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transistus · 4 years

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Coming Out and Transitioning: My Parents’ Response

[Trigger Warning: Death mention, self harm mention]

Coming out is always something that is met with a degree of anxiety, but it is also the first step in being able to publicly transition for many people. It is a deeply personal thing and there is no set timeframe in which you have to inform others about your identity. However, it is also worth asking yourself ‘is it safe’ to tell this person about your identity, as you should never put yourself in a potentially dangerous situation.

Many people choose to come out to their parents, and the reception you can receive varies from person to person. Some people are accepted as their new identity straight away, then there are others who are less fortunate and face an uphill struggle to be accepted if at all.

For me, coming out to my parents was an uphill struggle. You see, I had always been a ’tomboy’ in my early years (a common theme among transmen) which was no issue to my parents at the time, but as I got older they started insisting that I present myself in a more feminine way. The first time they pushed for me to be more feminine was in my last two years of secondary school and to keep them happy I went along with it. At this time in my life I was aware that I was ‘different’ but I was yet to define how I was different. I didn’t know anything about transgender people at the time, so initially I believed the discomfort I felt was simply down to being a teenager which is a strange and uncomfortable time in a person’s life anyway.

The first step in my then unofficial transition was getting a haircut. As the last day of my time in secondary school drew near, I told my parents that I wanted to cut my hair short - they were less than thrilled about the idea. Before my transition I had hair that went past my bum that my mother loved, though for me it was a pain to deal with and I loathed having such long hair. I did manage to convince them to let me do it as part of a ‘fresh start’ but even after I had cut my hair short they would make numerous complaints about my decision to cut it for a while, often asking when I’d grow it out again.

The discomfort I felt about my identity persisted into my first year as an undergraduate at university in 2013. During this time, I began to overcorrect and overcompensate for the discomfort I felt, I began presenting and dressing in a more feminine way than I did in my last years of school in the hope that how I felt about myself would go away.

It didn’t.

Come the second year of university, after a discussion with my now fiancé who was the first to say that ‘you’re like a guy in a girl’s body', I finally found the word that best described me: transgender. It ticked all the boxes on how I felt and perceived myself and I began looking into taking HRT in the next few years. I stopped trying to be overly feminine, began wearing men’s clothes, and, for the time being, kept this revelation about myself quiet from my parents.

I wouldn’t come out to my parents until early 2016. I spoke to them individually, explaining how I felt, what being transgender was, the steps I would have to take to transition, and how I wanted to be called ‘Alastair’.

I received a less than warm reception.

My father couldn’t understand ‘why I wanted to be a boy’ and would regularly say things such as ‘you can’t be a boy, you’re a girl’, or ‘it’s just a phase’, he’d even send me links to anti-transgender articles now and again. All in all, he would come to criticise my decisions every step of the way for a while.

As for my mother, she blamed herself for me being transgender, frequently asking ‘is it something I did wrong?’ or ‘I must be a terrible mother’, occasionally she’d criticise me for transitioning saying things along the lines of how ‘I’d ruin my body’, but it wasn’t to the same relentless extent my father did. I would repeatedly inform them that my decision to transition wasn’t the result of something they’d ‘done wrong’ it was just who I was. I did my best to discuss being transgender with them as well as point them towards useful resources to no avail.

This lack of understanding and acceptance would continue for the next year for my mother and the next two years for my father.

I started testosterone in September 2017 shortly after beginning my Masters in Psychology under my new name. This was when my mother’s attitude changed, she saw how happy and confident starting HRT had made me (in her words: ‘after seeing you depressed and self-harming for so many years it’s nice to have my happy child back’) she began to ask more questions and slowly began to understand me. She started trying to get to grips with my name, pronouns, and referring to me as her son and I still have the first birthday card she gave me where she used my new name. To this day she remains my biggest supporter alongside my fiancé.

My father would prove more reluctant to accept me. To my mother’s credit, she also started talking to my father about my transition, explaining how my happiness comes first and that I hadn’t decided to transition on a whim one day because I felt like it, but my father would remain obstinate in his opinions until 2018.

The last time my father criticised me was a week before top surgery in May 2018 where he insisted that I would ‘regret having surgery in a few years’ among other comments. However, after my surgery he started to keep his opinions to himself, and although he didn’t overtly support me it was better than being criticised regularly.

The real change came that December on Christmas Day. The change in his attitude was unexpected and it began with a card addressed to my new name. After Christmas, he informed his friends that I was now his son and he even started referring to me by name along with male pronouns (he would make mistakes every now and again but he was trying). To this day I’m not too sure what sparked the change in his behaviour towards me, but I couldn’t have been happier.

I was looking forward to starting 2019 with this new found father-son relationship, but the joy was short lived.

My father was killed in an accident in January 2019. I was distraught and suffered from a dreadful bout of PTSD due to the nature of his death, but the one thing that brought me some comfort despite the horror of it all was that we didn’t part on a bad note. He had come to accept me as his son and had made tremendous progress in trying to understand and support me before his tragic death.

On that sombre note it’s time to conclude this post with a few final thoughts on coming out to your parents and transitioning.

I wanted to write about my experience as an example that, in some cases (sadly, not all), your parents can change their way of thinking, they can come to respect you for who you are when given enough time.

Obviously, you can never really know for sure how your parents will react to being informed of your new identity. Some parents accept you without question. Some may reject you being transgender entirely, brushing it off as a phase or being openly hostile. Some may come to terms with your transition faster than others. Some need to be educated, and others just need to process the changes you’re going through in their own way.

Whether or not you decide to come out to your parents is ultimately your decision to make. If they do accept you, that’s fantastic, but know that even if they don’t accept you, you will find people in your life who will, and if they’re slow to come to terms with it like my parents were, that’s fine too.

#alastairs transition #trans #transgender #coming out #ftm #mtf #transition #transman #transwoman

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who-is-olivia · 4 years

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Track 4. Two Ghosts

Harry Styles x OC x Taylor Swift

Harry reunites with Olivia after he settles in a relationship with Taylor Swift. [4.5k]

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: substance abuse, mentions of panic attacks, mental health struggles, infidelity

January 2013

“I just left the keys with Nialler, mine and El’s, tomorrow we’ll come pick up the rest of my clothes” Louis explains over the phone while Harry looks at the New York landscape through snowy windows.

After the successful tour, there was no more financial reason to share a flat with Lou, and before that there was not a good healthy climate to share it either. He felt terrible seeing him every day after they shared such intimate moments. They’re still close friends, just not as much as they used to be, and it hurts. He misses the days when they would play video games on the couch and diss each other’s clothing, he misses the companionship they shared. In fact, looking back to this time last year, there’s a lot of things he misses. His anonymity, his mum’s house, Oli...

Boy, does he miss Oli.

Few months after her first big hit debuted, launching her album and promoting their tour, she became too stressed. She felt the hate and the press lurking around her like vultures, she cried about small things, she smoked three packs a day, she became aloof and apathetic. One day, it was all too much.

Since she decided to live with Frank her mother has shut her out, they haven’t been on speaking terms. Right after the tour, when her band started racing up the charts, a tabloid wrote an article with her mum spilling all of her life story. Oli’s always been very secretive about her family history, Harry knew the basics but she seldom talked about it. So one day she woke up and everybody, in the whole world, knew and judged her for it.

Looking out the window, the New York landscape disappears and he’s back in her hotel room holding her by the shoulders, her eyes puffy and vague, her tear-soaked face was catatonic. She had been kneeling on the living room unable to move or talk for hours and it scared him. She was absolutely broken, and no amount of love declamations and tears were enough to bring her out of that loop.

Harry took her to a mental institution that day and never saw her again, all he heard from Frank was that she went back home to make peace with her mother. That was back in September, now it’s January and he still haven’t heard from her, so he’s trying to move on. He’s been hanging out with Taylor, she’s good company – and, most importantly, a good distraction. They’re set to travel tomorrow and enjoy some well deserved vacation but he hasn’t packed swimsuits or anything, so he’s going out to buy some after he’s done with Lou.

“It’s alright mate”

“Okay, I’d hand it to you in person but I was thinking about taking El to meet my mum”

“Wow, that’s huge!” he smiles sadly, he never got to introduce Oli to his mum. Bet they’d get along just fine. “You think you’ll be back in time for rehearsals?”

“Can’t miss that, Simon’d just kick my arse”

He chuckles, “Right, see ya then”

“See ya” they both hang up.

Although Taylor offered to host him at her private loft in Chelsea, Harry opted to book a hotel room on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, next to where Olivia used to live. So, when he goes out for a morning jog, he always walks past her building and the pub where she used to work. This morning, he packs up to go shopping and leaves the hotel, reaching a point where, if he makes a turn, he’ll reach the tube and go shopping right away, if he goes forward he’ll pass in front of Uncle Jim’s Pub, but he’ll have to walk another twenty minutes before he finds another station.

It’s a pointless ritual, going over to Uncle Jim’s. She’s never there. But he can’t help that fear in his guts of missing an hour on the day where she might just be. So, despite all logic, he goes forward.

He soldiers through the cold morning stomping over melted snow until he passes over the pub. He looks through the window and this time spots something odd, or rather, someone: a man in a dress sitting over the bar.

He comes closer, rubbing the glass to see better. He spots Jim sitting on one of the tables, his signature cane beside him. They’re both looking at the same spot on stage but he can’t quite see it. Slowly, he opens the door and immediately hears the soft piano tiles playing something harmoniously crude but melodically so, so sweet.

There she is, beautifully onstage playing the piano forte, her back perfectly straight, her signature braids are gone, her hair a small afro surrounding tanned cheeks. She looks sober and... peaceful, all her nervous agitation is gone, she looks healthy.

He hides behind the bar, bumping into the portraits on the wall: Uncle Jim with Brian May and David Bowie, Oli and Frank sitting on Elton John’s knees, Paul McCartney watching her play the piano. He remembers Oli talking about uncle David and uncle Paul but he never saw it like this, her sweet toothless smile alongside some of the biggest rockstars in the world. She has a lot to live up to, maybe he didn’t realise that. He didn’t realise a lot of things.

For a while, Oli was just the thrill of the chase, someone untouchable who graced him with her affection. But then they went on tour and suddenly she wasn’t just a fling, she was a friend who stood at the backstage every single show, who talked to him until late hours on the tour bus, she shared her most vulnerable side and he loved it, he loved her. Those stolen kisses and quick fucks became meaningful, they became friends then they became lovers. That’s why it was so hard to watch her crumble.

The portrait he bumps smashes on the ground making them all turn, including Olivia.

It’s like she’s seen a ghost. And so has he.

“Harry” she gasps, getting up from the stool. Jim and Frank both turn toward him with big salutary gestures.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“Oh, don’t worry! How’ve you been? It’s been a while!” Jim nods, unable to get up.

“Jim, we better give ‘em some room” Frank, always the expert on reading the room.

“No, no, no need, we’re going outside” she indicates for him to follow her out the door. Before she walks out she notices Frank’s weird looks, she sends one back signaling it’s alright in their own mental language and pushes Harry out the door.

Harry is still appalled, trying to make sense of things while his eyes are assaulted by the winter morning’s sun. She pulls the door until it’s shut and, when she turns to leave, she finds herself being cornered against the glass by Harry. She stumbles back before being welcomed into his embrace.

He sighs in relief, feeling her hair tickling his cheek as it used to do. He can’t help but smile at the sensation of her body pressed against his and her gentle hands making their way to his back. “I missed you so much”

“I missed you too” she sighs through a smile. “I’m so sorry for the silence”

“I understand” he kisses the top of her head, “how’re you feeling?”

“Fulfilled, relieved... it’s like there’s a huge weight off my shoulders” she steps to his right, “You’re heading this way?”

“I- I don’t know”

“Jesus, Harry, let’s just walk” she mocks, “How are the boys?”

“They’re fine, Zayn and Perrie just moved in together”

“Nice” she swallows dryly, hadn’t she gone away maybe she and Harry would be living together.

“Niall is going out with someone, he won’t tell us who but we know” he chuckles, “we’re making bets on it, wanna join?”

“Sure” she replies, still thoughtful.

Noticing her discomfort, he hurriedly switches the subject, “I guess things with your mum were alright”

“It was fine, we just needed some quality time to put our thoughts in order. And Frank helped a lot, you know, getting her to know him made all the difference” she smiles earnestly, “He’s the fucking best, I couldn’t have done it without him”

“Blimey...”

“What?”

“I just... nothing, it’s silly”

“You’re silly all the time, tell me!” she taunts him with a smile.

“I already know what you’re going to say” he warns, “but sometimes I wish you were talking about me” he shrugs his shoulders.

“You’re such a-“

“-jelly baby, yeah I know!” she laughs, a laugh he was dying to hear.

“- such a jelly baby”

“Oli” he cuts that sweet sound, “I need to know... did you ever get to hear what I said to you the day you passed out?”

“No... sorry Haz, I just zoned out. What was it?”

“No, it’s nothing”

“What? Why are you so secretive today?” she continues to taunt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect to meet a lot of people today, least of all you...” a thought crosses his mind, cutting his speech, “When did you arrive?”

“Just this morning, I got a night flight from Rio-“

“Were you going to call me? After all that happened?”

Olivia ponders for a moment, afraid of giving him an honest answer. He’s always been sincere, even if it hurt her, now it’s time to return the favour: “I don’t think so, Haz... It’s not because I don’t care about you or anything like that, it’s just...” she looks for the words but this time they’re hard to uncover, “I’m feeling fine now, but I can’t forget the fright I gave you. I don’t remember what you said or what was actually going on but I have a clear image of you just” she crosses her arms over her collarbones, “holding me so hard I almost choked, I can’t imagine how that felt to you... and I don’t want to put you through that again. I’m fine now but I don’t know how I’m gonna be tomorrow, I still feel the old me lurking just around the corner. Feeling fine is new territory to me, but I don’t know how you fit into this”

He nods, “Let me know when you do?”

She grins, “Of course! Yes, of course!”

And then she does it again, hugs him like she used to, pressing her whole body against him and nestling her head on the crook of her neck. He wants to turn her and kiss her so bad, but he can’t do it. That’s what they used to be, not who they are.

“I better get back, Frank must be losing his shit... how long you’ll be around?”

“I’m leaving tomorrow, me and... hm... Taylor”

“Taylor?” she frowns. Fuck.

For all the tabloids and gossip websites, she has to hear it from him. Why can’t she just use her phone like a normal human being and read the fucking news? “Taylor Swift? We’ve been hanging out...”

“Oh...” she gasps in surprise.

“You didn’t say anything, I assumed-“

“No, it’s alright” her words don’t align with her face, “It’s ok Harry, really”

“You don’t seem ok”

“I’m just surprised, that’s all” she compensates with an awkward smile, “I’m happy for you”

“Thanks” he replies with a sour taste, he can feel when they’re not being honest to each other, in this cases cordiality is worse than just lying. Lying just hides something, cordiality shoves the thing in your face and acts like it’s not there.

“Oh, just in case I don’t get to see you anytime soon” she reaches into her sleeves and takes a colourful bracelet, “just a little souvenir from Rio, I was going to keep it in my bag but I thought I’d lose it”

“Thanks Oli, that’s lovely” he watches as she ties it around his wrist.

“Well it was great to see you, have a nice trip tomorrow!” she pecks his cheek and leaves.

Just as she came, she went away. Not a moment with Oli ever feels wasted but they sure do feel short. Without any options, Harry goes on with his day chores which now include buying swim gear for a trip he doesn’t want to make anymore.

He lifelessly picks random trunks and floral shirts, taking fewer than he’ll actually need then takes a cab to Taylor’s place. When he arrives the Chelsea flat, she’s reading a book on the couch, her perfect blond hair on a ponytail.

“Hey, stranger!” she looks over the backboard.

“Morning!” he comes over and kisses her temple, but she calls him back with a finger and presses her lips against his. “What’re you up to?”

“Not much, just finishing this” she shows him a copy of The Hunger Games, “I’m loving it. Everything’s already packed, I guess we’ll just wait around”

“I could use a nap, jet lag is driving me mad” he scoots over the couch and pulls himself a pillow, laying his head over Taylor’s lap. She rests her book over his chest while mindlessly playing with his fingers. While she’s distracted, he notices something about her face: even without any makeup, Taylor’s lips are still tinted red, which contrast beautifully with her stark blue eyes. Despite having a beauty of her own, she reminds him so much of Lou. For the second time today, he feels an uncomfortable void on his guts after remembering fondly someone he loved.

He turns his gaze away, it hurts so bad to be haunted by these people who feel so close and vivid but at the same time feel like a distant memory, a ghost. He talked to Louis on the phone, he just saw Olivia on the flesh, Taylor is right in front of him caressing his hand but they feel so foreign. Maybe they’ve changed a lot ever since that idealised moment when they fell in love, maybe Harry’s the one who’s changed.

“Hey” she whispers, “what’s going on in your head?”

“Just thinking... do you still talk to the people you used to date?”

She chuckles at he spontaneous question, “Not on purpose, I always bump into them at these big events and of course everybody knows, so I have to be polite. If I even blink wrong the whole world will be like: Taylor Swift is just a bitter old hag”

“Come on, now”

“It’s true! If I talk to them, I’m fake, if I don’t talk to them, I’m rude, there’s no winning for us girls. You guys can do whatever you want!” she pokes his side, “If you see your ex and talk to them you’re oh, so polite and considerate, if you don’t talk you’re really discrete-“

“I get it” he nods in agreement. “But that’s not what I meant, it’s like... can you still be friends with people you used to be more than friends?”

“You and your weird questions” she mocks him lightly before sighing and finally answering: “It’s weird being friendly with someone you shared so much intimacy with”

“Yeah” he nods.

“ Just seeing them reminds me of something that I used to feel but I can’t talk about it, so I always end up tiptoeing around it and I... I hate it. I’m usually very straightforward but in these tight corners I never say what I really mean”

He nods silently. If he could see Oli again, what would he say? There was so much he wanted to say, in fact he already said it but she wasn’t able to listen. It’s so frustrating...

Taylor and him spend the day together lounging around, making out and napping. At some point they nap in a hammock, her body cuddled against his while the night falls outside. She sleeps very quietly while he doesn’t sleep at all, just stare at his new bracelet and ponders upon the last words Oli said today: ‘just in case I don’t get to see you anytime soon’. In a few weeks he’ll go on tour, her band split and they have no projects mapped out, when will they actually see each other again? On tour, they spent every day together except the ones when they’d be tired of each other and just spent the day apart. It’s so upsetting not knowing when he’ll see her again, that feeling just turns to a small pit of fear in his heart. What if his story with Oli is already over? It can’t be, he still has so much he wants to do, so many places to take her.

But coming back from his daydream he finds himself laying with another girl. Shouldn’t he be planning things with her? For fuck’s sake, they’re about to take a romantic trip together! Still, looking ahead to his future, he can see nobody but Olivia. She’s left such a gap in his present and in his future he can’t stand the possibility of not taking a chance.

Trying his best not to disturb her, Harry gets up from the hammock and walks to the kitchen. The fridge light washes the room white as he finds the rest of the wine bottle, there’s just two gulps left so he decides to take the whole thing. When he closes the fridge, surprisingly the room doesn’t go dark as the moon shines furiously through the windows. Another memory hits him: when he and Oli hid on the roof of their hotel in Phoenix. She took a bottle of rosé and a few blankets, cuddling with him while trying to remove the cork. She said “I hope you like a good rosé, I hate red wine”, and ever since then he lost the habit of drinking red wine... until today.

As if to defy her memory he drinks the wine anyway but somehow the taste feels repugnant. Even now, she still haunts him. He looks over to Taylor and an enormous guilt befalls him. She is incredible, a good company, but his heart still beats for somebody else. He hits his head against the fridge in shame but it won’t change how he feels... so he decides to seek counselling.

He calls Zayn at least three times but not even a friend in need can dissuade him from deep slumber. So, he heads to the balcony and calls his second option, the one he wants to avoid but can’t anyways: “Hey curly, what’s going on? It’s a bit late here”

“I know Lou, I’m so sorry I just couldn’t help it”

“It’s alright, I’m up already. What’s going on?”

“I saw Oli today, she’s back in New York” he blurts at once, looking back at the balcony door to make sure Taylor’s still asleep.

“That’s great man, cheers-“

“Yeah, except I’m with Taylor now and I can’t stop thinking about Oli”

The line goes quiet for a moment. “Oh... that’s bad”

“I don’t know what to do, mate”

“Harry... I should tell you to stay with Taylor, you know, ‘cause she’s a nice gal and she helped you out of a tough place, but...” he smiles sadly, “I know if I tell you this is the right thing to do you’ll do it, even if it hurts you”

Harry snorts, “I probably would”

“Exactly, so I can’t tell you that. Listen mate, I... I fucking adore you, you’re one of my best mates and I know what happened between us hurt you”

“It’s alright now, Lou”

“I know it is, but I don’t want to be that wanker to tell you ‘just forget your feelings and do what you have to do’, you know?”

He chuckles, “Sure mate”

“See? So, in my humble opinion, you should go for Oli. I know you’re crazy ‘bout that lass... and, you know, we won’t get everything we want in life, specially us if we keep the band thing going. The least you can do is have fun with someone you love”

“Thanks, Lou”

“Anytime curly... ‘though if you can call a bit earlier”

“Right, right... bye mate”

Olivia tosses and turns on her bed. The flat is so quiet when Frank’s not home, it’s unnerving, specially when she’s emotionally wavering. She gets up and away from her tormented thoughts and searches for one of her vinyls, she could do with a bit of music to drown it all out. She finds ‘Rumors’ from Fleetwood Mack and places it on the speaker, swinging to the melody of the first track and letting the tune fill her ears. She starts to assemble a cigarette while keeping a distant eye on her phone, she’s been trying to avoid it ever since the breakdown but seeing Harry today was very triggering. A spark of curiosity hits her but she refrains, last time she spent too much time on her phone she ended up in a psychiatric hospital.

She finishes rolling her cigarette and lights it, getting up and singing along. It’s a good song, but not good enough to distract her from the temptation of her phone.

“Fuck it” she reaches the phone and searches for Twitter. Turns out Frank deleted it so she has to download it again, letting the anxiety take her reins as nervous tears cloud her view. Sighing in frustration, she logs in her secret account and searches for Taylor and Harry. “So stupid, so fucking stupid” she puts it down.

Oli takes a long drag, holds it for a while then let go, letting one single tear fall down in self pity. Unnerved, she takes the phone back. She looks at the search results: Harry and Taylor walking down Central Park with Baby Lux, kissing after her midnight show in Times Square, talking at a restaurant. And of course, where there is a new girlfriend there will be comparisons:

@directionfever: Thank god he’s moving on from his drug dealer.

@bluejayway: my boy Harry looking like a prince with that new chick, he finally getting what he deserves

@styyles_xo: That’s the smile of someone who ain’t playing nurse anymore and’s finally living <3

@larryxx: taylor aint all that but at least harry is free from that fucking pr relationship

Oh yes, the PR argument. Of course Harry and Olivia were arranged by a group of public relations managers in order to promote her career, as if she couldn’t possibly fall in love with him just for the sake of it. And boy did she fall graciously in love with him. It felt so strange seeing him this morning and just not squeeze his cheeks and give him a kiss, she didn’t even feel like the same person. Now he’s going away and all she wants is to fuck all logic and reason and just get him back like nothing ever happened. But of course, everything happened. She made a choice to stay away after she came back, now she has to deal with the most uncomfortable consequences

Before she can fall deeper into that self-doubt abyss, there are knocks on the door. “Frank? Did you forget the keys?” she asks wiping her tears.

She opens it to find Harry.

“Haz?” all coherent thoughts evade her, “W-What’re you doing here, it’s past midnight already-“

“Did you, hm... did you see the moon?” she frowns at him but not completely dismissive, “It looks just like that night... bloody hell Oli, do you remember that night? On the roof?”

“Yes, I remember” she chuckles.

“If I close my eyes I can see it clear as day, I remember every single day I spent with you clear as day, it’s so clear I can almost touch it, love” he sighs shyly.

“Harry...” she gasps.

“The first night on the bus! Do you remember it?”

“Harry I had a breakdown, not amnesia!” she laughs before noticing the typical agitation on her hallway and the neighbors paying attention to their exchange, “Shit, come on in”

“What I’m trying to say, the best way I can is... I have this very vivid memory of you and I thought that’s all I’d ever have. But when I saw you this morning... I thought we still had a chance” he reaches out for her, before slowly recoiling at her lack of response, sitting at the couch’s arm rest. “Please say something?”

She quirks her head, “Is that Frank’s shirt?”

He looks down at the plain white t-shirt and frowns, “This?”

“The one he gave to me and then I gave it to you?”

“Hm... yeah, did you hear-“

“I did” she smiles shortly, “I just don’t know what to say, I mean I was just here bawling my eyes out thinking I’d never get to see you again and all of a sudden you’re here saying all these things!” her voice cracks. She stops, takes a deep breath and continues: “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say”

“You could say: ‘I’m really, really in love with you and I want to try again’” he mimics her lower pitched-voice while pulling her closer by the hem of her shirt. She giggles at his little tantrum, pacing closer until his chin rests between her breasts. Without another word, she strokes his curly locks of hair and holds him close agains her bosom. He nuzzles a straight line from her sternum to her collarbone, feeling just a tinge of her cologne. Every crawling touch feels like he’s desperately trying to remember how it feels to have her heartbeat singing in his ear.

He pulls her shirt collar down and the loose fabric slides revealing a bit more of skin and a couple more tattoos. He runs his lips over it, feeling the sweet taste of her skin just as it used to be. Looking up, he sees her eyes lightly shut, her parted lips lit by the moonlight that invades the living room. He remembers when having her like this was enough, when he felt truly alive. Olivia is still everything he really needs, the rest is the rest. She’s not a ghost, she’s not a reverie, she looks, sounds, tastes, smells and feels so real to him, it’s impossible to desire any other incarnation of her other then the very present one.

“Haz” she sighs in a whimper, pushing him away a bit. She tries but she can’t escape his looming eyes. “I know I have no right to ask anything from you... “ her courage suddenly evades her, “but I don’t want you to go”

He cups her cheeks in a small comforting gesture, “I won’t go anywhere”

“What about Taylor? She must be so upset with me”

“Believe me, you’re not the one she’s upset with, it’s ok” he dismisses it, leaning in to kiss her lips passionately. “I’m right where I want to be” she smiles and kisses him back.

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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656

Where is the last place you had a kiss? My girlfriend’s couch. I normally wouldn’t kiss her inside her house but we were alone, so it just happened. What did you eat for breakfast yesterday? I skipped breakfast yesterday and went straight to having a macchiato, which was a horrible idea considering I had a badddd hangover. My body made me pay for it soon enough when my stomach started unusually heating up, so I bought a sandwich by around lunch to help it feel better. When was the last time you were at an amusement park? 2013. I don’t like amusement parks so when my friends make plans I don’t go along with them. Two weeks ago I was at a school fair which kinda has the same amenities as an amusement park, but I guess it’s not the real thing so it doesn’t count. When was the last time you cried out of physical pain? Last Wednesday. My friend Leigh was trying to demonstrate for me the concept of just-noticeable difference by pinching the skin on my hand. I don’t like feeling pain anywhere on my body, so when she started amping up her pinching I had to yell out. Have you ever done anything to Support the Troops? No. Can’t relate.

Do you donate blood? Nooooo no nope. I just said I didn’t like feeling discomfort on any part of my body hahaha and getting pricked is the worst sensation for me. I wouldn’t be able to donate blood even if I wanted to either – as far as I know you have to be of a certain weight to be qualified, and I’ve never met that requirement. Are you wearing two shirts? No. It’s never too cold to be wearing two shirts here. The only time I had to really do this in a local sense was in Sagada. That weather was b r u t a l. It was the first time my dad turned on the heater in our car and I didn’t even know Filipino cars came with heaters lmaaaaaaao. This was a very long way of saying no. Have you ever owned the socks with toes on them? Never have. What were you the last time you went trick or treating? I went as my best friend at the time, Sofie. I didn’t have time (and wasn’t as extroverted as I am now) to come up with a detailed costume, so I went as her – black dress, eyebags, winged eyeliner, and thick hair that was never combed. It had the least effort of all my friends’ costumes, but I got the most compliments on social media lol. What's your favorite morning activity? I am so not a morning person, and I just like sleeping/lying in whenever I can. Can you cook? I am hopeless in that department. Is there a lot of laundry in your hamper? No. My mom’s laundry day is Friday, so it’s basically empty the whole weekend. When do you think you'll have children? In a little less than a decade, honestly. I’m pretty firm in my decision to have kids; it’s my biggest dream if anything. I mean I’m also willing to wait until I’m in my 30s because god knows how expensive everything is rapidly getting these days, but I just know I’ll end up having kids one way or another. Can you point out constellations in the night sky? No. The only thing I can safely point out for you is Orion’s Belt, and that’s because it’s essentially a giveaway lmao. What was your favorite part about studying ancient Greeks and Romans? Nothing. It’s one of my least favorite topics. The only thing that got me to enjoy them for a brief period was the Percy Jackson series, but when I finished the books my interest in that world waned fast. Have you ever eaten a gyro? Nah, but close enough – I’ve had shawarma. What's your favorite flavor of Tootsie pops? Mmmm not really a fan of Tootsie Pops, or like candy in general. What's the last thing you bought at a mall? If I remember correctly, I got a toasted siopao in Coffee Bean. Where did your mom go to high school? She went to Colegio de Santa Rosa in Makati. What's a subject you would never major in? Philosophy. My college curriculum required me to take one Philosophy elective, and not only was it the worst experience ever, but I got my second-lowest mark in college from that class. Is there someone who you can turn to for money and not be ashamed? No. I hate asking for money, even from my parents. When's the last time you took a bubble bath? A little over a year ago, probs. I love bubble baths when I manage to get settled in one, but because I’m usually in a hurry when I take showers, the concept of staying and relaxing in a bathtub is a little weird to me so I never do it haha. Have you ever swam in a river? I have photos of me when I was 1, my mom, her sisters-in-law, and their kids (my cousins) swimming in some river. Are there any dirty clothes underneathe your bed? No. I know I could be messy, but that’s just disgusting. What food do you love the smell of while it's cooking? Curry. What food do you hate the smell of uncooked? I just hate the smell of wasabi in general. Your #2--what's their occupation? Your #3--what color are their eyes? Your #1--what cartoon character would they be? Your #4--are they allergic to anything? All Myspace questions that I’m skipping, lmao. Has a bee ever stung you? No. That’s like one of my top 3 fears so I never allow myself to be near bees or wasps. If there’s any nearby I run the fuckkkkk away. Where did you last go camping? I have never been camping for real. In what month do you start Christmas shopping? Last year I had some stuff ordered by early November – but those were gifts for just my girlfriend. I bought everyone else’s gifts like a week before Christmas. Have you ever slept in a bed with someone with bad BO? I’m sure I have; I just don’t let it bother me because no one’s breath is supposed to smell great in the morning lmao. Do you have a favorite flavor at Baskin Robbins? I have never had Baskin Robbins and I dunno if I will, because it’s just so expensive. Philippine suppliers looove bringing foreign brands like Shake Shack and Baskin Robbins over here and slapping insanely high prices on them just so they’re seen as high-end lmao, it’s sad. Are there fast food wrappers/cups in your car? No not at the moment. If anything there are old receipts. Do you read the newspaper? Very seldom, but given that I’m a journalism student, I encounter newspapers a lot because they’re everywhere in the college. What search engine do you use? Google. Have you ever posted a question on Yahoo questions? Nope. But the website is useful and I just look for people asking the same question I have at the moment. Have you ever been on a dating website? I made a Tinder account a few years ago just to observe it and just for fun. I never needed it but I was curious, so I joined it but I used a fake name and a photo of a cat I saw in school as my profile picture so that no one knew who it was. Have you ever had a crush on a celebrity of the same sex? Save for CM Punk, I’ve only ever had crushes on female celebrities. What kind of flowers would you plant in your garden? I dunno, I’ve never felt interested in growing flowers...or a garden, in general. Would you rather have a flat tire or overheated car? Flat tire. As far as I know that can be fixed a little more easily than a completely overheated car. What's the safest form of transportation? Private car, lmao. That’s really your safest bet in this country. Do you believe that kids should be taught abstinence? They can be taught about it so they’re aware of what it means and asks of them, but kids should also be reminded that at the end of the day it’s an option that they can choose to take or not. When's the next time you'll go to the grocery store? I only ever go when my dad is home because he likes having us along, so maybe in a month or two. When's the last time you went to Chuck E. Cheese? Never. What's your favorite cheese or cheese flavored food? Mozzarella sticks. Do you like black licorice? It’s decent, at best. I won’t spit it out, but it’s not my first candy of choice either. Can you count to 100 in another language? Two, Filipino and Spanish. We use Spanish when referring to currency, so that’s why it’s easy to memorize. Like I’d say I have labing-limang (fifteen in Filipino) notebooks, but when I have to say fifteen pesos, we say it as kinse (fifteen in Spanish). Idk, it’s a weird quirk with Filipinos but yeah. What's the nearest thing to you that can bounce? I don’t think there is anything bouncy in the living room at the moment. Do you hate cleaning? If I have to do it I get lazy. But when I actually want to clean, it can be relaxing. Do you clear dishes in the garbage disposal or in the garbage can? My mom takes out the garbage. Do you watch anything on the E! network? I don’t think our cable comes with E! so the only times I get to encounter it is when we’re staying over at hotels. I like having Keeping Up With the Kardashians on when we do have that channel. Have you ever tried out or thought of trying out for American Idol? I loved the show during its peak days, but I never had the desire to join it. Where's your car keys? Upstairs, on my bedside drawer. Did you keep any momentos of high school dances? From my high school ball, yes. I still have my old gown, photos with Mike, the instrument he used to ask me to ball (a Starbucks cup with the proposal written on it by the barista), and my old corsage. I like keeping stuff like that around so that I don’t forget, not because I still like him lmao. My prom could fuck off, and I have nothing from that night. Do you still have clothes from your high school dances? I have no idea. My high school prom dress disappeared after a while, but I still have my ball gown. The last person you laid in bed with said... I don’t know what you’re referring to but our last conversation was her telling me to drive home safe. Can you touch your nose with your tongue? I can’t. Which celebrities would you want to hang out with at a bbq? The Friends cast. Do you think you could do better drawings than Napolean Dynamite? I have never seen the movie. What are you doing on Superbowl Sunday? Isn’t it over already? I saw my aunts and uncles post about it on Facebook so I’m pretty sure it’s over. Anyway, I don’t care for football. Ever been to the original 13 colonies? No. Have you ever been to a concert that got out of control? Not really. The most ‘rebellious’ thing that ever happened was at my One Direction concert. The organizers made the stupid decision of holding the show on FLAT concert grounds and not a stadium, for a concert that probably held 10,000-20,000 people. Can you imagine holding that on just the GROUND??? Anyway, my sister and I had the third best tickets which was supposed to bring us to the semi-front, but it turned out to be so far from the stage. Everyone from my section all the way to the back resorted to standing up on the monobloc chairs which really isn’t allowed, but duh it’s One Direction and we wanted to see them. Harry had to call us out and ask us to get down from the chairs and just stand on the ground for our safety, but we kept protesting until they just gave up and continued the show. What's the last thing you watched on tv? Titanic, but we watched it on Netflix. I haven’t seen cable TV in a whiiiiiiile.

Whose show should be cancelled? 13 Reasons Why. Do you like Lindsay Lohan as a blonde? It doesn’t bother me. When's the last time you ate fruit? Last Friday I tried some of Laurice’s green mango with bagoong. Can you jump rope double dutch? Nope. I know jump rope but I never went that far.

#survey #surveys

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firemedicdiaz · 6 years

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Wicked Whumptober - Day 24

For Anonymous.

Fandom: Star Trek AOS. Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Reader. Prompt: Drowning. Word Count: 1119. Warning(s): near-drowning, small spaces, anxiety attack, difficulty breathing.

The first sign of trouble comes when you hear a loud creaking noise coming from the large outflow pipe above the water pump you’re working on. You do your best to ignore it, though, electing to continue focusing on the gasket you’ve been tasked with replacing. It’s a big task as it’s part of the pump that supplies the science labs and has a sizeable outflow, and you hope that you don’t screw it up or it’s going to make a huge mess.

Another creak stops you in your tracks. You look at the spot where it’s coming from and watch a small trickle of water drip from the junction between the pump and the outflow. Reaching up, you prod at the gasket there a little bit, gasping in shock as a fissure suddenly runs up the side of the pipe, effectively rupturing the line completely, causing water to spray out. The spray is under such high pressure that you feel the water bite into your skin as you try to put a hand over the fissure and you quickly pull it away.

You frantically reach for your comm but knock it off of the pump casing in your clumsy haste, sending it straight into the quickly forming puddle at your feet. It pops, fizzles, and sparks a few times and blinks out, leaving you without a means of communication. Cursing, you turn and move to the door of the compartment, attempting to open it. It’s no use, though; the ship’s security system has already detected the leak and has locked you in. Without access to an override panel on the outside you’re stuck.

The room is small and very quickly filling with water. It’s lapping at your knees as you do the only thing you can think to do and start banging on the walls and the door with a wrench, praying that someone will hear you. You make as much noise as you can, wading in the water that’s already creeping up your thighs, sending a chill through you, but to no avail.

As the water continues to rise, tears blur your vision. You panic, shouting, knocking on the panelling, desperate. As the water reaches your jawline, you swear you hear footsteps just outside the door It’s hard to tell over the rushing of water, but you continue to hope as the water starts to claim you. There’s very little head room in the compartment and while you try to keep your face above water, it soon becomes impossible. You hold your breath, your lungs burning, but know you can’t hold on much longer.

When you can hold on no more, you gasp, sucking in a mouthful of the icy water. It hurts less than you thought it would, you think, but the anxiety of being unable to breathe quickly coalesces into a knot in your chest and you flail weakly as you feel unconsciousness starting to draw you. You choke on the water as you fade into darkness, though in your last wakeful moment you swear you feel yourself being pulled along by some sort of a current.

When you wake, hours of dreamless sleep have passed by and you have no idea where you are. You’re lying on a bed, covered by blankets, and a soft, dim light illuminates the room around you. There’s a mask on your face - for oxygen delivery, you realize quickly - and something is touching your chest. Blinking, you look around blearily and find Dr. McCoy standing over you, stethoscope in hand, listening to your breathing.

“Welcome back,” he says warmly, smiling as he removes his stethoscope. “How are you feeling?”

You attempt to take a deep breath but groan as it makes your chest hurt. You shrug.

“Alive, anyway,” you reply.

“Well, your vitals are stable and your lungs are drying up thanks to the meds,” Leonard comments. “Looks like you’re going to make a full recovery.”

You nod. Feeling winded, you attempt another deep breath but find that it doesn’t ease the discomfort. You try yet again and come up short. The feeling reminds you of the claustrophobia of the compartment you’d been trapped in and of the desperation you’d felt when you’d run out of air and had been forced to breathe water.

The monitor on your bio bed starts to wail as you begin to hyperventilate at the memories. Your heart is racing and skipping wildly as you reach up to claw at the mask on your face, attempting to dislodge it, desperate to take a proper breath. Leonard’s hand interrupts you, though, gently pinning your arm to your side as he leans in close to you.

“Try to relax for me, darlin’,” he says in a low, soothing tone. “I can’t give you anything for the anxiety right now because it’ll make your breathing worse, so I need you to breathe through this with me. Nice and slow, in and out.”

You do your best to listen as he coaches you, following along with the steady rhythm of his own breathing, and eventually the anxiety starts to ebb. There’s a disconcerting tingling in your fingers and toes but you ignore it as you work to calm down. Leonard rests a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly.

“That’s great, sweetheart,” he says with a smile. “Keep going, just like that.”

You nod, relaxing your shoulders and breathing in slow, shallow breaths. You slowly start to feel better and you can tell that Leonard is pleased with what the monitor is showing, too. After a few more minutes, you’re comfortable and breathing easily once again. Leonard moves to sit in the chair at your bedside, reaching out to hold your hand.

“Scared me to death when they carried you in here and you weren’t breathing,” Leonard admits softly. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

You smile tiredly, squeezing his hand.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” you tease.

“Don’t even joke about that,” Leonard deadpans, his tone grave.

You avert your gaze.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “Humor helps me deal with stuff.”

Leonard’s entire posture relaxes, his tone softening as he clutches your hand firmly.

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” he says with a shake of his head. “I just got so upset I forgot that this happened to you more than anyone. I can worry on my own damn time.”

You meet his gaze again, smiling tiredly.

“I’m okay, Len,” you say quietly. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got the best doctor in the universe to take care of me and make sure nothing happens.”

Leonard chuckles softly - genuinely - and in that moment you know that you’re going to be just fine.

@starshiphufflebadger @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse @feelmyroarrrr @ababyinatrenchcoat @alluramc @medicatemedrmccoy @arrowsshootyouforwards @wonders-of-the-multiverse @devanshade @dolamrothianlady @startrekimagines @theonlyparadox @gaeilgerua @itsjaynebird @goodnightwife @thevalesofanduin @distinguishedqueenofbooks @elsa-lost-in-translation @thefanficfaerie @gryffindor9whovian @auduna-druitt @archangels-lollipop @supermoonpanda @bubblegum-star-trek @the-space-goddess-16 @bkwrm523 @starmission @the-geeky-engineer @startled-seastar @sassmasterqueen @shewolf-2013 @this-obsession-o-mine @littlecarowrites @eyeofdionysus @nasanatmfers @galaxycharmed @emmkolenn @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @kirkaholic123 @viioletdelights @ambie2020 @yallneedtrek @iwillwakeherinthemorning @haveyouseenmymind @sorryallonsy @kriskentia @reading-in-moonlight @mad-girl-without-a-box @itsrandombooklover @all-time-foes @kickingitwithkirk @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @annathewitch @kawaiiusagichansan @garnet-redtailedhero @djisfantastic @ever-faithful-sidekick @killerbumblebee

#Wicked Whumptober 2018 #Star Trek AOS #Leonard McCoy #reader insert #drowning #fanfiction #drabble #whump #whumptober

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pcttrailsidereader · 5 years

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Thirst: 2600 Miles to Home (a slice of Anish’s new book)

There are a number of legendary hikers who have staked a claim to their fame by walking the PCT. Heather ‘Anish’ Anderson joined that PCT pantheon in 2013 when she completed the PCT in an incredible 60 days, 17 hours, and 12 minutes as a self-supported hiker (breaking Scott Williamson’s mark by four days). I remember following the news of her last days as she approached the Canada border and feeling a sense of awe that anyone could average over 44 miles every day for two months facing the challenges of the PCT.

It was no fluke. ‘Anish’ has walked a ‘Double Triple Crown’ (finishing the PCT, AT, and CDT twice) and holds several speed records including the Arizona Trail (2016) and the women’s self-supported record for the AT (2015). She has written her story in a book that has just been published by the Mountaineers Books (https://www.mountaineers.org/books/books/thirst-2600-miles-to-home)

Although the thread that binds the book together is Anish’s account of her 2013 PCT hike, she draws from a number of her experiences. Below is a short excerpt. Later we will publish an interview with Heather and a review of the book.

MISSION CREEK, CALIFORNIA

DAY 8 / 44 MILES

I stood in disbelief for several moments. The creek was bone dry. After I turned on my phone and waited for it to check my location, I could feel my stomach churning and sinking. I already knew that I was in deep trouble.

A few seconds later, Halfmile’s app confirmed my fears. The scorching heat of June in Southern California had rendered the crowdsourced water report, updated by Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) thru-hikers, out-of-date in just a few weeks. The muddy ground I’d crossed a mile before was the last “flowing” water in Mission Creek for miles. Nearly out of water, all that stretched before me was exposed canyon and thousands of feet of elevation gain in the middle of the day.

I wanted to cry. Either I would have to backtrack several miles to the last creek bed with reliable water or climb onward into the afternoon sun without anything to drink. Neither option was good.

It was a gamble to walk away from sure water, but it would be a waste of precious time and strength to go backward. Only eight days into my attempt to set the Fastest Known Time (FKT) on the PCT, I already felt like I was fighting a losing battle. “Reliable” water sources were turning out to be dry, and I kept underestimating how much water I needed to carry. No matter how much I thought I’d drink, I always needed more.

Demoralized by the thought of going backward, I put my phone away and stubbornly turned up-canyon. “There must be water up ahead somewhere,” I said aloud.

After another hour of hiking in the triple-digit heat without water, my head was swimming. It was 80 at dawn. This is why no one hikes through Southern California on the PCT in June. There were supposed to be two more water sources between the dry crossing of Mission Creek and the spring at the head of the canyon, so I kept plodding onward, trying not to think about death by heatstroke or dehydration.

My throat became so dry it was difficult to swallow. I pulled out a stick of gum and chewed until saliva flowed and eased the discomfort. When that piece of gum became hard, I put another in my mouth. For the next hour I chain chewed gum, but eventually even my salivary glands dried up.

Feeling wobbly, I berated myself for not drinking more water the day before. For not carrying more from Ziggy and the Bear’s house. For not drinking more from the first Mission Creek crossing. On and on, I identified ways I could have prevented this precarious death march through a desolate canyon in the heat.

A strange plant blocked my path. It had a profusion of pinkish blossoms and an odd, skunky odor. My brain was slow trying to comprehend it, but something in the back of my mind told me to stop. I stood there numbly in front of the alien plant until my brain caught up with my instinct . . .

Poodle dog bush.

I had forgotten all about it in my desperate march toward water. In fact, I didn’t even know I might encounter it here. Poodle dog bush has a surface irritant related to poison ivy, yet far more potent. Many people have intense reactions and even need to be hospitalized after contact. Often one of the first plants to revegetate after a forest fire, poodle dog bush had covered several large, recent burns along the PCT. Its potential for aggressive reactions made it something of a boogeyman for aspiring thru-hikers, spawning dozens of online discussions. It scared me so much, I’d marked the locations on my maps. But I didn’t recall anyone mentioning it in Mission Creek.

In a daze, I found a stick and pushed the branches aside. I climbed up loose sand and skirted the bush without touching its potentially dangerous leaves. Once past, I saw that the majority of the plants grew only on the slopes above and below the trail. Thankfully . . .

Not long after, I entered a beautiful stretch of canyon lined with cottonwood trees. I’d seen their crowns from a distance and had been striving toward them. Cottonwoods always mean water. This had to be the next source.

I left the trail and walked straight up the sandy creek bed. A slick water mark staining the sand made my heart leap with joy. I followed it to a slight overhang along the bank, expecting to find a clear, cold pool.

Instead, I found a small puddle of water with an enormous pile of horse shit in it.

Devastated, I returned to the PCT and shuffled onward. I was so angry. How could the only bit of water for miles be completely contaminated by a horse? I consoled myself by thinking that even if I had wanted to scoop from it, it was too shallow. As I climbed away from the trees and into the sun again, the headache I’d had for hours grew worse until I couldn’t think at all. I could no longer fight the urge to sit. My legs folded beneath me without permission and I crumpled into the sand in the middle of the trail. Thin shade from some scraggly bushes seemed like an immense blessing.

I reached for my phone again and turned it on before sinking backward against my pack, reclining on the trail. When my location appeared, I realized I was still several miles from the spring at the head of the canyon.

I lay there in the middle of the trail for what seemed like an eternity. I pondered whether to wait for the coolness of night to continue, but decided that I would likely be in worse shape after seven hours in the heat, with moisture constantly escaping every pore of my body. I needed to get up and keep walking, yet I felt too drained and too defeated by the circumstances.

There was only one obvious answer.

I pulled out my SPOT tracking beacon and opened the cover on the SOS button. All I had to do was push it and help would come. Local emergency personnel would receive my coordinates almost instantly. They would bring me fluids. Fly me to safety. I would sleep in a cool room and eat and drink until my body recovered. I wouldn’t have to walk anymore. I could forget that I’d ever attempted this.

“I might die of thirst out here,” I said to the orange SPOT in my hand.

Excerpted with permission from Thirst: 2600 Miles to Home (Mountaineers Books, March 2019) by Heather “Anish” Anderson.

#speed record #Mission Creek #water #Ziggy and Bear #poodle dog bush

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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 6 years

Text

Life Lessons. 1/3

Nursery class teacher Namjoon x social worker Y/N(reader) fluffish thing???

Warning; Revolving around child abuse but the act itself will not be depicted, just discussed.

“Aren't you a little young to be a social worker?" He eyed you suspiciously as if you were going to tell him you knew the secret to the location of the fountain of youth.

"Aren't you a little young to be a teacher?" You retorted and a grin stretched his cheeks.

"Touche."

Blue and purple blossoms stained young, innocent skin day in day out hidden usually by layers of clothing. But on this day the little boy had spilt the juice that accompanied his mid-morning snack on his trousers. Of course, he couldn't be left in the wet, sticky item and he cried oh he cried with wailing screams when class assistant Maelyn fought to change him into clean trousers the nursery kept for such incidents. Maelyn, upon spotting the unforgiving bruises, instantly called for teacher Namjoon, in charge of the class of four-year-olds. Ever since Namjoon couldn't get the image of such tender innocent skin bruised so severely.

It was only an hour later that you arrived. Maelyn was the one to greet you as Namjoon was deep into an activity with the abused boy, trying to keep the little one calm and happy for as long as possible.

"All over his legs, you said?" You asked, eyeing the child for any signs of neglect.

"Yes, he made a fuss about me removing his clothing. I wonder if there's more." She replied with a deep frown. She had after all been working with the child for over a year already but before today hadn't suspected foul play active in his young life.

You only hummed agreeing. Although you knew from experience that even though it was incredibly likely he had more markings on his pale skin, he was no doubt scared of someone finding the bruises. No doubt his abuser had threatened him to keep the secret and the poor child was terrified of what fate letting the secret out would bring upon him.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to forget what you knew and just observe his behaviour. Watching him play with the man beside him, he seemed like any other child. There wasn't any fear or hesitance as he rolled out the playdough to make shapes and show them proudly to the man. His eyes shone brightly with joy and excitement only a child could have and it confused you. Usually, in such cases as these, the child's light would've dimmed, not necessarily extinguished already as children have the remarkable ability to bounce back and forgive, but the burning fire of childish innocence and wonder always dulled. But this little boy, he shone bright like every other child in the room, if not a little brighter due to the one on one attention he was gaining from the staff member.

As if sensing your presence, Namjoon slowly lifted his gaze to meet yours. He gave a small, polite smile of greeting before turning back to the child not wanting to lose the creative streak he had going. Already the boy had made a tortoise, elephant, robot and of course the classic snake from the dough. Every time, Namjoon praised him for his skill and imagination, even if he himself had to stretch his own creative thoughts to understand the form the mass of misshaped dough in the small hands took on.

"Is there anything I can get you?" Maelyn asked after allowing you to observe and make notes in your notebook for ten minutes silently.

"You have files on the children? Progress and such?" You asked, eyeing her questioningly. She nodded immediately. "I'd like his one please."

"Yes yes of course." She didn't hesitate to agree to your request and rushed off to the office to comply with your wishes.

While left alone, you took it upon yourself to sit down at the little table pushed to the back of the room out of the way. It had a pencil pot full of coloured crayons in the centre with a neat stack of colouring pages. Clearly, it was a quiet-time table but none of the children felt the need to use it. They were all too busy running around with toys and swiping splodges of various colours paints onto paper and calling it a masterpiece.

Your seat gave you view of the little boy without being too close to cause him any discomfort if he noticed your presence.

Only a further five minutes later his file was on the table in front of you and Maelyn had left upon request of a little girl to play hairdressers with her group of friends.

The quiet time gave you time to read through the file carefully to pick up any hints of neglect. It started with his name and date of birth.

Choi Jaehyuk 15/06/2013

Instantly the date confused you. His birthday was only two weeks away and then he would be five. That meant he was in the age bracket above this nursery class. He should've already been in the reception class.

"Why is he here?" You murmured, scanning the page quickly for an answer to your question. You found it as a handwritten note at the bottom. "Started nursery late. Kept in the lower age class." You read aloud quietly. It made sense but it didn't fully sate you. Many children started nursery late but they were rarely kept back with the lower aged class due to it. There was always a special circumstance that left them there but so far, you hadn't seen anything in Jaehyuk's file to specify that particular reason.

Maybe you had missed the explanation, you reasoned. So you read back through much slower and more precisely the second time.

Even after reading the entire thin file three times through, you found no answer.

"Strange." Still sat on the small chair designed for children, you turned to locate the boy again. He was still happily playing with the playdough and that surprised you. Most children grow bored quickly but he was relentlessly moulding the dough into different forms each one more daring and complex than the last, not that you could tell what his imagination was seeing in the clump before him.

Quickly, you located Maelyn and returned the file to her. "I would appreciate if you could forward me a copy of this file to my office." You informed.

"Of course, I'll do it right now." She excused herself from the group she played with to do as you requested. The children looked at you curiously so you offered a friendly smile. They all smiled back, satisfied your presence wasn't sinister before turning their attention back to their game.

Carefully, you made your way over to Jaehyuk and the staff that still sat with him.

Namjoon looked up at you and offered you a dimpled smile. REalising someone else had his precious teacher's attention, Jaehyuk too looked up at you. You smiled down at him and he smiled back cautiously.

That was the first sign he had given that displayed anything that could cause suspicion. Of course, many children were unsure of new people, especially adults, so you didn't note it as a telltale sign of anything being amiss.

"Hi, I'm Y/N." You greeted, lowering your body to be at eye level with Jaehyuk in an attempt to make him feel more at ease with you. "I see you're a very creative one, aren't you?" You smiled, tilting your head. He looked away nervously. "Can I play with you? We can make much bigger things with three pairs of hands." You suggested. The proposition intrigued Jaehyuk so he looked at you curiously. "What's your favourite animal?"

"Lion." He answered quietly.

"Ah, that's a great animal!" You enthused grinning at him. His lips turned up into a small smile. "I think we can make a brilliant lion between us." He looked eager to try so you continued. "Shall we try it?" He nodded and you smiled in both relief and victory. You were afraid he wouldn't open his heart to you as many abused children had problems doing so but he was welcoming you easily.

Jaehyuk reached to the chair tucked into the table on his left and pulled it out. "You can sit here." He offered quickly standing to lean over the table and open more of the little pots of coloured dough.

"Thank you." You sat down and looked at the staff who was already looking at you, a soft smile on his features. Realising your eyes were on him, pink dusted his cheeks and he scratched his neck awkwardly.

"I'm Namjoon, I'm the teacher in charge of the second year class." He announced, extending his arm out to you.

"Nice to meet you." You spoke, shaking his hand, not missing how his long fingers enveloped your smaller hand easily. From the corner of your eye, you saw Jaehyuk looking between yourself and Namjoon, wondering who you really were. "I'm a friend here to play." You announced, not wanting to scare the little boy with your job title, even if you suspected he wouldn't know what it meant.

Satisfied with your answer, Jaehyuk turned back around to continue emptying pots onto the table.

"Well, we love having new friends," Namjoon replied and your hands returned to their owners. "Don't we, Jaehyuk?" The little boy only nodded, too absorbed in his task to verbalise his agreement.

***

By the time the lunch break arrived, Jaehyuk was comfortable enough to talk animatedly with you and show you around, pointing out the names of his friends and inviting you to join them. It gave Namjoon a break to interact with other children without concern Jaehyuk's fear would return.

When the children sat down to eat, you took the chance to talk to his teacher.

Namjoon smiled when you approached him where he stood aside watching over the children to make sure they all had their lunches and were sat eating nicely.

"Thank you for calling us straight away." Were the first words you spoke, careful to keep your voice quiet so the conversation would stay between you. "We've had a lot of cases where school staff have waited to call us in."

"Oh no, I couldn't leave him like this." His eyebrows furrowed and a frown tugged his lips down as he thought about how Jaehyuk must be suffering daily. "I just wish we noticed sooner. I hope it hasn't been going on too long."

"Me too. He's such a lovely kid."

"He really is." Namjoon beamed proudly, it was as if you were talking about his own son. Clearly, the teacher cared deeply about his students and it made you smile fondly. "It's my lunch break now so if you'd like to talk, I'm going to the store. You're welcome to join."

"That would be great." You agreed, eager to have the time to talk freely with him without any of the children overhearing.

"Alright children!" Namjoon called drawing their attention. "I'll be back soon and it's Friday so you know what that means is in store for this afternoon." He grinned when the children started to yell excitedly.

"Special snack!" Various young voices shouted and Namjoon chuckled.

"Yep, special snack day! So eat all of your lunch and be good for Miss Maelyn and Miss Lea while I'm gone."

"Is Miss Y/N going to play with us more after lunch?" A little girl named Aileen asked hopefully.

"Ah, I hope so." Namjoon looked at you, his eyes reflecting his words.

"Of course." You agreed instantly and multiple children cheered happily. Your attention was back to the students so you didn't notice the joyful smile spread Namjon's cheeks widen and deepen his dimples.

"We'll be back soon." Namjoon finalised and the children waved goodbye so you both left the room.

Namjoon quickly grabbed his jacket then the two of you were off.

"Is the store close?" You questioned not at all familiar with the area. "I have my car." You explained realising he didn't have any keys in his hand.

"Hm, yeah, less than a ten-minute walk."

"Ah okay." You nodded. "That's convenient."

"Yeah." He chuckled. "Have you made any thoughts on Jaehyuk?"

"He's a very welcoming child, I honestly wouldn't suspect foul play if you hadn't told me as much. I'm not at all surprised no-one picked up on it earlier."

"I'm glad even a social worker didn't notice. Wait! That sounded horrible! I just meant I'm glad that we didn't miss obvious signs. I really don't mean to sound like I want harm to come to him or any child for that matter." He rambled.

"It's okay, I know what you meant." You laughed lightly. He relaxed.

"But speaking of, aren't you a little young to be a social worker?" He eyed you suspiciously as if you were going to tell him you knew the secret to the location of the fountain of youth.

"Aren't you a little young to be a teacher?" You retorted and a grin stretched his cheeks.

"Touche." You both laughed lightly. "This is only my first year. I was an assistant at another school last year." He explained simply and you hummed in understanding.

"Oh, that reminds me actually about something I saw in Jaehyuk's file."

"Yeah?"

"He'll be five soon. He should already be in reception."

"Ah yeah, he started late and was painfully shy and behind on everything. I think for a moment they suspected neglect at home, he could barely speak and didn't make eye contact, from what I heard."

"But...we had no record of Choi Jaehyuk, I checked before leaving the office. There's not even anything bad about his dad. No police record, no sign of social being involved before today." Namjoon frowned.

"I know, they didn't get anyone involved because they met the father and had no worries. Jaehyuk's dad is a nice guy like, normal, but maybe it's an act, I don't know. I'm kind of hoping he's an incredibly clumsy kid that bruises easily but...those aren't ordinary bruises."

"The important thing is that you didn't hesitate to call. We can't change what is in the past but we can do everything in our power to make sure his future is better." You ensured, putting a reassuring hand on Namjoon's arm for only a moment in fear of walking into the people passing you both on the path.

"Yeah, I suppose." Slowly, he nodded in agreement but his deep frown didn't leave.

Honestly, you hated seeing such a kind man with such a sad look. Usually, you never much cared about the people surrounding the child you were sent to check up on. Of course, you checked to make sure they showed no signs of abuse themselves both giving and receiving but other than that, your priority was the child. But something about Namjoon stirred up your insides and sent your heart plummeting when he looked so incredibly affected and in pain.

Usually, you'd continue to discuss the child and ignore any internal crisis the adult you were talking to faced except for maybe handing out a tissue or sympathetic pat of the hand to their shoulder, but Namjoon had you blowing all your usual methods and procedures out of the water and plunging in heart first.

"So, special snack day?" You asked, hoping to steer the topic to something that would bring back that beautiful dimpled smile you had already grown so fond of.

Physically you could see Namjoon's mood pick back up. His back straightened and his head lifted. His eyes danced with excitement instead of swirling with pain as his mind rushed with worst-case scenarios and guilt in regards to the little boy with the sweetest smile. When Namjoon looked at you with his lips curved upwards, your heart shot back into place and thudded against your ribs.

"Every Friday I give them something special, for being so good all week."

"They're always so good?"

"We have a few slip-ups as expected with children but for the most part, they're the most loving well-behaved bunch of children and I'm honestly going to be sad to see them go in a few months. I'm tempted to try and sneak into the school as their reception teacher." He admitted with a blush and shy laugh.

"That's really sweet." You commented. His blush darkened and he suddenly couldn't meet your gaze. "I get the feeling you feel like they're you're children, it certainly comes across that way at least."

"Yeah, I do...Is that weird?" His expression twisted into one of concern. "Should I try harder not to see them that way? Maelyn says I'm too attached to them."

"I think it's wonderful. You care so deeply about them and they can feel it. Children can sense such things and they feed off it. They love you just as much in return. You get what you give with children their age." You informed even if you figured he probably knew as much. "Every child in that class looks at you with nothing but adoration. They idolise you, Namjoon."

"Ah, you really think so?" At your hum of confirmation, the brightest most joy-filled smile you had ever seen anyone wear spread his features.

Your heart thumped again and you knew in that moment that you were well and truly screwed.

I hope you guys like this, I’ll post a part every day so you won’t have to wait long for an update

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writsgrimmyblog · 7 years

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Ficlet: Straight Through Crew

Here’s the third of my Wednesday Night Drabbles/Ficlets which have turned into Thursday Ficlets. The first two are Chicken and Chips (Louis/Nick) and Always You (Harry/Nick) and there are a few more to come. This one is for the lovely @alligatornyc who left some amazing prompts for me to choose from. I tried to combine two of the prompts, Louis returns to Radio 1, Nick wears a track suit in his honor, and the booth pictures capture an unexpected soft moment between them and Nick and Louis are seated next to one another at the Brits. Cordon roasts them and dares them to kiss. I hope you enjoy it!

Straight Through Crew (Nick/Louis)

Content Warning: Hint at past Louis/Harry, straight Harry

“Evening, Louis Tomlinson.” Nick slips into the seat next to Louis and he reaches for a beer. “Looking lovely tonight.”

Louis narrows his eyes at Nick and takes in the blazer (velvet) the shirt (silk) and the hair (taller than the fucking Empire State). He rolls his eyes and has a drink. “Evening, mate.”

“You’re in the cheap seats tonight if they put you next to me.” Nick nudges Louis with his elbow. He’s all arms, legs and quiff. He’s loud, annoying and Louis doesn’t like him at all.

“Seems that way.” Louis gives Nick a smile. The sort of smile that says why the fuck are you wearing velvet? He turns his chair away from Nick and tries to hear what James Corden’s saying. Something funny, apparently. The crowd clap and holler and of course Nick’s turned up just in time to ruin a perfectly good joke. “You’re late. They’ve given out half the awards already.”

“Had another gig.” Nick leans forward and his breath is hot on Louis’ neck. Louis absolutely doesn’t shiver. “Going to straight through crew it tonight. Fancy coming on the radio tomorrow?”

“Pretty sure that’s not going to happen.” Christ, Louis needs another beer. Coming on the radio makes Louis think of Harry drunk and stupid, giggling with Nick about the air conditioning. He doesn’t need reminding of that, thanks. Not when Harry’s up for three awards tonight and Louis is stuck next to Nick bloody Grimshaw in a suit that itches around the collar. He used to love the Brits. These days they just remind him of the things he used to have.

“Might be fun.” Nick sounds like he’s shrugging. “We’ll have pizza.”

“Well, if there’s pizza.” Louis turns his eyes to the ceiling. It’s dark, covered with pin-point lights that make it look like they’re underneath the stars. “Shut up. I’m trying to listen.”

Nick mutters something about Louis being a dick and Louis pointedly ignores him. James is on good form tonight. He’s in his element and people are lapping it up.

“He’s good, isn’t he?”

Clearly Nick doesn’t understand the concept of shutting up and Louis gives up trying to focus, turning back to look at Nick. “Yeah, he’s good. Also, why the fuck are you talking to me?”

Nick raises his eyebrows at Louis. “Because we’re mates?”

Louis laughs. “Yep. Great mates. When’s my birthday?”

“I don’t fucking know.”

“What’s my number?”

“No idea. Why don’t you give it to me?” Nick tips his head to one side and he gives Louis a wide grin. There’s something predatory about it and it makes Louis strangely hot.

“Because I don’t want you to start sending me a thousand pictures of your dogs and posh friends. Get enough of that on Instagram.” Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Louis doesn’t follow Nick on Instagram. Not that he knows of, anyway.

“Been creeping on my social media, Louis?” Nick sounds delighted. He’s probably going to go on about it on the radio tomorrow.

“You wish,” Louis mutters. The crowd goes quiet and the notes from a familiar song filter through the room. Harry. Louis needs a fag but he can’t get up in the middle of Harry’s performance. He can just imagine the tabloids having a field day with that. He pulls the bucket of booze closer and gets out the Grey Goose, pouring himself a shot.

“Give us one, then.”

“Get your own.” Louis glances at Nick’s outstretched glass and pours, despite his words.

“Does it bother you?”

“What?”

“Watching Harold up there.” Nick doesn’t sound like he’s taking the piss. He sounds genuinely curious and a bit too fond when he says Harry’s name. “Not sure I’d be able to listen to all of those love songs about someone else.”

The air around Louis gets cold and he stares at Nick. “What?”

“You and Harry.” Nick waves his hand. “Bit of thing, wasn’t it? Back in the day.”

Harry can’t have told Nick that. Not when it was all Louis, trying something in a moment of madness that Harry shut down after a few sloppy kisses and an awkward hand job. It wasn’t anything. Louis isn’t even out to many people and he definitely isn’t out to Nick.

“He told you?” Louis can hardly speak he’s so furious and Nick gives him a curious look.

“I’m teasing, darling. Talking about the fans thinking you two were love’s young dream.”

Louis’ racing heart slows and he doesn’t realise how tightly he’s gripping his glass until he follows Nick’s gaze to his white knuckles and his clenched fist on the table.

“Oh.” Louis knows his voice shakes around the edges. “Good one, mate.”

“Louis.” Nick’s voice is soft and uncertain. “I didn’t mean-”

“Let’s just listen, yeah?” Louis turns back to the stage and he stares at the brightest light to the left of Harry’s ear until he gets stars in his eyes and the dull noise in his head replaces the sound of Harry singing about a woman Louis doesn’t know.

* * *

“I’m over here with Grimmy and Louis Tomlinson.” James makes his way through the crowd, stopping next to Nick. He’s grinning, like he’s going to say something Louis really isn’t going to like. “Remember when you sat on my lap and pretended to my evil cat, Louis?”

“Remember it well, James.” Louis gives the camera a smile and tries to ignore the way his heart thuds in his chest.

“Remember when I sat on your lap and snogged you, Grimmy?” James points the microphone at Nick who seems far more relaxed than Louis – completely nonplussed.

“Highlight of the Brit Awards 2013.” Nick grins at James. “We snogged again, if you remember. I begged you to leave your wife. You rejected me in front of the nation.”

“I remember.” James laughs and he looks between Louis and Nick. No, Louis thinks. Please no. “So I’ve sat on Grimmy’s lap and Louis’ been on my lap…I think Grimmy needs to get on Louis’ lap and give him a snog.”

Louis twists his hands and gives Nick a pleading look, hoping his discomfort isn’t clear on camera.

“I think he’d be better in my lap.” Nick gives Louis a wink. “That’s how I always imagined it.”

The crowd whoop and laugh and Louis wants to crawl under the table. James shoves the mic back in Louis’ face. “What do you reckon, Louis?”

Louis stares at Nick and tries to block out the crowd. If he says no everyone’s going to think he’s not able to take a joke. If he says yes…

He takes a breath and he slips from his seat into Nick’s lap. He cups Nick’s jaw in his hand and gives him a peck on the lips as the crowds cheer, the cameras pan away and James moves on. Louis hopes Nick can’t feel the tremble running through his body. Nick’s arms are firm around Louis’ waist and he squeezes them tighter just for a minute.

“Fancy coming out for a cig?”

“Might as well.” Louis moves awkwardly from Nick’s lap and follows him outside.

* * *

“I didn’t mean anything earlier. I was trying to be funny. I really didn’t know about Haz.” Nick looks into the distance, taking a drag on his cigarette.

“Doesn’t matter.” Louis lights a cigarette and breathes out the smoke with a slow exhale. “There’s not really anything to tell. It was one time and even then, it wasn’t much.”

“Isn’t Harry straight?” Nick says, quietly.

“Pretty much.” Louis looks up and meets Nick’s eyes. “It’s me that maybe isn’t.”

“Okay.” Nick nods. He takes another puff on his cigarette. “Seeing anyone?”

“No.” Louis glances at Nick. He’s not entirely sure why Nick wants to know that of all things. “Planning to make fun of my love life, Nick?”

“Would be a bit much coming from me.” Nick stubs out his cigarette and he faces Louis. His eyes drop to Louis’ lips and up again. “Just wondered if you maybe fancied giving that last kiss another go. I think I got performance anxiety.”

Louis stares at Nick. He’s tall, annoying, he’s wearing fucking velvet and Louis strongly suspects those birds on his shirt are flamingos. He’s loud, ridiculous and he doesn’t even know how to shut the fuck up when someone tells him.

“Shut up.”

“Fine, I just thought I’d-”

Louis cuts Nick off by dragging him into the shadows, shoving him against a wall and pressing their lips together. Nick turns them so Louis is the one pressed against the wall and he slides one hand into Louis’ hair. He wraps his arm around Louis’ waist and he’s warm and solid against Louis. The kiss is slow and then fast, deep and urgent as Nick presses against Louis. It’s a much better kiss than the earlier peck on the lips and Nick smells good. Even the velvet doesn’t seem so offensive, when Nick’s mouth’s works over Louis’ and he gets to stroke his hands over Nick’s back and tug him closer.

Nick is the first to pull back, giving Louis a dark stare. “That’s one way to shut me up.”

Louis grins. “Thought it might be.”

Nick gives Louis another kiss, slower this time. “Sure I can’t convince you to stay out? Might be fun.”

Louis lets out a breath and then shrugs. “Might as well. I’m not doing the radio, though.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Nick smiles at Louis. “As long as I get another snog.”

“You’ll get more than that if you play your cards right.” Louis winks at Nick and makes his way back inside.

Nick talks to Louis through the whole fucking show, but Louis can’t say he minds.

* * *

Louis does the radio after all. All he really wants to do is stay in Nick’s bed and cuddle up to one of Nick’s amazing dogs, but Nick gives him this look and it makes Louis feel like a dick for refusing.

“It’s only fair. It’s your fault I didn’t get anyone else to come in.”

“How the fuck is it my fault?” Louis really isn’t good in the mornings. He made Nick order his Uber early so they could get a McDonalds breakfast and a large cup of coffee which Louis has been nursing on the drive to the studios.

“How the fuck isn’t it?” Nick leans in so the driver doesn’t hear him. “Too busy making you want to come home with me to bother chatting to anyone else.”

Louis elbows Nick in the side, smiling around his coffee as he takes a sip. “Well at least something worked out for you.”

“Something worked out for you, too.” Nick winks at Louis. He looks far too smug for this time in the morning.

Louis’ cheeks heat. “Shut up, Nicholas. Eat your McDonalds.”

Nick munches thoughtfully on a hash brown. “I wore a tracksuit to make you feel at home.”

“Thanks, mate.” Louis rolls his eyes. Thank fuck they had time to stop at his. Doing the walk of shame in last night’s suit really wouldn’t have been a good idea.

“You doing anything after the radio?” Nick tries to sound casual but Louis can tell he’s nervous.

Louis pointedly looks Nick up and down without saying a word.

“Oh,” Nick says. His smile gets even wider.

* * *

“Nicholas.” Louis swallows as he stares at the picture Nick’s posted on Instagram.

“What?” Nick comes into the room, carrying two cups of tea. He puts one on each side of the bed and collapses onto it, grabbing Louis’ phone to see what he’s looking at. “Oh. The Instagrim pictures from this morning. Good, innit?”

Louis stares at the two of them. There’s one picture where Louis is looking up at Nick and he’s laughing. His eyes are bright and he’s pretending to push Nick away. Louis hasn’t been pictured laughing like that in ages and he looks light and carefree, shoving Nick around. Then there’s the last picture. The one where Nick’s looking at Louis. For once he’s not pulling a stupid face and his gaze is soft and warm. He’s smiling as if Louis has taken him by surprise. He looks so unexpectedly fond, it makes Louis’ heart thrum in his chest.

“Yeah. Good.”

“I got you a proper copy if you want. It’s downstairs.”

“Thanks.” Louis stares at Nick. He wonders if Nick sees everything Louis does in the photos. They’re on display again with everyone watching - just like the kiss at the Brits. It terrifies him. “Nick?”

“Louis.” Nick takes the phone and puts it next to the bed. He seems to sense the panic radiating from Louis and he tugs Louis close. “Shut up.”

“But-”

Nick kisses Louis firmly and it’s a long time before Louis can start worrying about the photos again.

#my fic #tomlinshaw #wednesday night drabbles

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humans4feminism-blog · 6 years

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Beyonce and Feminism

Beyonce is a female artist that has dominated the entertainment industry and continues to do so. Being a black woman, she has encountered obstacles reaching the top but has fought her way through. Beyonce’s feminism has appeared in her songs in the past but has always been a message that has simply hinted at her feminist nature, rather than just straight forwardly calling herself a feminist. In 2008, she released her album “I am Sasha Fierce” which contained her hit song “If I were a Boy” in which she talks about the gender bias behind adultery. In her 2011 album “4″, she sang about female empowerment in the song “Run the World”. In 2013, Beyonce’s hit song “Flawless” marks a deep commitment and support for the feminist movement. Beyonce included an excerpt from Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s ‘We Should All Be Feminists’ speech:

We teach girls to shrink themselves

To make themselves smaller

We say to girls

"You can have ambition

But not too much

You should aim to be successful

But not too successful

Otherwise you will threaten the man"

Because I am female

I am expected to aspire to marriage

I am expected to make my life choices

Always keeping in mind that

Marriage is the most important

Now marriage can be a source of

Joy and love and mutual support

But why do we teach girls to aspire to marriage

And we don't teach boys the same?

We raise girls to each other as competitors

Not for jobs or for accomplishments

Which I think can be a good thing

But for the attention of men

We teach girls that they cannot be sexual beings

In the way that boys are

Feminist: the person who believes in the social

Political, and economic equality of the sexes

Having this excerpt as part of her song not only solidified Beyonce as a feminist, but also delivered a very important message to the millions of listeners that enjoy Beyonce’s music. Adichie mentions many of the important elements of feminism in her speech. She speaks about the issue behind successful women. There is the false notion that a powerful woman undermines a powerful man, when instead a powerful woman should be of admiration and respect for fellow successful men and people. She also speaks about gender roles and expectations for women. She says, “Because I am female, I am expected to aspire to marriage. I am expected to make my life choices always keeping in mind that marriage is the most important...”. This holds much truth to it because women are absolutely expected to hold off on a career and their dreams because marriage is the most significant event in a woman’s life. A single woman with a career is often times viewed negatively because it means she chose a career over a man and this somehow makes her incomplete. This can be tied to Peggy Orenstein’s “Anything is Possible” where a woman she was speaking to shares her fears and discomfort over the pressure to be married before chasing anything else. She shares, “I never wanted to get married myself, and I’d like to be more satisfied than I actually am being single...I feel pressures I never thought I’d feel: that I should be in a relationship, and what’s wrong with me if I’m not...It’s frightening” (pg.33/99). Adichie then asks why we teach girls to have these dreams and not boys? Our society is conditioned to let boys and men roam every corner of the world and find themselves. Girls, on the other hand, are “at-home” beings who must be submissive and are simply living in a man’s world. Finally, Adichie mentions that our society teaches girls that they can’t be sexual beings the way that boys are. This is the issue in our society when it comes to men and women being sexual beings. Women’s bodies are seen like property of men to sexualize and objectify. A woman, however, can not have control over her own sex life. A woman does not have the same sexual freedom that men have. Women are judged by their attire, blamed for sexual assault due to their behavior, shamed when they enjoy sex, humiliated when they don’t have sex, and are told what to do with their bodies by human beings that are not women.

It was important for Beyonce to claim her feminist identity and air out the dirty injustices society commits against women. However, she received some backlash for this loud identification with the feminist movement. People began to claim that she couldn’t possibly be a feminist because her music, performances, videos, and media were highly sexualizing. People were trying to discredit her feminism due to the way she expresses her own version of feminism. Sexual freedom and the ability to have some sexually charged lyrics and performances were her way of exercising the artistic freedom that male rappers, singers, and artists were all exercising already. There is no “perfect feminism”. As Roxanne Gay in “Bad Feminist” claims, “We hold feminism to an unreasonable standard where the movement must be everything we want and must always make the best choices” (pg.xi/32). Beyonce can very well be a “bad feminist” or doing feminism her way instead of the way that people expect. There is no perfect feminism and judging other women for the way they “do” feminism is going against feminism itself. It is going against women making their own choices, whether they go against or for the standards set out by the patriarchy.

I personally see Beyonce as an inspiration to women everywhere. She shows that not only women, but women of color can achieve their dreams. Her music also empowers women to be strong, feel independent, and feel sure of themselves. And by exercising her version of feminism, she shows us, as women, that we too can be seuxally free and open if we want to be. We are allowed to feel sexy and identify with sexual lyrics if we so desire.

-AA

11/18/17

#beyonce #feminism #feminist #flawless

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polyrolemodels · 7 years

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Critical Polyamorist

1. How long have you been polyamorous or been practicing polyamory?

I’ve been polyamorous for over four years, since January 2013. As an anthropologist who is also an Indigenous Studies researcher, I read and did much research on the subject during 2012 before deciding to take on polyamory. The experience has turned out to be a self-reflexive, Indigenous standpoint, auto-ethnographic research project. This means I engaged in practice-based (polyamorous dating/loving) research in my own relationships and life. I wrote about this method of relating and inquiring in my December 2015 blog post, “Critical Polyamory as Inquiry & Social Change,” http://www.criticalpolyamorist.com/homeblog/critical-polyamory-as-inquiry-social-change. I guess I felt a need to really understand in a deep way and to theorize, this new form of relating to love and lovers.

2. What does your relationship dynamic look like?

In standard terminology I would be called “solo poly.” I was separated from my ex-husband for two years before it dawned on me that I might be inherently non-monogamous. I have never had to open a primary relationship. I live with my daughter and none of my partners. I don’t have a drive to nest with anyone besides her. My work and my daughter are the center of my world. But I also have a lot of love to give and so having 2 regular partners (with lovers in other places that I see when the opportunity arises, i.e. usually through work travel) who are either single, solo polyamorous, or in an open marriage has worked best for me. Although I don’t think the terms “solo” or “single” adequately describe me. I don’t feel single at all. I get my human connection needs met in partial ways by multiple people—family, friends, lovers, professional colleagues. All of these intimates are important in their own ways. One of the things I want to see more polyamorous people do is de-center the couple as primary. As an Indigenous person, de-centering the couple as more primary than all of those other types of important non-sexual relationships, is key to my non-monogamous practice. Couple-centricity is integral to the settler sexuality imposed on Indigenous and other people in the making of nation states organized around private property, compulsory monogamy, heteronormative (and more recently homonormative) state-sanctioned marriage. Ownership claims of land, bodies, and desires is integral to all of these institutions. I also wrote about this topic at greater length in my July 2014 blog post, “Couple-Centricity, Polyamory, and Colonialism,” http://www.criticalpolyamorist.com/homeblog/couple-centricity-polyamory-and-colonialism.

Regarding my romantic/sexual partner relationships, what I have come to learn is that I am most comfortable being with people who have another primary relationship or don’t desire one. My work is my life project, so it is not difficult for me to handle a partner who has to attend to primary partner and family responsibilities say five days a week and who only has one or two days a week for me. I found that part of marriage tedious—all the having to present in public as a normative couple and nuclear family. It clouded my desire and affection for my then husband and coparent. Polyamory taught me that I really do cherish him as a person. Marriage killed my desire and my emotional generosity. He was never the problem. I have learned that I really like not being a wife—that my love, affection, and desire grow and flourish outside the strictures of state-sanctioned marriage. I love much more generously now. So ethical non-monogamy is not only essential for me, but so is living outside of the marriage institution. I have also learned that I really value my partners’ other partners, who are usually women, as I tend to get into relationships with straight men. The most enjoyable relationships have involved me being able to be affectionate friends with the wives/partners of my lovers. I am a feminist, and I love my relationships and camaraderie with women. Also, I am not one to accord much legitimacy to the notion of “blood memory” that gets tossed around in Indigenous communities—the idea that we inherit from ancestors knowledge or inclinations that should be chalked up to social factors. But there is something that feels so right and natural about ethical non-monogamy to me and I come from a people that were non-monogamous before European and American colonization. Dakota men had multiple wives and the record that survives suggests that divorce was possible for both men and women, and women too could have multiple sexual relations. Gender was also more fluid and there was an element of choice involved. My ancestors were by all surviving accounts operating outside the heteronormative relationship and gender silos forced on us by the colonial US and Canadian states. The core value seemed to be that intimate relationships needed to support or at least not harm the broader tribal community. One can see how non-monogamy can serve the needs of an extended family and community. In retrospect, I have always been comfortable with multiple relationships, and with a sexuality that exceeds the boundaries of heterosexuality. I just didn’t have words to know and accept until the last few years what I’ve come to know about myself.

3. What aspect of polyamory do you excel at?

I excel at what polyamorists call “compersion,” or the ability to not feel jealousy but to take joy in the joys that my partners find in other partners. My particular take on compersion is shaped by my experience as an Indigenous person. I learned young, growing up in racist rural South Dakota, that I had to love and accept myself, whatever narratives of Native American inferiority were circulating around me. I decided at the age of 12 or 13 that I would never wish I was anyone but myself, that I should never envy another person or covet what they had, that anything I really wanted and should have should be something I could work toward on my own or with the opportunities and supports I did have. I decided that that no matter what others thought of me, I had to believe I was good enough. I eventually convinced myself of all of these things. To me, jealousy is undignified and a personal moral failing. It is not that jealousy never emerges inside me in embryonic form. But I do not let it flourish. I shut it down immediately. I also strive to be a very self-confident person. Part of how I do this is to focus on how I can be generous with others, including those who might prompt in me that embryo of jealousy. I turn the feeling of jealousy into one of giving. Deciding to give can result in a sincere feeling of generosity.

4. What aspect of polyamory do you struggle with?

I think I have two struggles in polyamory. Related to compersion, I have noticed that I feel short in sympathy or patience for a partner’s partner if that other partner—my metamour—is someone I perceive as less self-actualized and as somewhat insincere in their polyamorous intentions. For example, I’ve been in relationships with a couple of men where they started dating someone very new to open relationships—women who really struggled with jealousy and possessiveness, and who kept making monogamous-like demands even though they claimed to be open to polyamory. I perceived those other women as weak. I have a longstanding issue with people I perceive as weak in self-confidence, so this is not a struggle of mine that is isolated to non-monogamy. I think I felt somehow shortchanged that a partner I had so much respect and desire for would choose to spend their limited time on another partner who I perceived as lacking and un-self actualized. Both of those men eventually ended their relationships with me and with other polyamorous partners to pursue monogamous relationships with those same women. One exited a polyamorous life. I do think he was more monogamous in the end. The other quickly realized that he didn’t want to do monogamy after all, broke up with the monogamous partner, and resumed his polyamorous life, including his relationship with me. He had a good learning experience.

The second struggle took me a while to figure out. Initially I thought my discomfort was jealousy but I eventually figured out that it had more to do with a need for privacy. Twice now I have been in relationships where the wives of my partners ended up meeting and wanting to date another person I was also seeing. If this is confusing, the scenario was (aliases here) that I was seeing Michael. His wife Angela, who I adored and remain friends with to this day, met my other occasional partner, Morgan. Angela and Morgan wanted to start seeing each other. They asked me if it was okay. I was very uneasy. I figured out that I didn’t want to hear things about Michael and Angela from Morgan. And vice versa, I didn’t want Michael and Angela or Morgan to hear things about my life that didn’t come from me. It all felt too incestuous. But I was not jealous at all, I think. I simply said, “No problem, Angela and Morgan can see each other. They have my blessing.” I also did think that Angela and Morgan were a better fit than Morgan and I. And I ended the relationship with Morgan. I would never give someone an ultimatum. I just quickly made the decision to exit the less central relationship in my life. Morgan and I are still close friends and who knows, we might again become lovers if we were in the same city. Michael, ironically, is the person who eventually left all of us for a monogamous woman. LOL, polyamory!

5. How do you address and/or overcome those struggles?

I’m not sure I have overcome them in that I still very much have these same emotional and intellectual reactions to the scenarios I describe above. The best I can do is to keep calm, be less rather than more vocal about my misgivings of a partner’s other relationship choices, and if it comes to it let go with love and best wishes a partner who feels they need to nurture a relationship that I feel judgmental about or which precludes our relationship. One cannot hold tightly onto someone who feels the need to explore something else. My faithfulness to my own values and respect for the other person’s autonomy requires this kind of dignified letting go.

6. In terms of risk-aware/safer sex, what do you and your partners do to protect one another?

Since I’m solo poly, I rarely fluid bond. And if I do it is only with one partner at a time who is also only fluid bonded with me. Condoms are in all other cases a must. And I get tested with my annual exams (or more) for STIs just to ease my own mind, and my partners’. I am a risk assessment thinker. These strategies together and used consistently greatly lower one’s risk. Practiced polyamorous people are experts at safe sex. It’s the newbies (especially newly divorced people) I’ve sometimes had to educate.

7. What is the worst mistake you've ever made in your polyamorous history and how did you rebound from that?

It’s a polyamory cliché, but the worst mistake I’ve made was due to not communicating my feelings and to not taking things slowly enough. I had a tense meeting early on in one relationship where the wife of the person I was seeing was very uneasy with polyamory. She was okay with extra-marital sexual flings but her husband’s emotional engagement with me scared her. First, the three of us shouldn’t have tried to socialize together so soon and before she and her husband had worked out their agreement about how their open marriage should go. The second mistake was when I realized how tense things were that night and I became very uncomfortable and cut the night short too abruptly. I should have been more gracious and clear about my feelings. I could have stated my unease, acknowledged that we perhaps rushed things, and said gently that I think I should leave. I should have said how much I liked and appreciated them both. Instead (and I laugh now thinking how absurd my reaction was), I stood up after the main event (we were supposed to go to dinner afterwards) and said “Okay, thanks for inviting me. I think I’ll go home now.” And I turned around and walked away. The husband who I was seeing told me later that he felt so embarrassed and hurt. I think it was okay that I cut the evening short, but it was the manner in which I did it. I just wanted to get away so badly from the tension. We didn’t really recover. But that was not for my lack of apologizing or trying to make amends later. They could not agree on the nature of their open marriage. I hope they eventually found common ground.

8. What self-identities are important to you? How do you feel like being polyamorous intersects with or affects these identities?

I think I’ve already answered this question.

(Bonus: Do you have any groups, projects, websites, blogs, etc. that you are involved with that you would like to promote?)

I am the author of The Critical Polyamorist, a blog that addresses Indigenous, social, racial, and cultural politics related to ethical non-monogamy. It can be found at www.criticalpolyamorist.com. I am a Producer of Tipi Confessions (https://www.facebook.com/tipiconfessions/), the Edmonton-based sexy storytelling show modeled on the Austin, Texas original Bedpost Confessions show (www.bedpostconfessions.com). Our show is produced by four Indigenous women, and aims to indigenize the concept of sexy storytelling. However, many of our shows also welcome non-Indigenous storytellers and performers. Everyone is welcome in our tipi! In addition to Edmonton, we’ve done a show in Saskatoon and have an upcoming show in Vancouver in June 2017. If you’re interested in having us produce a show with artists in your location, e-mail us at [email protected].

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Support Inclusive Polyamorous Representation at https://www.patreon.com/PolyRoleModels

#polyamory #indigenous #solo poly #ethical nonmonogamy

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each-uisge · 7 years

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I'd be sorta disappointed if you were a lesbian because I've always looked up to you being ace =\\\

I’m sorry anon :(

I know this was probably inspired by the rambling notes in something I reblogged. I didn’t even know people read my notes, like, wow. Not gonna link to the post because I would like this to be the only place I even attempt to talk about any of this.

I’ve sat on this ask for about a day wondering how to tactfully say this. It’s under a cut, partly because it’s like incredibly personal word-vomit I’ve only half edited, and partly so I don’t spam my other followers with something I guess some people on this hell site would somehow call personal word-vomit ace discourse.

I’m not a lesbian.

But, I’m also not asexual.

Currently, I’m not even sure demisexual fits because is it a lack of sexual attraction before emotional connection(which in hindsight seems almost like another way for someone to opt out of expectations found unpleasant), or just feeling extremely uncomfortable at the thought of having sexual relations with someone I don’t 100% trust? What even is sexual attraction and do I experience it?

I think I personally used the label asexual to distance myself from dudes. Relationships terrified me because I knew that if I was in one, I would be expected to do something. Anything. Holding hands? Uncomfortable but at least bearable. Kissing? Literally the most disgusting thing I could think of. Anything farther than that I couldn’t even imagine because it sounded so unpleasant. When I found the asexual label, it was like a weight off my shoulders. I felt like someone had opened up a back door and let me out of an event that I’d never wanted to be in anyway. If someone wanted to date me after that, I could just loudly(obnoxiously, I apologize about anyone who knew me in like 2012-2013) tell them I was ace. No chance getting me in bed, asshole, I’m asexual! Don’t touch me, I’m asexual!

The obfuscation of things like compulsory heterosexuality, and, I guess, some kind of compulsory sexual participation of any kind, in the ace circles, meant I attached myself to a label that wasn’t accurate. The climate of the time, that I noticed as a sheltered nerd, was very feel-good. It’s your label if you choose it! Don’t be a gatekeeper, everyone belongs if they feel like they do! There wasn’t really any critical thinking of hey, maybe look into why you think this because that was somehow offensive and rude. It’s not rude to think critically about whether or not you are or aren’t something.

Now, I genuinely feel like every time I said I was asexual, I was lying. I was hiding from not just myself, but literally everyone around me, instead of just gaining some self confidence and a spine and giving myself the ability to just say no, fuck you, I don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have to be afraid of my own body.

Since I started actually looking deeper into myself, I’m more comfortable with my body. I’m more comfortable with a lot of things, actually.

In fact, I have an uncomfortable memory of, after coming out as ace(obnoxiously telling literally everyone, so as to really drive home the fact that I am stepping outside of what makes me uncomfortable), of hanging out with a female friend who we’ll call Jane. I was so comfortable! The expectations had left me! (for the most part, some dudes didn’t get it and kept bothering me). So when I spent the night at Jane’s house, I had loosened my expectations on myself. I looked at her with new eyes and thought to myself, I wonder if my romantic orientation isn’t as straight as I had thought. I mean, whatever. And to my emotional discomfort, I found myself 100% at ease with the idea of her physically touching me, whether that was platonic or sexual. It was Uncomfortable. I was uncomfortable. I really should have looked into myself and considered that maybe I’m not as asexual as I had thought then, but it wouldn’t happen until I started dating my current wife.

Am I saying I’m a lesbian? No. I really don’t think I am one. Am I saying I’m some kind of bisexual? Pansexual? Also no. I don’t know who or what I’m into, aside from my wife. I guess I’m still only really into people I definitely trust. Of course, that could just be called a sexual preference. You only want to fuck people who you’re close to? Preference, because sexual attraction does not equal obligation. I’m currently trying to muddle through whether or not I experience sexual attraction without thinking about it in the context of having sex with them right then and there. It’s hard. It’s kind of unpleasant to think about because I’m risking shifting my entire baseline of myself to somewhere else.

But at the same time, I’m tired of doing what feels lie lying to myself and others? Using demisexual means that it’s ok for me to say I want to have relations with my legal wife, but I don’t have to deal with invasive sexual shit outside of that. Of course, it’s only a placebo effect of that and the politeness of my friend circles. I believe that it protects me and I see only the ways it does. Everything that happens anyway is an outlier. My friends respect my demisexual or asexual boundaries and increase that placebo effect, even though I could have literally the exact same boundaries as literally any other orientation and they would, or rather, should, respect them exactly the same. The only thing I know for sure is that this is something that I am completely unwilling to talk about in detail to anyone, right now. I considered even ignoring this ask or being a snarky bitch about how my orientation is my business only just so I didn’t have to post any of this word-vomit.

I don’t know. I’m sorry my own questioning and possible relabeling of my orientation is disappointing to you. I’m genuinely apologetic about that. I know ace people are really hard to come across and happy asexual people to look up to are even fucking harder to find, especially since I think a few of them on tumblr are reaching my age bracket and are relabelling.

Just know that no matter what, you’ll be fine. Fuck anyone who says otherwise. I encourage you to become the asexual person to look up to, because then you don’t need someone to look up to who’s ace if you become that person instead. For as much as it’s worth, despite how much of a worthless meme it has become, asexual people are valid. Because, you’re perfect the way you are.

Someone doesn’t like what you are, or your boundaries or lived experiences? Fuck them!! Keep doing you. Someone thinks it’s stupid or that it can’t be real or you’ll just find the right person someday? Fuck them, but more!! You do eventually change labels like I have? Who the fuck cares, it’s your body and your experiences. You never change labels?? That’s great and I’m so happy for you!

I don’t know you. I don’t know if you know me through tergle dot dergle or IRL, or both. I’m genuinely sorry about disappointing you! But at the same time, I’ve gotta go risk having to rebuild my idea of self from the ground up. I wish you the best of luck in your life, anon.

#personal #asks #anonymous #ace discourse #wish i knew a label that fits me but i guess i've sat myself squarely in the Q for Questioning pile #the one everyone on this hell site forgets about #oh well!!#don't want to talk about it #Anonymous

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appleflavoredkitkats · 7 years

Text

Book of Mormon Fanfiction Recommendations (Mostly McPriceley)

These are my favorite Book of Mormon fanfictions. These are mostly McPriceley because most more than half of the fanfictions that the Book of Mormon archive has is McPriceley. This is a much bigger list than my other one. Extras at the end and if I find more in the future, check the notes.

Bold and italicized are my favorites.

I do not own any of these.

McPriceley

1. Little Syncopations

Five times Elder Price made matters terribly frustrating for Elder McKinley…well, sort of.

2. The Size of Orlando, Florida

“What are you keeping from me?” Elder McKinley asks. “I’m supposed to be your district leader, Ke- Elder, and I have to say you’re making it darn near impossible. I try to ask how you’re doing, I try to show you I’m there for you, I try to make sure you feel valued and supported by m- us, and you just… run away! Every single time, Elder! I’ve had enough of it! I will not let you leave this room until you feel cared for.”Kevin Price has everything under control… except for his inappropriate reaction to his district leader.

3. Saints of a Different Kind

Elder Price realizes he might have more than platonic feelings for Elder McKinley at a super inconvenient time. Also, he’s 100000% straight, so that makes no sense. Ignoring it should work! He will just sit there, consumed with lust for the rest of the evening.

4. just not telling the whole truth

That’s why Elder Price is safe to like, is safe to dote over, is safe to fantasize about, because he can learn to feel more comfortable with his – with his alternate thoughts, if you will, without any fear of his thoughts being reciprocated. Without his reoccurring fear that any close bond he forms with a man will crumble in on itself due to his own discomfort and self-hatred just like it did with Steve.He learns that he shouldn’t love boys years before he realizes he does, he learns that he doesn’t love himself years before he realizes he should, and he learns that he can do both less than one year after he meets Elder Price.

5. Settling for More

He wanted to kiss Kevin. He wanted to do more than just kiss Kevin.He couldn’t tell Kevin he wanted that.

6. Sing For Ourselves Alone

In which Connor is a flirty drunk and Kevin is a dork.

7. Of Pop Tarts And Elephants

In which there is a completely reasonable, heterosexual explanation for why Kevin can’t stop thinking about Elder McKinley. Also, the Game of Life is played.

8. Sardines

The Elders of District 9 decide to play a game of Sardines and end up packed into a closet and Kevin can’t keep his hands to himself.

9. Cookies and Confidences (Cunningham/Nabulungi)

Elder McKinley and Nabulungi talk about their boy problems.

10. As It Is

In a world where people’s first touches leave a spot of color on each others’ skin, some more vivid than other, Kevin has never given much thought to how and when he will receive his actual soulmate mark.

11. Rules Are Overrated

Elder McKinley twirls the feather between his fingers which, for some reason, spurs Elder Price into a choking fit. “May I ask what I was doing?”

Elder Price mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like, “More like who,” but he’s still coughing a little and Elder McKinley can’t be sure that he heard correctly.

(In which Elder McKinley finally finds out that he was in Elder Price’s hell dream).

12. miserably, honestly, imperceptively

“Does he make your heart kind of flutter?” Arnold asked one day.

Kevin felt like he couldn’t breathe as he choked out, “Yes.”

“Does he make your eyes sort of blur?” Nabulungi asked, on his other side.

Kevin closed them and said, “Oh no.”

13. Of Coffee and Kisses

Elder Price couldn’t sleep that night. Turns out, he wasn’t the only one.

14. A Minor Crisis

It was Elder McKinley’s birthday, and they did not have a cake.

15. Have You Tried Turning It Off And On Again?

It isn’t long after Elder Price and Elder Cunningham appear in Uganda that Connor McKinley realizes that Turning It Off is going to be a lot harder than it used to be.

16. 5 Times Elders Price and McKinley Accidentally Flirted With Each Other And One Time They Did It On Purpose

While Elder Price and Elder McKinley are both talented at many things, neither of them are adapt at flirting, especially not with each other.

17. Maybe

Caught in a violent storm during a shopping trip in town, Elder McKinley and Elder Price are forced to check in to a hotel overnight.

18. With a Sunflower Tie

“Connor waves him off, grinning in delight. ‘No, that’s fine, it’s just a little… well, unconventional. I kind of assumed you’d be more of a vanilla guy, but… wow, Kevin Price has a kink. I don’t suppose you want me to tie you up or anything while I’m at it?’

Holy crap. 'Geez, Connor,’ Kevin says, pressing one hand firmly to his crotch. 'You can’t just say things like that.’ He didn’t even know that was a turn on until it passed Connor’s lips.”

19. lean into the unexpected

Kevin remembers, when he was younger, being mesmerized by the idea of having a soulmate. Seeing his mother’s name in her neat script on his father’s wrist, just there all the time, made him want his own; every time he asked about it, he was always just met with a shrug and the same answer of “You’ll know eventually.” The thing was, he didn’t want to wait for eventually. He wanted to know now. He wanted that name to be there so he could start looking for her, but no adult would tell him anything.

20. Soul-Eater

"Shame is a soul-eating emotion.“ - Carl Jung

21. Graceful

Connor McKinley never really considered himself exceptionally graceful, but years of dance lessons had left a mark. A great sense of balance, good posture, quick reflexes – Connor didn’t realize how much he took it all for granted until the day Kevin Price walked into the mission hut and turned him into a clumsy oaf.

22. McPriceley Prompts

a collection of short one-shots inspired by this tumblr post I found (which I would link if I knew how to do that in an AO3 summary)

All of it is in the same universe (canon Uganda), but each prompt exists by itself.

23. Shifting Priorities

The Hell dreams have been getting worse. Ever since Kevin Price strode into Connor’s life, they’ve been getting worse, so bad that he resolves that the only solution is to stop sleeping.

It’s a temporary solution. Connor knew it wouldn’t last forever. He didn’t think, however, that Kevin would be by Connor’s side when he awoke from the Hell dream, didn’t think Kevin would care so much when he woke up screaming, or wonder why he was still crying.

He didn’t think anyone would care at all. He’s not sure he understands it.

24. In-Between

The Christmases of 2011-2013 are entirely different, yet never bad.

25. you’re my christmas present this year

Christmas in Uganda is… different, to Christmas at home.

26. A Portrait of Kevin Price as a Young Mormon

“Get lost,” says Connor, smiling. “We are nineteen years old, we have our whole lives ahead of us. Screw secure futures. It’s about here and now, right?”

Kevin nods. “Latter Day doesn’t mean afterlife, it means tomorrow.”

“Right,” Connor says. He hums to himself, a tune that Kevin doesn’t recognise. “Screw the past, too.” “Aye aye, Captain,” says Kevin. “Screw the past.” Or; Arnold is the greatest best friend in the world, Connor is a jerk, and Kevin Price is hot and bothered.

27. Team Building

McKinley suggests a board game night and somehow ends up in a closet with Elder Price.

28. Right. Anyway. Off.

"five times McKinley says he doesn’t love Kevin, and the one time he admits it."

29. The District Leader Is Short

Being short wasn’t so bad for Connor McKinley. It meant he was always in the front for dance recitals and never had to worry about ducking his head. The only downside to being as tall as of a middle schooler was having to look up to Elder Price, which really wasn’t all that much of a downside.

(Basically, Connor needs someone who can reach all the tall things and Kevin accidentally gets the job.)

30. The Pros and Cons of Breathing

"It wasn’t until the third night he refused kitchen duty that they started to worry.”

31. Telephone Wire

Your run-of-the-mill Mcpriceley: Connor has some serious self-esteem issues, Hell dreams, romantic talks by a lake in the fine Ugandan wilderness…

32. Oh..

In which Connor has a HUGE crush on Kevin and Kevin likes him back, but Kevin himself is the last person in Uganda to realize.

33. Touch Me

The elders of District Nine are all, as a rule, unimpressive alphas or betas, except for Elders Cunningham and Price. They are poor, unfortunate, unmanifested souls; people without a secondary gender. At least, they were.

34. Loathing Self-Assassination

No one is going to worry about him. As much as it hurts, he knows that he doesn’t deserve to be worried about. He doesn’t deserve to be spoiled and pampered with attention. But that doesn’t stop him from thinking about it miserably sometimes. Oh, how nice it would be to have someone dote on him. Comfort him. Love him. But who could ever love pathetic Connor McKinley?

Sometimes, on those self-indulgent nights, he thinks that someone is Kevin Price.

35. Almost As Exciting As Orlando

Kevin Price is a great Secret Santa.

36. Seven Boxes

“i did that annoying thing where i put loads of smaller boxes inside one big box and you’re getting really mad but you don’t know that the ring is in the smallest box and i can’t wait to see your face”

37. Imitation

When Kevin finds himself having gay thoughts, he turns to the resident expert on them to sort them out and ends up getting more than he bargained for.

38. National Hug Day

Even back home in Utah Connor suspects that there will probably be times when he’ll need to keep his elders’ spirits up, and how better than by celebrating some fun holidays together?

39. Poster Child

Connor was convinced that God was slowly mending his sinful, perverse mind. He wasn’t having a difficult time turning it off, the other Elders were handsome, but they weren’t his style.

That was until he showed up and ruined everything with his stupid beautiful face and his obnoxiously endearing ego.

Elder Kevin Price, the gosh darn b-word!

40. You’re A Good Mormon, Elder Price

The missionaries are assigned new companions for the next three months, and Elder Price’s new roommate brings out things in himself he never thought he was capable of.

41. Three Times Arnold Didn’t Get It (And The One Time Kevin Spelled It Out For Him)

Not bothering to knock, he opens the door to their quarters and says, “Oh Battlestar Galactica!” Which wasn’t what he was going to say, but when he sees a very shirtless Elder McKinley straddling an equally shirtless Kevin Price, all rehearsed dialogue goes flying out the window. :: - :: Arnold knows he can be a little dense about some things but to consistently miss the fact that his district leader has been boning his best friend? That has got to be some sort of feat.

42. Butterfly Kisses and Birthday Wishes

A stolen caress and inadvertent cuddle during Movie Night plunges Connor McKinley and Kevin Price into their first ever romantic relationship in post-canon Uganda. As their relationship progresses, Kevin tries to move things a little bit faster than Connor is ready for, but eventually the time is right for both of them.

Or shameless McPricely fluff where Connor and Kevin share all of their firsts together.

43. Sydney Carton Doesn’t Have Shit On Me

Connor McKinley has Great Expectations, and arrogant, brooding, straight Kevin Price is most definitely not his dashing, heroic love interest. Seriously.

44. “Obviously You Are Not Skilled In The Art Of Doing Things You Aren’t Supposed To.”

Sentence Prompt #11- “"Obviously you are not skilled in The Art Of Doing Things You Aren’t Supposed To.”

45. “Hey! My Eyes Are Up Here!”

Sentence Prompt #2- “Hey! My eyes are up here!”

46. “How Much Does It Hurt?”

Sentence Prompt #17- “How much does it hurt?”

47. Latter-Day Blues

“Our rules can change too, guys. I really don’t think anything bad will happen if we let a few of those things slide — I mean, who here is going to care now?” In which the Church washes its hands of the Uganda mission, leaving a bunch of confused, abandoned boys who are unaccustomed to freedom in its wake.

48. Untitled

49. In All My Years

Connor has had many things happen in his life. Ballet lessons, rejection, and first loves. This is a look into eight different parts of his life.

50. .laundry

(drabble) prompt fill: slow dancing

51. .malaria

(drabble) prompt fill: caring for the other when sick

52. Want To Talk About It?

Kevin can’t sleep, it’s Connor’s fault.

53. Season of Love

Connor hasn’t been to church in a very, very long time.

54. Blue and Pink

Connor McKinley looks in the mirror.

55. Tan and White

Sequel to “Blue and Pink”

56. Desperation

Arnold then grinned mischievously. He sat up to face Elder Thomas. “Well, Poptarts, if you’re in, we could do a spot of matchmaking.”

Nothing ever seems to happen between Connor McKinley and Kevin Price, except longing looks and gentle brushes that are just platonic enough to not imply anything. Chris and Arnold think that something should be done.

57. Turn It Off

“Where’s your 'nifty, little Mormon trick,’ now? What good is it if you can’t use it when you need it most?”

58. Baby Steps (To Our Paradise Planet)

Elder Price was something else, he really was. Boys like him were the reason Elder McKinley came up with his entire lightswitch coping mechanism in the first place, and boys like him were why the lightswitch coping mechanism did not actually tend to work very well. Sure, in theory, it worked like a charm; memories of the fifth grade could be flicked off just like that. Everybody did that. Everybody did not have to look Elder Price in his glowing, grinning face and pretend that they were not halfway in love with him.

59. Poorboys and Pilgrims

Officially the remaining Elders are running themselves as a collective in the absence of their District Leader. But to nobody’s surprise Elder Price has declared himself in charge. You can lead a horse away from conventional Mormonism but you cannot force him not to be self-important and overly-righteous, even if this the new and improved Elder Price has learnt a little humility alongside his propensity towards vulgarity.

(Or, Elder McKinley and Elder Thomas go missing after a routine trip.)

60. Rarefied Air

“Elder Price,” and Connor only called him that half wistfully and half in jest, although he looked deadly serious now, “are you attracted to me?” “No,” said Kevin, decisively. And even though it was the right answer, Kevin blushed and looked away, as though he was lying. “Oh,” Connor said, face paling even as his smile widened, “that’s good.”

In which Kevin wishes to experience temptation. It proves harder than expected.’

61. Nocturne

Kevin is sick; Connor cares for him. The subconscious is a strange thing. Price/McKinley, indulgent sick!fic. Part of the same universe as Rags to Rags but can be read as a stand-alone.

62. Dead Guy Walking

Heathers the Musical Dead Girl Walking!AU

What it says on the tin. With the District 9 Uganda Mission shut down and the weight of disappointment from the Church and his family riding on his shoulders, Connor decides that Heaven Father can forgive him for one more sin.

63. What’s One More Broken Rule?

The alcohol had been a gift from the villagers and, after a particularly bad day, the ex-Elders need a bit of a pick-me-up. With lowered inhibitions, Connor McKinley really starts letting his feelings out.

64. Cockblocked

Elders Price and McKinley have been hitting it off recently and all they want is a moment alone, but their 'prophet’ has other ideas.

65. Rivers Run

Former Elder McKinley hadn’t know what to expect when he heard that Kevin Price had been in an accident.

66. Cooking from the Soul

When it came time to pack his bag for Uganda, Kevin Price decided to bring with him the one thing from home that he knew would help him get through the next two years. But then the General stole it, and now that he’s been driven out of village, Kevin wants it back.

67. Let Food Be Thy Medicine

Kevin and Connor head over to Kimbay’s house to learn about traditional Ugandan recipes.

68. Kiss the Cook

Four times Connor failed in the kitchen, and one time he didn’t.

69. So Close

“A drabble about a time McKinley wishes he was dead”

70. Until We Both Fall Asleep

After date night, Kevin and Connor share a bed for the first time. It’s easier said than done.

71. Something Magical

If someone had told Kevin Price before his mission that someday he’d make a list of Awesome Date Ideas because he wanted to ask out his district leader, he wouldn’t have believed them. The only problem was, he couldn’t think of any awesome date ideas. He couldn’t even think of any mediocre date ideas. Clearly, Disney was the answer.

72. Not Today

Price had grabbed his arm just seconds ago, a strong grip at the elbow, and dragged him outside with no explanation. The other elders in the kitchen, making dinner and talking loudly with each other about market day tomorrow, had hardly spared them a glance. Now they were alone.

73. Mission: Prom

“a drabble about McKinley dancing”

74. I Went To Your Funeral

Written for a tumblr prompt: “I THOUGHT YOU’VE BEEN DEAD. FOR TEN YEARS. WHY ARE YOU ON MY FRONT DOORSTEP. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN. WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME CRY LIKE THIS I HATE THAT I LOVE YOU AND WHY DID YOU EVEN LEAVE IN THE FIRST PLACE.”

75. Frogs

When life is at an all-time low for Kevin, he’s reunited with an old friend from his mission who acts as a perfect distraction.

76. Gemstones

Elder Price has trouble ignoring Elder McKinley’s eyes.

77. Let In Light, Banish Shade

They’ve sat through the worst of the summer but the heat is dry and intense and Connor can’t help but picture snow. The fresh, damp kiss of a new start on his skin. For a moment he could almost picture it, could almost feel snow instead of sweat in his hair. For most of them this is going to be their first Christmas away from home, it is certainly Connor’s first Christmas away from his family and as District Leader it is Connor who has a responsibility for the welfare of his Elders. He should be able to provide them this, to make their first Christmas in Africa something incredible, something special.

78. A Fire Escape Symphony

And you, with your new born eyes, Have you ever loved a man like I love him? Do you hurt but still feel alive, like never before?

Connor has never had fire marshal training, the Missionary Training Center had focused on how to engage ill at ease people in conversations about religion, or about proper attire and social cues. They hadn’t taught what to do in the case of disaster. Perhaps, thinking back on their mission, they should have done.

79. A Collection of Firsts

After breaking away from the Church, Kevin Price knew he would be experiencing a series of firsts in his life. He just never expected Elder McKinley to be involved in so many of them.

A brief look at the many firsts shared between Connor and Kevin in their rapidly evolving relationship.

80. 1 Year

"So you know how Naba is finally coming here later?"

"You have literally been talking about nothing else since we came back from Uganda last November."

"Anyway, I may have organised a teensy tiny party..."

One year after Kevin and Arnold's mission on Naba's arrival to America, Arnold organises a party- oh- and Kevin's having some difficulty with a crush.

81. Planet Orlando

AU where your soulmate's name is printed somewhere on your body.

Kevin finds out Elder McKinley's first name.

82. Easter in Uganda

The villagers and missionaries in Uganda participate in some fun Easter activities! Light, fluffy fun with no angst or smut

83. Sweet Understanding

After Kevin's parents kick him out for being gay, he moves in with Connor McKinley.

84. All The Time In The World

Of Disney movies, and ten o'clock curfew, and Connect Four, and plane sex, and a whole lot more.

85. My name is-

Connor and Kevin share names, a sweet moment and a terrible secret before bed.

86. Work in progress

“Hell’s not all fire and sulphur, you know. Sometimes Hell is being reminded every night of what you want so badly but you know that you can’t have. Torture isn’t just pain, it’s discomfort, disillusion, disassociation; it’s being shown happiness and having it ripped out from underneath you.”

Elder Price and Elder McKinley get some things off their chest after a few not-so-spooky Mormon Hell Dreams.

87. Burst

He's got all his feelings locked away.

88. from salt to shore

“You know, I- When I went to Orlando, when I was a kid, y’know- When I went to Orlando, we road tripped there."

Or- the McPriceley road trip fanfic we all needed.

89. Roommate Wanted

Connor is kicked out of his home. Kevin needs a roommate. That's it. That's the summary.

Others

1. Untitled

Mark 5:2-5

And when He was come out of the ship, immediately there met Him out of the tombs a man with an unclean spirit,

Who had his dwelling among the tombs; and no man could bind him, no, not with chains:

Because that he had been often bound with fetters and chains, and the chains had been plucked asunder by him, and the fetters broken in pieces: neither could any man tame him.

And always, night and day, he was in the mountains, and in the tombs, crying, and cutting himself with stones.

2. 12 Cups of Coffee

Arnold shows up at twelve cups of coffee; Elder McKinley came at six.

3. Just the Flu

4. Scream

5. Forget About the Other Boy (ChurchTarts)

Poptarts hears Kevin and Connor having sex and gets upset because he wants Connor. But he finds comfort and a little bit more in Elder Church.

6. Not So Long Ago When I Was Five

Kevin’s bad attitude gets him turned into a little kid by the village shaman and the other Elders try to fix him

7. Like One of Your French Boys (ChurchTarts)

Chris volunteers to be the drawing model for James’ art project.

8. Some Assembly Required (Churchtarts)

James and Chris buy a new bed from IKEA and attempt to build it without the instructions.

9. Peep Show (Churchtarts)

Things are getting heated in the mission quarters, and Elder McKinley has set up webcams all around the house to find out who has been tinkering with the thermostat. Much to his, and soon-to-be-wed Cunningham and his best man’s surprise, it’s not just the thermostat that’s being tinkered with.

10 Threnody

Exodus 11:4,6

“And Moses said, Thus saith the LORD, About midnight will I go out into the midst of Egypt: And there shall be a great cry throughout all the land of Egypt, such as there was none like it, nor shall be like it any more.”

11. The Answer

12. The Lion and the Lamb

Sequel to Threnody.

13. Falling

14. Thanksgiving

The holidays are the worst time to be lonely.

15. Wine Free Wine (ChurchTarts)

PT and Church spend a quiet night in, that is until they are interrupted.

16. Four States, One Journey (Though McPriceley at the end, more mentions of college life)

Life throws so many things at you that you don't expect. Rejection. Addiction. Doubt. Divorce. But maybe, with the right people in your life, it can still be greater than you ever imagined. Chronicles of the characters' lives post-Uganda.

17. Plus Nine (Hinted McPriceley but not so obvious)

The plan was simple, he and Elder Cunningham would talk about their objectives at the airport, say goodbye to their families with a smile, a hug and a handshake and then they would board their flight. Perhaps pray together for their mission to be a success, read up on the documents the Missionary Training Center had given them about District Nine, and then the two of them would loosen their ties and put their seats back to rest. They could sleep on the plane and wake up fresh faced and ready to start the most important two years of their lives.

The plan had little reflection on reality.

Or; Elder Price has jetlag, canon... doesn't actually change at all.

18. The Three Times Chris Thomas Tried to be Sexy, and the One Time He Was (ChurchTarts)

All Chris wanted to do was make sure James knew how much he loved him.

19. The One Where They Sleep Together (ChurchTarts)

The first time Chris and James slept together, it was a little unexpected.

20. The Other Team (ChurchTarts)

High school was hard enough for Chris Thomas without an attractive football player trying to lure him out of the closet - for all the wrong reasons.

21. Eyes on the Road (ChurchTarts)

Chris and James get pulled over after some less-than-safe driving antics. (Vague smut, nothing M-worthy.)

22. Making a Date (ChurchTarts)

The reality of the distance between them finally starts to set in, and Chris and James just need to see each other again.

23. Prom Night (ChurchTarts)

James wanted to make sure that prom would be special.

24. Long Distance (ChurchTarts)

Chris thought he could handle a week away from James.

25. Show and Tell (ChurchTarts)

Christopher Thomas always gets what he wants.

26. The Phone Call (ChurchTarts)

Letting his family know about his diagnosis was hard enough on Chris to begin with.

27. No Turning Back (ChurchTarts)

They were at that point in their relationship where they realized there was no turning back.

28. One Day at a Time (ChurchTarts)

It all started with a cough.

29. Lovestruck (ChurchTarts)

James Church and Chris Thomas thought they knew everything about each other.

30. Heading Home (ChurchTarts)

With their mission reaching its end, Elder Church realizes he's got nowhere to go. Elder Thomas wants to give him the home he deserves.

31. For The Both of Us

It was the one day of the year Christopher Thomas was guaranteed to have a Hell dream.

32. Letting it Out (ChurchTarts)

Elder Thomas thinks it's about time for Elder Church to let all his feelings out.

MORE TO COME (if there are more fanfictions for this fandom).

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spooniesuniteunite · 7 years

Photo

And we’re up!

After some consideration I decided to make a sideblog for chronic illness blogging/guidance. I talk about it a lot on my main but I wanted to also make a space for people to get that content without having to follow my personal which is also full of fandom and other things. (I will still be posting to my main, and reblogging from there to this sideblog)

Here’s my description (I know it’s long, I may change it and add a link to a page where I say all this, but I figure it’s important to kind of lay it all out there):

I live with fibromyalgia, narcolepsy, ulcerative colitis, depression, anxiety, PTSD, and other things that come along with my clown car of illnesses like sensory processing disorder.

In addition to that I found out recently that I grew up with a condition called atlas subluxation which basically means the first vertebra (and second too, the axis!) in my spine was misaligned, compressing my brain stem and pinching the vertebral arteries, restricting bloodflow. This affected my development and my health because my brain's ability to communicate with my body and its organs was compromised. (Read my Atlas Subluxation and chronic illness timeline)

I grew up with lots of different chronic health problems such as chronic bronchitis, digestive issues, chronic back pain, sleeping issues, anxiety, and more. It took until I was 23 when my body finally buckled under everything and became so weak to the point of disability to realize that I was sick and that something was wrong and none of it was in my head or me being a "hypochondriac" like I had been called my whole life.

I grew up sick but didn't really know it wasn't normal to feel so horrible all the time. I just thought I was weak and everyone else was just handling it better than me. I grew up with constant discomfort, always feeling ill, always tired but couldn't stay asleep, constant stomach aches, back aches, headaches, anxiety, depression. As a result I struggled in school, in learning, in friendships, with my family, with transitioning into the adult world outside of highschool. I had always blamed myself for my failures, for being too weird, too sick, too stupid, too lazy to keep up with my peers or to just be a normal person.

And because when I became so sick and learned that I had these legitimate illnesses, I had no real guidance from doctors other than "idk try these drugs?", I had to learn a lot of how to live as a spoonie on my own. I did research, always trying new things, always looking for answers or ideas, anything to increase my functionality and lessen the pain that I'm in every day.

What this also means is that I had to be the one to pick myself up, to drag myself out of the darkness. The scariest part about all of this is that because of my suffering and isolation and lack of guidance, I was suicidal for the first few years after my "big bang" (when my illnesses all blew up into their FINAL FORM).

I almost took my own life. I was suffering. The pain in my spine and whole body, the severe insomnia, the hallucinations, the vomiting, the ulcers bleeding in my intestines, barely being able to work, so weak I struggled to get out of bed to use the restroom. That was so scary for little 23 year old me. I was so sick and nothing was helping me in any significant way and it was causing fights with my family as they struggled with denial and obviously the fear that I will never get better and they'll have to support me forever. 2013-2016 were rough years. In '14 I had been in the ER/urgent care 4x with horrible flare ups that caused me to vomit for up to 6 days straight and lose 12lbs and become severely dehydrated and dissociative (and then the doctors most of the time just told me I needed to "take antidepressants and learn how to push through the pain" wtf)

I felt like the career I had just started was over because surely without my health I couldn't do it, so that meant that my life was over.

I've come out of very dark places to still be here today, so I feel like I need to do my best to do these things with what I've learned and experienced:

☞ GUIDE spoonies in taking care of themselves, whether newly diagnosed and adjusting to their "new normal", or long-time spoonies who have been holding on for so long

✿INSPIRE spoonies to be brave as they face each day, each interaction, each challenge, but to also remember that they've got a lot on their plate and they need to cut themselves some slack too

☺ TEACH not only spoonies how to take care of themselves, cope, and rest, but to teach non-spoonies about these illnesses, because well... mostly no one has heard of them or has stereotypical ideas of them. Every new person I meet who learns that I have these illnesses learns something new! The more people who know about these things, the more visibility we have in our allies

☂ HELP. That's it. Just simply to help. In any small ways that I can. I want to be the guidance I did not have for other people who are struggling with their health

So yeah, spread the word! I’ll be setting up my queue as soon as I can to get some of my vlogs and other posts with insight and tips and such circulating!

Thanks for the support!

#chronic illness #spoonie #invisible illnesses #fibromyalgia #narcolepsy #spooniesuniteunite

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ralphmorgan-blog1 · 6 years

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One-Legged Man Who Repeatedly Wins Halloween Reveals Next Costume

You’ve probably seen this man’s spectacular Halloween costumes before. Every year it seems his clever creations go viral and this year is no exception. That’s because he has amazingly worked the fact that he only has one leg into every one of his Halloween disguises!

At just 9 years old, Josh Sunquist lost his left leg to a rare form of bone cancer. Doctors feared for Josh’s life and only gave him a fifty percent chance for survival. He underwent chemotherapy as well as the amputation, but by age thirteen, he was completely cancer free!

Josh never let his situation hold him back. By the time he was sixteen, he had learned to ski-race, and even went on to represent the United States in the 2006 Paralympics in Torino, Italy. Today, he represents the U.S. as a member of their international Amputee soccer team. Now Josh works as a motivational speaker and author who has gained fame after his innovative Halloween costumes went viral. Remember this one from 2010?

Josh believes that the costumes reflect his philosophy of dealing with his amputation with a sense of humor. “I’ve always dealt with the social discomfort of my disability by having a sense of humor,” he said. “But now I’m more comfortable with who I am and what I look like.” Josh occasionally takes his costume ideas from others, welcoming suggestions from those who celebrate individual uniqueness. This one from 2012 was his wife Ashley’s idea, and was an homage to the film A Christmas Story. “I guess with these Halloween costumes you could even say that I celebrate what makes me different. Which may be either weird or refreshing, depending on your perspective.” This year, People Magazine, included Josh on their 2017 Social Media Power List. While best known for his Halloween costumes, Josh has also created numerous comedy videos, which have been viewed over 100 million times! He says the downfall to having only one leg is that he always has a surplus of shoes, since he only needs the right one. However, Josh recently solved this problem when he met his “sole-mate”, Stephen. Stephen lost his left leg and wears the same size shoe as Josh. They now regularly mail each other boxes of single shoes, including the red high top Josh wore for his blizzard costume:

Check out a few of Josh’s other clever disguises. This one is from 2013:

“I was just at the zoo one time and I noticed that flamingos look like me doing a crutch handstand. So yeah.” Or how about this one from 2014? A YouTube subscriber suggested it to Josh at VidCon. He thought it would be appropriate since the year before he had just been named to the US Amputee World Cup.

In 2015, Josh got clever with a classic amputee joke.

“If my career as a motivational speaker doesn’t work out, I could probably get a job at IHOP.”

Last year, with the release of the live action Beauty and the Beast film, everyone was dressing as Belle or Beast. Josh took things a step further and won the night by going as Lumiere. Josh claims the character is “Disney’s most famous monopod!”

Which brings us to 2017. This year, Josh’s costume is straight out of The Hundred Acre Woods. It’s Tigger!

So what do you think of this year’s creation? Chances are it’s better than whatever you’re wearing this weekend. One thing is for sure, if this guy shows up to your Halloween party, you know who’s going to win the costume contest! Losing a limb and becoming an amputee can have a devastating effect on somebody’s life. That’s why having a good sense of humor and the right people around you can really help a person through many difficult times. Here’s a remarkable young man designing the prosthetic arm for his father. Try not to cry!

More From this publisher : HERE ; This post was curated using : TrendingTraffic

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blasianblazin-blog · 7 years

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Eating Disorder

The Beginning

I have spent the majority of my life running from myself. For over a decade I battled with an eating disorder, the mental illness that has the highest mortality rate in the world. I grew up with two sets of loving parents, I wasa performer, a straight ‘A’ student, and a talented dancer. I painted on a smile of perfection — a smile that portrayed a seemingly normal life with a bright future, but one that camouflaged the troubled soul that lay underneath.

The reality was that I was painfully shy, constantly teased and rejected by my peers, which led to terrible anxiety, depression and OCD. I didn’t understand why I didn’t fit in like everyone else and why life was so hard. What I did know was that there must be something wrong with me and that I must not be good enough.

Anorexia

Anorexia entered my life when I was 13 years old. I had no idea what an eating disorder was, just that I became weird about food and developed strange new rituals related to calories, my body and exercise. My anxiety calmed down as my illness found a new way to distract me from a life I didn’t want to live.

My parents intervened quickly and sent me to my first treatment center thinking I would come home cured. I defiantly went, oblivious to the fact that I even had a problem. I was shocked that there were other people just like me, and for once I didn’t feel so alone and made friends. Although I came back home in a state of good physical health, my mind had certainly not improved and I returned armed with a host of new tricks.

I became an exercise addict. I had three different gym memberships just so the same people wouldn’t observe my odd behavior of excessively working out. While most people my age were going to the prom, I was in a hospital bed with a heart rate in the 20’s. Dancing, which once was my greatest joy, became something that I couldn’t do because I was too weak, as I sunk deeper and deeper into a world of delusion.

The only witness to my truth — my actual thoughts and true conflict — was a journal and pen. I wrote every day in intense detail. Besides my eating disorder, this was the only other company I had. Writing in my diaries helped to unload some of the turmoil in my head, but I made sure to keep my journals hidden to preserve my secrets.

It was not long before I was admitted to a specialized eating disorder stabilization program. I lost all mobility, my hair fell out, and I faced near liver failure. My weight hit a low of 45 kg and my parents were told to make funeral arrangements. This was all unreal to me however. I was fat. I was fine. I was worthless. What’s the big deal? The doctors fought for my life, but I fought back against them.

Miraculously though, I survived and stabilized enough to return home. But I was still nowhere near healthy, either physically or mentally. I had never felt more traumatized and afraid of my eating disorder – yet simultaneously trapped and protective of it.

At home I wanted so badly to be normal, but there was no way. I needed my eating disorder behaviors to cope, so that I didn’t have to feel the pain of my deepest wounds. My behaviors, such as restricting and exercising, gave me temporary relief from my torturous thoughts. Yet, once I built up a tolerance to that “high,” I had to escalate my behaviors to preserve that high. If you think reaching a certain weight will bring you happiness – be prepared to enter a black hole. Weight has nothing to do with it. So, when my eating disorder morphed from anorexia to binge eating disorder, it wasn’t so surprising.

Binge Eating Disorder

In August 2012, I had my first binge. It’s a night I will never forget as I inhaled all my favorite foods I had forbidden myself from tasting for over a year. But I couldn’t stop. Just as anorexia served as a way to cope – albeit negatively – binging did too.

Only 1½ years after the time that my weight was 45 kg, my self-destructive relationship with binge eating disorder became so severe that when I stepped on a scale in 2013, I was 70 kg.

I spent almost every day locked in my house alone while binging, and would only leave to buy more food. It did more harm than good. Yes, I was now overweight, but losing weight was exactly how I almost lost my life. The trauma soon took over and I returned home with a new sinister predicament.

Bulimia

Unable to understand the meaning of balance, bulimia took the place of binge eating disorder. My bulimia took the form of restricting calories, binging on an average of 10,000 calories and then taking up to 100 stimulant laxatives. This cycle seemed never-ending.

Yet, as my weight got closer to a normal range, I began to make occasional public appearances. I got back into dancing and started going to the gym. I put on that fake smile once again and had everyone believing that I was healthy and recovered. But they didn’t see the other 23 hours of my day. I was extremely ashamed of my mental health problems and continued to struggle in silence. Of course, there was also a large part of me that didn’t want to recover because that would mean confronting the pain that terrified me more than anything – facing myself. Everyone says they want to recover until they actually have to do it.

I felt I had lost everything in my life. My dreams with dancing, with performing, with school, with friends, and with ever being a normal person were surely shattered. What I did have though, were hundreds of journals secretly hidden away that contained a decade of the madness and horror that I experienced while consumed by mental illness. I decided to type them up, which proved to be an enormously painful, but also therapeutic experience. The fake mask I wore began to slip off. I slowly started sharing my story on Tumblr and was overwhelmed by the positive feedback I received. Maybe, if nothing else, my story could help another person and that would make everything I had gone through worth it. I realized that my story wouldn’t be for everyone, but it was important for me to shed light and awareness on the reality of mental illness. And most importantly, that there is hope to recover and get better.

Recovery

I didn’t realize that recovery is so much harder than staying in the disease. Unlike with addictions, you can’t abstain from food – you have to learn to form a healthy, rather than an abusive, relationship with it multiple times a day.

Eating disorders can only survive on secrecy, silence and lies. The only way I was able to finally start recovering – and the only way anyone can – was to be honest, speak up and trust in the truth of professionals and a better life.

I found a therapist, psychiatrist and dietician who I trusted, and who believed in me. I committed to listening to their voices and not the relentless, harassment voice of my eating disorder. One of the hardest barriers for those struggling with an eating disorder is the false emphasis that weight is a measurement of how sick you are, or if you deserve help.

This couldn’t be further from the truth. I was just as sick and miserable at my lowest weight, highest weight and when I was at a normal weight.

Society is quick to comfort you and offer support when you break your arm, or to say it’s not your choice that you have cancer, but they are not so forgiving with mental health.

Eating disorders do not discriminate when it comes to gender, ethnicity, socioeconomic group, sexual orientation, or age. Although sometimes your weight may fluctuate due to your behaviors, an eating disorder is an internal struggle of your mind. So many beautiful people share my same struggles and so many people share my same victories. I do have three gripping transformation photos, but I use them to catch people’s attention so that I can share messages that truly matter.

There is no such thing as recovering while keeping parts of your eating disorder. I thought for the longest time I could have both a normal life and keep my eating disorder in case things got too scary. But recovery means giving up your eating disorder entirely. I can’t properly put to words the grief, anger, confusion and panic I felt as I came to terms with this. However, I also knew all too well the doors my eating disorder would continue to close.

I had to face what I feared most – myself. I had to rip off my Band-Aid and expose my wounds. And they bled and it hurt. But through the discomfort, I realized that nothing catastrophic happened. In fact, my wounds started to heal. Over and over I had to challenge the lies and messages I thought about myself.

Over and over I had to face the parts of myself that scared me the most – the parts I had learned to hate – until I became my own best friend and learned to love myself instead. Over and over I had to learn how to live in a brand new way until I realized I was good enough and worthy of happiness. I can’t think of anything more courageous or inspiring than putting yourself first and taking back your life. I am no longer running from myself, and I’m falling in love with the company of my own voice. This is what eating disorder have thought me.

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dulwichdiverter · 7 years

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Dulwich at war

What was life in Dulwich like during the First and Second World Wars? Our writer investigates

By Baruch Solomon

These days, a night out with my friends usually consists of a few beers and a curry, but in 1939 it might have meant playing with live grenades in Belair Park. The following year, we could have been shooting at enemy aircraft from Dulwich and Sydenham golf course.

More likely, we’d have been bored stiff guarding the ammunition dump in Dulwich Wood in the pouring rain; or patrolling the streets to make sure that no chinks of light were showing through anyone’s curtains.

Later, when the rocket bombs fell, we’d have dived for cover with the customary stiff upper lip, but we might have wondered why so many of them seemed to land on Dulwich.

In fact, it’s likely that the first explosive device to hit Dulwich fell in 1916, landing next to Peckham Rye Common and damaging a local tramline. The exploding shell turned out to be friendly fire from an anti-aircraft gun on One Tree Hill. It had been aimed at a Zeppelin airship that was no doubt on its way to bomb inner London.

Speaking of early bombing raids, one of the most celebrated World War One pilots was Sydney Vincent Sippe, a former pupil of Dulwich College. On November 21, 1914, he and two other pilots flew more than 120 miles across mountainous terrain into enemy territory to bomb hangars containing Zeppelins. This was just eleven years after the Wright brothers had made their maiden flight and such feats were almost unheard of.

Another former pupil, Grahame Donald, had a miraculous escape a few years later. He fell out of his Sopwith Camel at 6,000 feet after his safety belt snapped. He wasn’t wearing a parachute, but while falling he collided with the somersaulting plane, managed to grab a wing and climbed back into the cockpit.

But Dulwich was also a focal point for those who showed a different kind of courage; people like Sarah Cahill and Arthur Creech Jones who formed the East Dulwich branch of the No-Conscription Fellowship and campaigned tirelessly on behalf of those who refused to fight on moral grounds.

Conscientious objectors faced ridicule, contempt and open hostility for refusing to participate in the war. Their fate was determined by local tribunals. In Camberwell, a Mr Sayer, dismayed by the unsympathetic attitude of some of his colleagues, was reported to have declared: “Members were biased and did not exhibit the judicial attitude required of them… Some members were continually muttering such remarks as ‘They ought to be shot, or ought to be hanged.’”

World War Two had a much greater impact on civilian life. As was the case elsewhere, local people demonstrated an enormous commitment to the war effort, volunteering as firefighters, air raid wardens, nurses, local defence volunteers and auxiliary policemen.

These services could be severely under-resourced, especially at the start of the war. For the first nine months, Mr R Dupraz ran air raid wardens’ post 60 from his living room at 47 Pickwick Road in Dulwich Village.

As late as July 1940, the mayor of Camberwell put out an appeal for guns and binoculars for what was to become the local Home Guard. A week later he was reported to have lamented: “All I have received is one pair of binoculars.” In moments of such pathos, it is hard not to be reminded of Captain Mainwaring from Dad’s Army.

But while Dulwich braced itself for war and possible invasion, William Joyce (later nicknamed Lord Haw-Haw) and his brother Quentin had a very different agenda. During the late 1930s they were known for organising Nazi rallies outside Dulwich Library, but the authorities were more concerned about their association with suspected German agent Christian Harri Bauer.

Quentin worked in the Directorate of Signals for the Air Ministry, which may have given him access to sensitive information. MI5 was alerted when his landlady contacted the police about a letter in his waste paper basket containing a list of British cruisers and aircraft. Conversations about obtaining rare stamps followed, which MI5 took to mean sensitive maps that could be used by enemy forces.

When war was declared, William Joyce defected to Germany and his infamous if absurd radio broadcasts earned him the moniker Lord Haw-Haw. Quentin was arrested in Bristol where presumably, he had been trying leave England by boat.

He was deemed a security risk and interned on the Isle of Man until 1943. While there, his repeated protestations of innocence were compromised by his association with characters like Dr Branimir Jelić, a Croatian nationalist with strong Nazi sympathies who, upon his release, moved into the showy but rather eccentric Toksowa Hotel on Dulwich Common.

The first bombs fell on Dulwich in August 1940 and air raid sirens soon became an almost nightly occurrence. Audrey Waters was with her sister in the Odeon at Goose Green when a siren sounded. Worried about their mother, they ran home along East Dulwich Road.

She recalled: “As we ran, we heard the noise of an airplane and looked back and there was this plane diving straight at us. We threw ourselves over a coping into a garden to get out of the way.

“We heard the sound of a machine gun, and then the airplane swooped back up again and flew off… The street was deserted apart from us because they were all in the air raid shelter so the pilot was obviously shooting at us, two young girls running home.”

Audrey went on to work in the radium room of a factory on Streatham Hill, painting radium on compass and gun dials. Fascinated by the paint’s luminosity, she stopped wearing her mask at work. “At night, in the blackout, I used to be lit up like a Christmas tree, with all the fluorescence over my hairline, neck, throat and hands,” she said.

Tragically but unsurprisingly, Audrey became seriously ill some years later and had to have a tumour in her throat removed.

There were numerous public shelters in and around Dulwich, but many residents erected their own. The Ellen family from Turney Road found that their Anderson shelter became increasingly damp as the winter of 1940 approached: “Dr Brown said we could stay in the house and risk being hit by a bomb, or use the shelter and be sure of dying of pneumonia.”

As well as bombs, people faced the daily struggle of putting food on the table in the face of rationing and food shortages. Some people formed pig clubs, where they all contributed waste food scraps to feed the pig. When it was slaughtered the meat would be shared out.

“We always had something when they killed a pig,” recalled Nora Young, “and once we had a leg. We invited relations and neighbours to our pork party, 10 of us in two sittings; what a treat it was.”

But amid all the wartime austerity, one Dulwich teenager struck it rich and moved into the house of her dreams on Court Lane. The year was 1940 and the young lady’s name was Anne Shelton.

She was a “forces sweetheart” who melted the hearts of servicemen at military bases up and down the country. She had her own radio show, Introducing Anne, which ran for four years and was mainly broadcast to troops in North Africa. She’s perhaps best remembered for her signature tune, Lili Marlene.

In the summer of 1944, the Germans started firing rocket bombs at Britain. Dulwich was especially badly hit and this was no accident. The Germans aimed their rockets where they thought they would do the most damage.

However, British intelligence officers were able to use their knowledge of the Enigma code to feed misinformation to the Germans about where their rockets had landed, leading them to aim their rockets south-east of central London in the mistaken belief they were hitting their targets.

The worst single incidence of loss of life occurred on November 1, 1944 when a V2 rocket landed on the corner of Friern Road and Etherow Street, killing 24 people.

Understandably the rocket bombs increased British anger at the Germans, who they regarded as “simply not playing the game”. Clergymen were by no means immune from the desire for retribution.

The outraged pastor of Lordship Lane Baptist Church declared that “Hitler and his hounds from hell will lose their lives. They deserve to for they have never given God or man a chance.”

Meanwhile the Reverend James Capron of All Saints Church in West Dulwich seemed to be more upset about his stained glass windows than any humanitarian implications: “It all makes a lot of work for everybody with discomfort and inconvenience, which no doubt the Germans intended, but it has not and will not win them the war. But it has stopped a lot of talk about the Germans being fundamentally nice gentlemen, unfortunately led by gangsters.”

However, an excerpt from St Mary’s Church magazine in Peckham had a more dovish tone: “A competition in barbarism would hardly save the population from suffering, shorten the war or add to the hope of a better world in the days to come.”

There are numerous reminders in and around Dulwich of those people, military and civilian, who lost their lives during the two world wars. Outside what is now the Deeper Life Bible Church on Lordship Lane, there’s a stone plinth erected by the Dulwich Volunteer Battalion – an early version of the Home Guard – in honour of those who died in World War One.

At what is now Dulwich Community Hospital, several thousand World War One soldiers were cared for after being injured at the front. In the grounds, there’s a monument to 119 soldiers who didn’t survive. In 2013, the Dulwich Society erected 12 memorial plaques at sites where German bombs caused significant loss of life.

But there are other reminders too, and they aren’t all about people who were killed. There’s a blue plaque on Anne Shelton’s former residence at 142 Court Lane. The site of the exotic if strange-sounding Toksowa Hotel has lost none of its exclusivity. It became Hambledon Place, a very upmarket gated community that was once home to Margaret and Denis Thatcher.

But one of the least aesthetic reminders of Dulwich’s wartime legacy has to be the concrete gun emplacement at the top of One Tree Hill. It certainly isn’t made any prettier by the empty bottles and beer cans that have sometimes graced its environs. Perhaps we should be grateful however, that we live in an age when all-night parties have replaced all-night air raids, and when uncollected litter is a greater nuisance than unexploded bombs.

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