them.

———

in s3 these are what i think are the biggest byler evidence:

framing mike perfectly in the closet (this ones also a bit behavioral because he doesnt kiss her back, leaves his eyes open, and looks beyond confused after, but i think the framing is overwhelmingly the loudest thing here).

the huge difference in the aesthetic of the mlvn break up and bylers fight. they intentionally filmed mlvns as humorous, colorful, and unserious but for byler they had pouring rain, dark grays and blues, theyre alone, and emotional synth music plays after.

and consistently placing el alone and pairing up byler with the canon couples.

there is only one huge behavioral thing mike does in s3 that gives us a clue on what hes feelings and thats “its not my fault you dont like girls”. i think this was him subconsciously projecting but hes still unaware of his feelings or wills.

———

s4 byler evidence still has a lot of technical film choices, but we see WAY more evidence thats directly based on mikes behavior. he is well aware of his feelings and he doesnt know how to act around will or el because of them.

s4 mikes behavioral byler evidence:

the non hug at the airport.

there is NO reason for him to do this unless he is well aware of his feelings for will. he is terrified of being perceived as gay. this scene reminds me of the book the goldfinch where the main character who canonically has a lot of internalized homophobia refuses to hug goodbye his close family friends before he moves because it would “seem gay”. thats literally almost the exact situation here only its a greeting hug instead of a goodbye hug. that character later admits that hes in love with his best friend.

looking nervous when he asks about the painting.

i dont think people talk about this one enough. it was clearly art and mike has a whole binder of wills art at home. why wouldnt he be excited to see it? (because el told him its for a girl!!)

not calling will that much

why wouldnt he want to call his best friend since kindergarten who moved away? i think the ‘couple times’ will was referring to was before he realized his feelings and then he stopped calling him after he figured it out because he didnt want it to be true and he was trying to ignore his feelings.

“thats because shes my girlfriend will … we’re friends!! we’re friends.”

this one SCREAMS internalized homophobia. especially since will didnt imply anything romantic, mike interpreted it that way on his own. this one also goes hand and hand with the technical stuff because right after that line the track “in the closet (at rink o mania)” plays.

mike not telling el he loves her when its so blatantly clear thats all she wants to hear

if mike really loved her this argument wouldnt happen to begin with but the fact that it did and mike had the clearest opportunity to reassure el that he does love her and all he could get out was “youre being ridiculous. you know what i think of you. youre the most incredible person in the world.” yikes.

talking to will about that fight but not telling him “that thing” he couldnt say was that he loves her

he was comfortable enough telling will about the fight and that there was something he couldnt say but he blatantly chose not to tell him what that thing was. this one DEFINITELY tells me he is aware of his feelings. if he genuinely didnt know why he couldnt say it i think he would be comfortable asking will about it but he refused.

this

and this

so yes i think mike is well aware of his feelings bc his behavior is so strange and different in s4 than any other season. i think while he was away from both of them he realized that he missed el the way he was supposed to miss will and he missed will the way he was supposed to miss el. and that freaked him out a lot. and as finn has said, he is just trying really hard to be normal (and failing miserably).

#slay #byler #eden answers

[frasermints]

i wish it was legal for me to record the conversation i just had with the woman i'm housesitting for on wednesday.

she is, on all accounts, the most american conservative person i've ever met. evangelical zionist, trump 2024 voter, 2020 conspiracist, antivaxxer and covid denier. you name it, she believes in it.

i housesit for her because she pays well, she is a friend of a friend, and i need to get out of the house sometimes. i do not spend time with this woman willingly. she is not my friend. our relationship is strictly transactional.

i went over to her house tonight to meet her new rescue dog. he's recovering from surgery and is a bit aggressive so she wanted to get him used to me before it was just us.

when i walked in, she commented on my voice and my facial hair. i thought it was interesting but didn't make a big deal of it.

she asked if i was available christmas day as well. i told her no, it's the first year we aren't doing christmas with my mom's parents, and my mom needs me home this year. she asked me why, and i told her that they are frustrated with some life choices that i'm making. that my mom chose me and that you can only call her child "butchered and deformed" once before she calls it quits.

she didn't know i was trans until right then. she hugged me and told me she was sorry. that it's not fair for them to judge. that family is family no matter what. that my decisions are my decisions, and if i'm happy and healthy, that's all that matters.

this is the same woman that looked me in the eye within 20 minutes of our first meet and said that furries were indoctrinating our schoolchildren to becoming transgender otherkin. not even kidding. so. wasn't really expecting the hug or the kindness.

we continued to talk about it and various other things for the next three hours. she asked me about how my mom was handling things, about my support system, about my plans for college and my upcoming interview. she asked about the specifics of my top surgery (with permission; i preface all conversations like this with "i am an open book, but other queer people might not be") and about my legal name change.

we talked about people that transition partially, and about people that don't transition medically at all. we talked about straight couples and gay couples where one partner transition and stay together. we talked about sperm and egg preservation. we talked about he/him lesbians and she/her gays and transvestites and the grey area between trans women and drag queens and the history of the queer liberation movement. she didn't understand all of it, but she understood a lot. she related a ton of it to things she lived through, to movies she'd seen. the aids epidemic and birdcage and rupaul's drag race.

when i left she walked me out, hugged me at the end of the driveway, called me a strong young man (she caught herself before calling me a woman), and said she'd see me this weekend. and she called me jordan.

the short of it is this: if the most vehemently conservative, terrifyingly transphobic woman i know can call me jordan, can call me a man, can understand the (bare bones of the) queer liberation movement and intersecting and "conflicting" identities, even if she's coming at it from a place of "it's between you and God, it's not about me" -

why is it so hard for other queer people to do the same?

#my post #queer liberation

[abba-enthusiast]

Am I (65F) the asshole for refusing to pay for the wedding of son Tony (fake name 29M) and his fiancé Carl (19M) after we paid for the wedding of his younger brother Milo (22M) and his wife Julie (21F) last year. Last year when my younger son Milo got married, my soon-to-be ex husband and I paid $10,000 toward his wedding. He and his wife Julie had been dating since the end of freshman year of high school and we've known her family for even longer; they practically grew up together! And while I would never try to intentionally push my son's toward a specific partner, I'm glad her chose her. Their relationship is as healthy as can be and they're extremely compatible. Everything was going fine until 5 months ago when my older son Tony came to us asking us to contribute $10,000 to his wedding. We were taken aback as we had previously been unaware that he had a partner. We knew he was gay so his partner being male wasn't a shock; but what was a shock was the age of his partner. We initially told him we needed to hold off on deciding one way or another until we met his partner. We were introduced to Carl for the first time 6 weeks ago and it turns out that not only is he 10 years younger than my son, but they've been 'dating' 🤮 off and on for 4 years (keep in mind this would've meant that this guy was 15 and my son was 25)! When his father and I learned of this situation we immediately shut down any hope he had of us funding or taking any part in his wedding. When he asked why we both told him it was disgusting what he was doing and that he's lucky we didn't report him for this (he was also his fiancés English teacher).  I'm conflicted on if I'm handling this right.

My family is torn over this; some people think I'm the asshole for giving my son's unequal treatment due to their choice of partners while others think I'm not the asshole for standing my ground.

Edit 1: this has really blown up. So I wanted to add some things to clarify.

1. Yes Milo got another girl pregnant 2 months ago. His wife doesn't know yet, she's sterile due to childhood illness so this could be our only chance to have a biological grandchild.

2. Tony claims he and Carl haven't had sex yet and are waiting for the wedding night but I don't know if I believe them

3. Carl is a trans man (read: he used to be female) and his birth name is Carly.

Edit 2: gonna say this one last time

I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS OFFENSIVE TO ACKNOWLEDGE TRANS PEOPLE'S BIRTH NAMES!!!!!!!

Edit 3: one more thing about Tony

1. He and Carl have apparently both accused each other of domestic violence in the past.

Edit 4: OKAY LAST UPDATE AND THEN I'M MUTING NOTIFICATIONS ON THIS ACCOUNT.

I have not given anyone permission to share this story on other social media. Please stop putting it on tiktok, Instagram, and especially not Facebook. If you do this I'll sue! Also just to let everyone know; Julie got expelled from her school (a community college 🤮) and arrested and is facing time in prison time for harassing and cyberstalking this girl my son got pregnant.

Edit 5: both my son's and each of their partners have seen this post and both relationships have broken up. I hope you're all happy with destroying a healthy marriage of two soul mates because you care more about the ethics of monogamy than you do about carrying on a rare bloodline!

And I'm like yeah ESH. You're not an asshole in the way that I expected but you're still very much the asshole and probably an asshole in your everyday life from the sound of it. You're not the only one though. I'm pretty sure everyone here is an asshole except for maybe Carl. Tony for dating his own underage student (regardless of whether the relationship has been consummated or not). Milo for cheating on his own so called "soulmate". Julie for attacking a girl who her husband had impregnated instead of going after him; I'm not able to tell from this post but for all we know this other woman had no clue that he was married.

….. NTA i guess. But like. Barely.

(NTA for refusing to pay, everything else is. Yikes)

#and i thought MY family is dysfunctional #also i love how anon was like fucking sue me. I‘m sending this as an anon ask on tumblr what are you gonna do about it #aita

[strangesmallbard]

okay i just watched an episode of call the midwife that made me abruptly confront several grief-related traumas at once and i feel the need to talk about them, like make everything exist outside my head and join the human experience, or something. please feel no obligation to read this or respond but if you're going through The Grief yourself, know you're not alone.

tw for death, cancer, suicide, alcoholism

i lost three people in a year, and didn't really get to say goodbye to any of them, and that's like? fucked up doesn't describe it LMAO. i lost my grandma and a work supervisor in june 2019, and my dad at the very beginning of 2020. my grandma died in her sleep; she was 89, so it wasn't unexpected, just sudden. she was very anxious toward the end of her life and we didn't have many meaningful conversations. i wasn't medicated or grown up enough to have those conversations, and mostly i wish i'd validated her deep anxiety about death and her anger at her own body when it stopped working. right now i'm acutely grieving her house - it was sold a year later, and i don't think i'll ever forgive my uncle for that.

my supervisor died by suicide. we weren't very close, but he had a strangely large place in my life - he was previously my college professor several years before and i chose that school because of his work in particular. he was also the first out gay person i saw at my school during orientation, and that memory's always stayed with me as i formed a community there.

the last time i saw him was a work event the night before (opening night of a play - i worked at a theatre company.) we sat next to each other and i noticed he seemed sad, tired, or off. i was annoyed with him about a work-related thing that doesn't matter anymore, but i was still friendly because i always try to be friendly. i hoped he was alright. a few days later, my other supervisor told me what happened. he was a kind-hearted guy who was passionate about his work and changed many, many lives for the better. i think about him a lot.

my internship ended right after this without much fanfare or Unpacking. i just left a grieving community and dived right into my first gig, basically running on fumes lmao. my internship was very, very toxic, and i wouldn't realize it for another year. i didn't think about my grandma or my supervisor. i spent the whole summer wanting to call my supervisor and talk to her about what happened. she came to watch closing night of my play, and we didn't talk about what happened. the next day, i plunged into a Huge Depression involving an alcohol dependency and eight seasons of house md.

as i vaguely began to exit my depression, my dad was deadass. DEADASS. diagnosed with stage four lung cancer from smoking cigarettes. like omg. DUDE? the last time i saw my dad was at my grandma's funeral!!!! fucking on the nose. anyway. he was diagnosed in early december 2019, after seeing a doctor for back problems. the back problems were several tumors. everything happened very quickly. the last time i saw my dad alive was in a hospital parking garage on december 24, 2019. we hugged goodbye, but not Goodbye. he was in a rush to get home because he was sick from radiation treatment. i don't remember our last conversation at all.

my mom and i got the call he was dying after i schlepped her to urgent care for a separate medical issue. my mom was too zonked to get on a plane, so i went to the airport. five minutes after i got there, i learned he passed. it was very crowded. i canceled the ticket while crying, and i didn't explain why i was crying. my lyft driver asked if i had a good trip. this now strikes me as hilarious. i learned that his family let him know i was coming. this was likely the last thing he heard. i can't really sum up my dad in a sentence, but he was brave in his own way, a great storyteller, and loved me very much. i wish he realized we had a lot in common, and i wish we had more time. thanks for the adhd dad

anyway, guess what happened in march 2020! yeah shit's been weird. most days i'm honestly fine, and then i remember i designed my dad's headstone (it looks banging) and he'll never meet any kids i have. in three months it'll be three years since we last spoke and i hate that. i'm a very different person, and i've only become this person because three people in my life died in the same ten months. my mom's also been sick and it's a very particular kind of lonely. wow this was cathartic! if you made it here, i love you. if you didn't, i love you! feel my love telepathically! i am 65 years old in vibes, especially if you count the osteoarthritis. i am also maybe 3 or 4 years old and i want a nap and snacks and my stuffed animals, etc.

#yell.txt #death cw #suicide cw #genuinely hysterical that i can blaze this

[thepropertylovers]

In a Small Town Like Ours, Where Do We Fit In?

This past weekend, we went to our first birthday party for one of the kids’ friends. It was for Riah’s best friend in his class, a girl who was also in Pre-K with him and one he talks about all the time, the way that best friends do.

PJ felt exhausted from working on the farm earlier that morning, so it was me and the kids for the afternoon. Her parents said all of our kids could come, not just Riah, which was great because our other two wouldn’t stop asking if they could come all week. The best part? They live three streets over from us, so we were able to walk there and hang out for a few hours.

Since our children are so young, this was really our first…function? event? that we have been invited to outside of family invitations, and while I didn’t really dwell on this thought, it did cross my mind once or twice: How would we be received as the only gay couple at the party?

We knew how it would be raising kids here, especially since we grew up in this town. We’re used to being one of the only, if not the only same-sex family at basketball and soccer games, and school breakfasts and things like that. We’ve chosen to live our lives in a very unapologetic way, and have basically gotten to the point where if people don’t accept us, we don’t make space for them in our life.

Luckily, and I can’t stress that word enough, we haven’t encountered any homophobia while living here since we’ve been out. At school, everyone has been so welcoming and accepting of us and our family. At sporting games, I don’t feel anyone giving us side-eyes or judging us. Maybe it’s because we grew up here and it’s a small town and everyone knows everyone, but we feel we have a real sense of community in our town. The teachers and the parents feel like friends.

And it was no different at the party this past weekend. The kids were running in the yard, darting in and out of the house, eating pizza and cupcakes. The sun was shining but it wasn’t too hot, and I found myself on the front porch talking to some of the moms that I’ve come to get to know over the last year.

While we were there, I also met the birthday girl’s grandma, who shared something with me as we were about to leave that touched me. She told me our kids were so lucky to have the two best dads who loved them. I told her we were the lucky ones.

Little things like that have been happening more and more lately; people sharing things with us that surprise me, especially living here. Our mailman last week being among the most significant. Are these signs that things are finally changing? Are people becoming more accepting in small towns than we previously thought?

NPR reported that a recent study from the Movement Advancement Project, which is a think tank that advocates for LGBTQ+ equality, found that between 2.9 and 3.8 million LGBTQ people live in rural America, which is up to 5% of the rural population and up to 20% of the LGBTQ population.

They go on to say:

“For the most part, they chose that life for the same reasons other Americans do: tight-knit communities with a shared sense of values that typically revolve around places like the church, schools or local businesses.

Same-sex parents, like many other parents, also gravitate to life outside the cities. The report says that "the highest rates of parenting by both same-sex couples and LGBT individuals are in the most rural regions of the country." It points to data from The Williams Institute at the UCLA School of Law that says 24 out of the 30 states where same-sex couples are raising children are mostly rural in the Midwest, the South and the mountain regions of America.”

Isn’t that fascinating? While I believe there will most likely always be more work to be done, maybe things really are changing for the better in small towns like ours. I know how I feel being at school functions and I honestly feel safe and at ease. I never feel threatened or judge, and I hope that continues as the kids get older.

We all had a blast at the birthday party, and I think a big part of that was because of the parents who are raising their children to lead with love, kindness, and acceptance, especially towards those who may look different than their own family. In small, southern town like ours, where do we fit in?

The more I ask myself that question, the more I think about how it’s not necessarily about fitting in, but more about being treated with respect and acceptance, the same as everyone else. Who really wants to fit in anyway?

[xtruss]

I Don’t: My Very Modern Marriage!

Here Comes The Tax Break, or Why Getting Hitched should Be About Finance, Not Love

— By Anna Baddeley | Illustrations: Mari Fouzp

“You can hold hands if you want to.” We had arrived at the part in our ceremony where we had to parrot a legal declaration, and the registrar was clearly desperate to inject some romance into proceedings.

In June, my partner and I were bound together in the eyes of the British state. We didn’t get married though – we got a civil partnership, a type of union invented for gay couples in 2004 that was recently opened up to straight couples after a long campaign to change the law.

We had opted for a pared-down ceremony, with no guests apart from the two friends who were acting as our witnesses. The venue was Room 99, the cheapest space to get married at Islington Town Hall in north London.

“I’d rather not hold his hand,” I said. “Mine are too sweaty.” The registrar apologised, worried she had offended me. I hadn’t meant to make her feel awkward, but I’m one of those people who instinctively makes a joke when put in an uncomfortable situation. And I was keen for the ceremony to be as unromantic as possible. We were doing this not for love, but for tax.

Some Women grow up dreaming of a white wedding. I didn’t. My parents weren’t married when I was born, as was the norm at my primary school in east London. Then we moved to a small town in the countryside. My new school-friends were scandalised. A teacher who had assumed my parents were divorced was shocked to discover that they were still together: “But they’ve got different surnames!”

I’d Rather Not Hold His Hand, Mine Are Too Sweaty

My mum and dad got together in the early 1980s when it was cool to be anti-marriage, at least in lefty London circles. At that point most people bought into the idea that the engagement of the heir to the throne was the greatest love story ever told. Few seemed bothered by the prospect of a 20-year-old virgin marrying a man rumoured to be seeing another woman, and who, when asked if he was in love with his betrothed, said “whatever love means”. Spare Rib, a feminist magazine, sounded a rare note of dissent, giving away badges that read “Don’t do it Di!”

In 1989 a picture of my family appeared in a women’s magazine under the headline “Maternity without matrimony” – my parents had agreed to be interviewed about what was then still an unconventional lifestyle choice. “Whether they’re out on a shopping spree on a Saturday afternoon or queuing up to see the teacher at their elder daughter’s school open day,” the article begins, “Kate and George and their two small daughters, Anna and Natasha, look like any other normal family.”

When I was growing up, marriage seemed like a relic from another age. I assumed everyone else felt the same way and was slightly perturbed when my university friends started getting engaged. “But why?” I recall asking one of them. Marriage seemed so conservative, so anti-feminist (a father “giving away” his daughter to another man?) and, since it had become socially acceptable to have sex before it, rather unnecessary (unless you were very religious).

Staying together because you signed a contract also struck me as wholly unromantic. Goldie Hawn once said that she chose every day to be with Kurt Russell (together, but not married, for 37 years and counting). I thought that was lovely.

As for weddings, I could see why some people liked them but I hated being the centre of attention. I also hated wasting money. When the average deposit necessary to buy a flat in London is £50,000, it seems obscene to me that British couples typically spend more than £30,000 on a single day. No wonder they ask their friends and family to pay for their honeymoon, possibly the worst wedding trend of recent times.

The Social and Economic rationale behind marriage used to be clear: sanctified, legal reproduction; a business deal between two families. Now that the feudal backdrop has disappeared, people get married for more waffly reasons. For most millennials, it’s merely an excuse for a party.

I Was Keen For The Ceremony To Be As Unromantic As Possible

When marriage is seen purely as a celebration of love, the legal and financial benefits are obscured. I suspect few of my friends got married because of the tax breaks, but in Britain marriage can reduce your income-tax bill, capital-gains tax and the inheritance tax your children have to pay (you also get automatic status as the next of kin in times of crisis and the right to claim some of your spouse’s money if you break up).

Both in Britain and America marriage is increasingly confined to the moneyed middle-classes, perhaps because weddings are so expensive. Because marriage brings so much socio-economic clout, this increases the gap between the rich and the poor, unwed masses. Bridget Jones was right to moan about “smug marrieds”.

As I began to read the money pages of the newspaper and got more clued up, I wondered if my partner and I should grit our teeth and get hitched, especially once we became parents. But the cultural baggage of marriage, particularly its patriarchal roots, bothered us.

We wanted our relationship to be recognised in law. But we also wanted a modern, equal partnership, clean of assumptions about what a marriage should be and the inescapably gendered roles of husband and wife. Which is why a civil partnership appealed, particularly if the ceremony could be conducted quietly.

That heterosexual British couples can become civil partners is something of a legal accident, rooted in historical discrimination against gay people. Civil partnerships were drawn up to appease the bishops of the Church of England, who still get a say in British lawmaking, and who, in the 1990s at least, didn’t think gay people should be able to get married.

Civil partnerships gave gay couples more or less the same rights as marriage gave straight couples. But soon after civil partnerships were introduced, straight people wanted to get them too. Many countries already allowed heterosexual couples to ratify their relationship without getting married – in France, a contract known as pacs has long been a popular alternative to marriage.

When My University Friends Started Getting Engaged, I Asked Them Why

Over the years various attempts to expand the scope of civil partnerships in Britain failed. Making different provisions for heterosexual and gay people looked increasingly odd after the latter won the right to get married in 2014. Then, in 2018, a judge ruled that exempting straight couples from civil partnerships was illegal under equality law, forcing the government to support a change in the rules.

Opposite-sex couples have been able to become civil partners in Britain since December 31st 2019. I asked our registrar whether Islington Town Hall had seen an increase in footfall from marriage-avoiders. She said it had, mostly “mature couples” who wanted to get their affairs in order. I didn’t ask whether, on the wrong side of 35, we counted as one of them.

Despite my allergy to romance, I surprised myself by how much I enjoyed our moment of union. We weren’t going to tell anyone apart from our families but then decided that we might as well. Being congratulated is nice. And it has made my mother-in-law very happy. Is there still time to open a honeymoon fund? ■

— Anna Baddeley is a Eenior Editor of 1843 Magazine

#1843 Magazine #Modern Marriage #Anna Baddeley

[nosjericho]

A not so love poem

I want to write a love poem to my mom— but I don’t like her that much…

Those words rang true from the artist’s lips to my ears.

Straight shot down.

Into the pit of my stomach.

Why didn’t she love me?

And if she did, why was she so fuxking bad at it?

I see babies cradled in loving arms

I see grown adults laying in their mothers’ laps

Scratch my scalp

Hold my hand

Kiss my face

I was robbed

Without a gun

A knife

Or even just cause

Loving a child whole heartedly wasn’t in her cards

Any achievements

Were OURS at best

Never mine

Any trauma

Never happened

Swept under rugs

Place a coffee table

Over that pile

Nobody will know

And now

Now there’s a place for you to land

When I throw you

Down hallways

And across rooms

Into furniture

Walls that caught

And held me

More gingerly than she ever could

Corners

I whispered my truths to

Because she would just tell me

I’m lying

As though I had reason

To say that kindly old woman

You leave me with

Takes my clothes off

When she thinks I’m sleeping

Or

The teenage boy

In that family was not as “good with little kids “ as you thought

The truth would

Tear

at least THEIR

Family apart

You would just need to find new people to do drugs with

Dear mama

I’m sorry I don’t

Remember

Our time together

The way you do

I don’t remember

Our time together

At all

Excepting only

Flashes of violence

Straight jacket hugs

And the taste

Of bargain bin

Dish soap

I remember

I remember

Smallness

Feeling

Small

Physically

Being

Small

Why don’t I remember

Sitting down to eat

Together

Forever at the

Kids table

And I was

The only kid

While you

And your beverage

And whatever

Man you had

At the time

Sat

In a cloud of smoke

In front of the

Television

I could only

Listen

Aside from

Your stories

I don’t remember

Childhood tv

Unless we were away

With others

Only with

Others

I remember sneaking

And I remember

The tv that had an issue

That left a light beam

Across the screen

For twenty minutes

I remember

Trying to

Time

The twenty minutes

So I could watch

Tv and not

Feel so alone

The many hours

It would be

Before you

Got home

I was a child

Raising herself

In a minefield

I remember musicals

I remember singing

I remember books

I remember

Trying to

Tell myself

That was enough

Trying to

Stretch those

Few good moments

Like plastic wrap

Across

And over

Reality

Let it fog

With

Captured steam

And for a moment

Let it be enough

I remember solitude

And silent needs

I remember

Stifling cries

And wanting to die

No I wasn’t

Trying to

Burn the building down

The day I

Set our living room

Ablaze

I was just

Curious

And alone

I had a thing with fire

That year

Didn’t I

I remember

Creating a

Safe corner

Inside my closet

Because

My closet

Was the only

Door

I could open

Whenever I

Chose

I remember

You never had

Money

Until I was pregnant

And you wanted me

To abort

I remember

You had no idea

Where my dad was

Until

You sent me

To live with him

Effectively, a stranger

You’d only ever

Spoken ill of

I remember

You came to

My graduation

And I became

Someone else

I drank

Myself to black

But not before

Trying to fight

Some girl

About some boy

Whole time

I’m gay

I remember

My baby mama

Meeting that same

Me

When you came

To visit

“You were just — gone”

Thanks mom

I remember having to

Borrow money

For the rent

Because

I had it

But you asked me

For it

And PROMISED

you would

Get it to me

On time

I remember

Snapping that day

I remember telling you

To leave

And you did

And true

To fashion

You left a mess

In your wake

I remember

Seeing the

Discomfort

I knew in my soul

On my sons face

When you would

Hug him

I remember

Fighting with you

About his

Physical

Autonomy

It would seem

I remember

More

Than I thought

But still

Not enough

To write

A love poem

[riverdamien]

The Grandeur of God’s Love

The Grandeur of God's Love

The Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Gen. 3:9-15, 20; Ephesians 1:3-12; Luke 1:26-38

"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, just as he chose us in Christ, before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love.. according to the richness of his grace he lavished on us."

Recently there have been questions asked about what if I am injured or grow too, "old" to do my work and concerned about my future;  others have hammered me about the "evils" of Christianity and I acknowledge those evils, for some have been personal while others have made fun of my faith in Christ. In those questions and challenges, I see people projecting their struggles. It has been an interesting of weeks.

For me, it is the Jesus portrayed in the scripture above, that shines brightly through life. In my work, I am giving him gratitude for journeying with me in life. Jesus is pure love.

As I hung out with "Janet" several nights ago in her tent on Hemlock Alley I reflected on fears of illness and becoming elderly, for she is 70 years old, dying of cancer. She has no family, no health insurance, and except for her street friends is totally alone.

In fact, there are thousands of homeless people living without health insurance or any kind of support. They have no shelter. They grow old and simply die. After a time their bodies will be cremated and scattered at sea. There are millions who have good jobs and can not afford health insurance.

All of these are stories of life and death. Each one is infinitely precious in God's eyes. They call each one of us to see their pain and loneliness, as well as our own, and to walk with them.

In so doing we can live in the future knowing that by walking with our brothers and sisters our needs will be met. That is the Kingdom of God!  So strive for the Kingdom in your actions and attitude.

May you continue to offer others kindness, mercy, and welcome in ways they may not be offered to you.

May thoughts of loving kindness and inclusion be your first response always and everywhere. Amen. (Given by Jay Swanson)

Deo Gratias! Thanks be to God!

=====================================

One way I am striving for the Kingdom of God during December is by walking the "40 Mile Challenge" of the Trevor Project, which works with Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Questioning youth. You may donate through Trevor Project or send a donation to Temenos made for Trevor Project. Our goal is $500.00, and we have walked twenty miles.

===============

Fr. River Damien Sims, sfw, D.Min., D.S.T.

P.O. Box 642656

San Francisco, CA 94164

415-305-2124

www.temenos.org

[drmommible]

June 23, 2022: On the Eve of Dobbs

 I reckon that the Supreme Court decision in the Dobbs case may come down tomorrow. It might still be another week before we hear what the decision is. I feel like it will be tomorrow because it's the last day of the week and that Dobbs will be dropped after the SCOTUS has gotten away from the building and are under guard somewhere. At any rate, this is probably the biggest case, and the one where we stand to have the most to lose.

When I was growing up, my mother and I went to the Moline Gospel Temple in Moline, Illinois. It was a fundamentalist Christian church--speaking in tongues, scaring people into becoming a Christian to avoid what will happen after the rapture to the unbelievers. In fact, that was how I became a Christian--I was about the age of my kids, probably younger than their almost 8 years, and on one summer night, after we had stayed up late playing a game, my mother chose that night to inform me of what would happen: the rivers would run bloody being chief among the terrifying things she told me. She told me that if I asked Christ into my heart, I could avoid this. I remember being scared out of my wits, and crying and screaming into her shoulder, 'Tell me what to do!'

So I asked Christ into my heart. As a child, I didn't really understand what that meant, but I knew that I wanted to avoid going to hell and what would happen to the unbelievers. We started going to church every chance we got, and I learned a lot--too little of it involved God's love and loving your neighbor and taking care of the poor. It mostly involved people complaining about how other races were either coming to take jobs from America or milking our social safety nets. It involved talking about how gay people and abortion would bring destruction. And there was so much gossip--once I started going to school at the private K-12 school the church ran, I realized that my family was too poor to keep up with the fashion scene that involved Guess? jeans and Esprit brand fashion. I was made fun of for my writing gifts and talents.

It was, in retrospect, one of the most unChristlike environments I had ever been in.

I mention all of this because one of the biggest things that our church preached was being Pro-Life. Abortions were evil. You were killing a life, and if you had an abortion, you would most certainly be going to hell.

And I believed it for a long time. Until I had a time where I thought I might be pregnant and I took a 180 degree turn on it. Luckily, that time, I wasn't pregnant, but once I walked in that terrifying pair of shoes, I realized that Pro-Life was Anti-Choice.

Pro-Life could not be pro-life if it didn't care for the children who were here, the people here who were poor and in need. I realized that mostly the so called 'pro-life' movement cared only that the baby was carried to term, and then after that, they didn't care. They didn't want them to have help from the government--they should have thought about that before the girl spread her legs. They didn't want to subsidize anything to help people who were forced through situation to carry a baby to term. Don't these people matter? Or maybe it's about more than that?

On the possible eve of Dobbs, I never thought we would be here. I never thought I would live to see the end of Roe V Wade, and I never thought that my own children would have to go through their lives without Roe's protection. We already fought for this--and since Roe doesn't force people to have or not have an abortion--I don't see why we should have to fight it again.

The thing that makes me so upset about the possible end of Roe Vs. Wade is not that abortion is going to end. It won't ever end. People who have the ability to get pregnant will always find a way to get an abortion or end a pregnancy in another way. There will most certainly be more deaths, as there were in the time bofore Roe Vs. Wade was decided. Mostly, white people will be able to have abortions still. They might have to travel, do it in secret, pay more, but they will still have access.

The people that are going to suffer are the poor and mostly minority persons in this country for whom the closing of clinics, particularly of Planned Parenthood clinics, spelled the end of reproductive care and abortions.

Ironically, SCOTUS did decide this week that is it not up to the states to regulate guns. However, SCOTUS may leave abortion laws up to the states. I wonder what the difference is between those two things?

I don't want my body to be regulated. I don't want my children to have to live in a world where if they need to have abortion care (because abortions ARE health care) that they cannot get to it. It's not anyone's business why someone might need an abortion, but this is going to severely impact people who are going through later terms abortions (which are rarer than the anti-choice movement indicates) by not allowing people who could die from continuing a pregnancy to die. No D&C for those whose babies are wanted and planned for and named, but have severe health issues that won't make them compatible with life. And before anyone comes at me with stories where they were suggested to have abortions because their doctors thought their child would be incompatible with life--you got to make that choice for you and your family. It's always a choice. Just because when I was pregnant with my twins, and had I found out that one of them might have been deemed 'incompatible with life', that I might not have chosen abortion because it wasn't the choice I wanted to make doesn't mean that everyone else should make that exact same decision.

It should be between the pregnant person, their doctor and anyone else they choose to involve. No one else.

And tomorrow, it could all be taken away.

What's next?

Birth control.

Gay marriage.

LGBTQ+ people in general. No more protections of any kind.

If you think this is just about saving babies, you need to re-examine your beliefs.

I hope tomorrow (or whenever Dobbs drops), we get good news that Roe will still stand. But even if it does still stand, for how long?

Choice needs to stay the way it is. I don't want to have the government involved in my family planning. Do you?

[swanqueensalad]

taylor swift songs that are actually about swan queen: a comprehensive guide

hi no one asked for this but it wouldn’t stop haunting me until i wrote it down so here 

peace - ‘all these people think love’s for show but i would die for you in secret’ ??? ‘and you know that i’d swing with you for the fences, sit with you in the trenches, give you my wild, give you a child, give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other, family that i chose’ ???  ‘the devil’s in the details but you’ve got a friend in me - would it be enough if i could never give you peace?’ it’s. about. them.

ivy - because ‘i’d live and die for moments that we stole on begged and borrowed time’ and also ‘well god damn, my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand’ good LORD

the 1 - ‘but we were something, don’t you think so?’ ‘and if you wanted me you really should have showed, but it’s alright now’ ‘and if my wishes came true, it would have been you’ ‘the greatest films of our time were never made’ ouch

long live - i’m sad and nostalgic and sappy ok and ‘i had the time of my life fighting dragons with you’ 

mirrorball - regina mills is a mirrorball (think of cora ouch). actually so is emma swan trying to live up to being a hero. and ‘i’ll show you every version of yourself tonight’ indeed

the archer - hello it’s another song that’s somehow about both of them. but besides the obvious about them both separately ‘i’ve got a hundred thrown out speeches i almost said to you’  ‘dark side, i search for your dark side, but what if i’m alright right here?’ 

daylight - regina vibes for sure, emma is her daylight after all the awful things. ‘maybe i’ve stormed out of every single room in this town, threw out our cloaks and our daggers because it’s morning now, it’s brighter’ now. the last lil verse with gina in mind just slaughters me because she does just want to be defined by the things she loves now and not the things that haunt her 

illicit affairs - fun fact this song is actually about all gay relationships build on yearning. 

dress - i mean not really as much as some others but this is The secret yearning wlw song. so. that’s all. I DON’T WANT YOU LIKE A BEST FRIEND! ONLY BOUGHT THIS DRESS SO YOU COULD TAKE IT OFF! ‘all of the silence and patience, pining and anticipation, my hands are shaking from holding back from you’

the way i loved you - this is about h00k/r0bin vs emma/regina. enough said. this is actually also a song about comphet funnily enough

this love - maybe this one is a stretch but the whole theme of returning to the person you really love is very on brand for the two women who find each other in literally every fucking magical realm and curse they end up in and somehow come back together every time they’re torn apart. ‘

swan queen swiftie venn diagram middle girls where are you 

(also regina mills is 5000% big swiftie i dont make the rules just throwing that out there)

#i'm probably missing loads but like #treacherous??? #delicate?? #this is me trying?? #yuh i have too many to mentionnnn #miss taylor rly comes through for us sapphics huh #swan queen #nobody asked for this #swifties #regina mills #emma swan #swan mills family #sq

[elnotwoods]

For someone who didn’t vibe with parts 1 and 2 of episode 12 as much as I have hoped I would…

I must say that the ending we got is all that could have asked for.

Pat and Pran happy, living their lives and building each other up. Supporting each other, being there for each other while still being so disgustingly in love it’s unreal.

I know I felt a bit disheartened while watching live because I felt that the first two parts just took too much time away from other things but you know what? That’s fine too.

I guess the last episode was more of an epilogue, a bit of a “where are they now” thing rather than a typical last episode that would maybe address some issues.

Because at the end of the day, Pat and Pran did what felt right to them at the time. They were still young, with their parents supporting them through university and the real reason for the conflict freshly revealed. That was not the time to fight with their parents about the relationship. It could have ended even worse, one of them would have certainly been moved away for sure and the parents would have interfered more.

So ultimately, yes, they hid the relationship.. from them. The people who stood beside them this whole time, and Wai, knew about it. They literally found their small little family that accepted them and helped them be happy the way they chose to be.

And they didn’t hide it for long. At least I don’t think they did. They sure think they’re slick and discreet but they can’t stop looking at each other with hearteyes. Their parents must have notice way earlier than what we saw after the time skip. Just the look on Pat’s mother’s face when Paa mentioned that Pran is back home. She literally brightens up and asks in a very hopeful voice if he’s back home for real. She knows. Ming knows too but his pride and also the shame he feels won’t let him acknowledge it just yet.

But at the end of the day, they all know. They don’t address it but they know. They’re finally letting their children do whatever they want to do because at the end of the day they can’t control them anymore. Can’t dictate how they should behave or who they can or cannot interact with. And I feel like they finally realised that the conflict is their own, it’s not something their children should be involved in.

It’s such a relatable thing for queer people too. Our parents and people we love might know about us being gay, but they sometimes just can’t be part of that. They don’t like being reminded that we’re different, that we live a different life that they have hoped we would live. So there is shared knowledge between us, we know that they know… they know. But we don’t advertise our relationships to them, because actually, it does not concern them. And it’s not because we’re ashamed or fear their reactions.. no, we choose to have them in our lives on our terms while still living the life we want. If our parents aren’t part of this portion of our lives, it does not mean it isn’t valid, cherished or desired. We just separate those two to be able to enjoy both to its full extent. And if the parents decide to be more involved, they have to show that they did the work and that they deserve to be a part of it.

And I think that’s exactly what Pat and Pran did. They’re still in a committed and loving relationship and if their parents want to be part of their lives fully, they have to do the work. Pat and Pran did their part and now it’s their parents time to step up.

#you know… i have a lot of thoughts about the finale #most of them are positive some are negative #but overall #i love that they got to protect what’s important to them #pran x pat #el’s thoughts #bad buddy

[jaigeye]

An Instrument of Memory.

The darksaber is haunted by all those who have possessed it. Din seeks council with the ghosts; they are here to help.

Read on AO3.   |   My own more benevolent take on the ghosts of the saber.

______

Din Djarin is eight years old, and he is afraid. 

There are many people here, metal-and-flesh people who are loud and strong, and some of his fellow villagers among them. 

The Mandalorian who saved his life has not set him down for hours. He clutches his neck for dear life- a lifeline in this unfamiliar aftermath. The man has not yet chosen to deny him this comfort, and he sits down with the boy in his lap, arms curled around him. 

"This is my wife," says the man, and he points to a helmeted figure across from them, clad in dark blue durasteel.  "She and I will care for you." 

Hesitating, Din turns in his arms, loosening his grip. Her helmet shines in the dim light of the homestead. "Why do you wear that," he asks, pointing to the armor that covers her from head to toe. 

The woman leans in and tilts her head just so. "It is our unity. Together we are strong. Nobody can hurt us this way." 

"Okay," he says, watching as she kneels before him with her hands on her knees. 

“What is your name?” 

"Din."

“We will take care of you, Din. You are safe with us.”

"Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad," She whispers to him in a language he does not understand. It is soothing nonetheless. She pulls her helmet off her head; her hair is done in tight black braids against her scalp, and she has the darkest eyes he has ever seen. “Ner’ad.”

The Mandalorian brushes over his hair with one hand and translates. "... I know your name as my child. You are our Dinui. That means gift. You are our gift." 

                                                    •

In a cave by the sea, Din sits in stillness with the darksaber in his hand. 

The sun’s reflection on the water flickers over his armor like primordial fire, casting strange, fragmented light over the stone. 

The saber hums in his hand. It is so quiet here. 

He feels an odd tug on his glove, another on his sleeve. An urge.

He flicks the switch, and the black bar bursts forth from the hilt, encased in its eerie white glow. 

His breath catches.

The cave bursts to life. Across the stone walls, there is a shifting expanse of black handprints-- from the marks sprawls a strange oozing dust. They move as if they are crawling, flowing in and out of the rock, dribbling to the floor and reappearing elsewhere. 

There are figures at the edge of his vision. They stand in his periphery and dissipate when he turns his helmet to look at them.

To anyone else, the sight of a room clamoring with ghosts might initiate the instinct to run. He does consider it, for a second-- but he doesn’t, because Mandalorians look death in the eye. He’s seen a great many strange things as of late, and he figures he may as well get used to it. 

Sitting straighter, he folds his hands more firmly around the hilt of the saber and says; “What do you want?” 

“That’s not the question you want an answer to,” whispers a melodic voice from behind him. 

“Maybe not number one on the list, but I have a few,” he mutters, and chooses a better place to start. “What are you?”

The walls of the cave bend around him; the gap in the stone where he entered through transforms into a mirror. The only solid figure he can discern in the room is the sight of himself. Cross-legged, helmeted, tense. 

From all around, he can hear a steadily intermingling throng of voices. You don’t deserve it, says one, good on you for showing that Imperial scum what our folk are made of, says another. Zealot, zealot. He cranes his neck, but the half-remembered ghosts flicker out of sight. 

Where is your heart, a soft voice murmurs, you keep your heart in a bag on your hip or on the crook of your arm. 

“We wielded the saber, we died by it, we live by it.”  A woman’s voice, deep, sincere. “Ask your question.” 

Images blink across the cave walls. Paintings of mythosaurs, spears, dead civilians, razed villages-- great herds of beasts cascade over the stone. The handprints divide and scatter, oozing together into black sludge that smears strange markings across the walls. Words in Mando’a, in Aurebesh, in alphabets he has never seen before. Stories he will never understand. The ghosts whisper now, ask us, speak, we are listening...  

“I have brought Grogu to the Jedi. I completed my quest.” 

Unsatisfied. Discontent. Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad, ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad. Wind rushes through the cave; the ocean laps against the rocks. 

A deeper voice emerges from the hum. “Every Jedi is a child his family decided they could live without.”

“That’s--” Din pauses, swallowing his retort. He watches as the air burbles, a geometric miasma scattering out from the cave-paintings. “I want him to be safe. With or without me.” 

“Every time you have left him with another, it has gone afoul.” The ghosts blacken and flicker. He feels a firm hand on his shoulder-- one he can feel but cannot see. “It should be you.”

"What if I do it wrong. I'm not- I’m not a Jedi. I do not understand the force." he cuts himself shorts and sighs. "I'm afraid."

There is a metallic taste on his tongue. The air stinks of ozone. He feels the phantom weight of Grogu in his arms, and he can't help but instinctually cradle that empty space.

“You think your buirs were not afraid?” A rustle, the sound of bells, the sound of a hammer in a forge. Ner’ad, we will take care of you- 

“Will you-- as long as I have this saber, will you help me? Tell me what to do?” 

“We will not always be with you,” says one. “You have lived without us very long, and did well even then.”

“Hm,” he murmurs, unconvinced.

“You know what to do. You will not be alone.”  Buirkan, responsibility, whisper the ghosts. You are like a father to him- be afraid, and do it anyway. 

Named and nameless, real as they are not, the souls who belong to the darksaber touch him. They press their palms into his shoulder, brush where his kneecap transitions into thigh, flutter at the base of his neck, squeeze his shoulders, lay their weight against his back.

“It must be you. It has to be you.” 

“I will try,” he says, and watches as all the strange forms in the cave retract into the black bar of the saber. He sheathes it, holding it in the palms of his hands. “I will try.” 

                                                         •

Din is thirty-eight, and still afraid.

The strange planet that Luke Skywalker chose to build his temple upon is lush and green. The humidity crawls between the gaps in his armor. Moss covers the earth; his footsteps feel light as he sinks into that softness. 

Overhead, strange birds called out. A ziggurat rears its head overtop the dense treeline. The darksaber weighs heavy on his hip. Sweat cloys in his helmet; Din swallows, watching silently as a silhouette clad in black emerges from the greenery, cape billowing about him. 

They meet in the middle. Luke Skywalker's smile is as reassuring as it is gentle. "I’m glad you came," says the Jedi. "He asked for you every day."

From a bag on the man's hip, the child reaches for him. 

Din's fragmented heart clicks back into place, whole and trembling. 

He plucks the child from the pouch and cradles him against his armored chest. The ghosts linger about him, press their thumbs into his shoulders, touch his back and murmur kindly. He taps his helmet against the child's forehead; the baby gurgles, pressing his claws into the concave slope of Beskar.

"Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad, Grogu," he whispers to his son. “I know your name as my child.”

#dins haunted #din djarin #the mandalorian #writing #an instrument of memory #:) i love ... legacy... ancient relics... ghosts #benevolent guidance from wise old ancestors who care #the sword is haunted and this is as lovely as it is strange #darksaber #eeheee #feel free to rb #this is so sappy my bad i love sweet reunions