If the mean people in our lives were crappy 100% of the time, it would be easy to leave them. We would shrink from becoming friends with them or jump aboard the nope rocket in the early stages of trouble, and we would feel only relief when they are gone from our lives.
The problem is that very few people are evil all the time. They donât wear villain costumes purchased at ForeverEvil. They donât laugh maniacally and stroke their evil goatees while monologuing about their evil plans. They appear in our lives as People-Who-Would-Be-Awesome-Except-For-That-One-Glaring-Problem. They have potential to be awesome, and sometimes they are awesome, and they make us feel awesome, so we relax and let out that breath weâve been holding in, and then BAM! They show their mean side, and we do a ton of mental work trying to reconcile the mean stuff with the awesome stuff.
Breaking up brings relief, as you lose the constant mental labor of managing the relationship AND the stress of being constantly disappointed and hurt, but it also brings grief. Shitty people who forget your birthday and give little backhanded compliments and gossip about your secrets sometimes give really good hugs, or presents, or are your favorite people to get drunk and watch figure-skating with, or were the sole witness to an important time in your life. The good times were real.
I cannot express how much of a lightbulb moment it was when I realized people did not have to be unilaterally awful in order for you not to want to be in a relationship with them
âWe are just scratching the surface of whatâs possible,â
Shapiro-Scharlotta said. âThe use of organic and non-linear shapes at no
additional costs to fabrication will lead to more efficient mechanical
designs.â
My favorite thing about this is that itâs basically what Klingon armor looks like.
2/2 I donât think youâd write anything fetishizing/transphobic, I just see a lot of it online. Itâs either kinky-docile-submissive sissyb*ys, or itâs folks emasculating trans-masc bc Masc is Bad. Soft Shy Fem trans boys only!â Both are transphobic and gross. The humiliating-dysphoric shame is at home. I talk to mom about Trans, itâs sheâs hearing I killed her daughter, started wearing her skin, and expect her to keep going on like normal. In her head sheâs still waiting for the prodigal daugther
-hugs so much-
Of course I can!
I hope youâre able to find people in your life that will fully accept you for who you are. ⤠And I hope this little story brings something positive to your life, even if itâs only for a moment.
I wasnât sure what pronouns to use for Julian because you asked for Julian to be Genderqueer/NB, so I went with they/them pronouns and referring to Julian as âthe doctorâ where it made sense to. I had to edit out some unconscious he/him pronouns for Julian. If there are others that I missed, please let me know.
I went way out of order for this one, but I didnât want to write something heavy today but I still wanted to get something out.
Another Order
The door opening broke Garak out of his work-induced trance. He glanced up from the black and greens of the Andorian fabric and caught the gaze of Doctor Bashir, whoâs gentle smile brought a familiar warmth that carried like a modest Cardassian wind. In the doctorâs hand was a Federation PADD. Garak offered a smile of his own.
âI wasnât aware we had arrangements today,â Garak said.
âWe donât. I want to place an order.â Julian stopped near the counter.
âAnother one of your holosuite costumes?â
âNot this time. Iâd actually like to get something casual I can wear around the station.â
âDid you have something in mind?â
Julian pushed the PADD towards Garak with itâs usual enthusiastic flare. Garak took it and looked upon the screen. There were a few pictures to cycle through. All of the pieces were dresses – knee length, sleeveless ones with just an edge of play curling against the seams. Reds and oranges were painted across all of them. The necklines were all the same too. They were angled, with points near the arms that offered a square appearance. Garak frowned.
âCharming pieces,â Garak said, âBut may I ask you a question, Doctor?â
âOf course.â
âHow attached are you to the choice of neckline?â
Garak glanced up. Julianâs smile turned into a small frown. The doctorâs brows creased together in a familiar press. A puzzlement. Garak placed the PADD aside and picked his own up off the work station. He flicked through several images.
âThe square neckline that youâve chosen gives the piece a more sophisticated feel. If you are aiming for a casual look, as you insisted, there are better options, especially with the colors youâve chosen.â Garak stopped on a different neckline, voided the colors of the dress, and turned the PADD to Julian. He showed the doctor a rounded neckline closer to the neck with a sleeveless design. âA jewel neckline.â
âYou donât think itâs too conservative?â Julian asked. Garak turned the PADD around again and backed through a few options.
âIf you wish to show more skin, there are options for that as well,â Garak answered. He chose a wider opening, one that would still cover the dear doctorâs collarbone but showed some shoulder, then turned it for Julian to see. âA bateau, perhaps. It is not quite as casual that the jewel neckline, but it does showcase your shoulders more.â
âWhat about an off-the-shoulder neckline?â Julian asked. Garak turned the PADD around, flicked to one such option, and turned it back to the good doctor.
âThey are designed to be more sophisticated, but with the right print and accessories, I believe such a neckline could be made for a casual dress.â Garak saw the enthusiasm wash back over Julianâs face. He turned the PADD around once more. âOne more neckline for you consideration, Doctor.â
Garak flicked through the options. He stopped on a neckline with a sheer piece. Under the collarbone, the fabric was changed to a solid, to cover what skin the good doctor would have over his chest, over his heart, and anything below it. He turned the PADD. âThis is an illusion neckline. You will not have any sleeve fabric you have will be sheer, so you can showcase as much of your shoulders and collarbones as you wish. These are usually intended for formal events, but I believe I can make you a casual dress with such a neckline.â
âCould we use the same colors as the other dresses?â
âYes, I believe so.â Garak placed the PADD on the counter and moved to the design portion. He input Julianâs sizing into a program, which he saved for such occasions, and picked a knee-length option. The cut itself looking quite suitable, though a little too formal. He spoke as he changed the pleating of the skirt, the waistline, the cut of the solid neckline. âSuch necklines are better for dresses of a solid color. But a thin belt would break up the bold color nicely but still provide you with the casual appearance youâre looking for.â
Garak applied a rich red – one without patterns – a changed the top to a sheer red of the same shade.
âItâs pretty,â Julian said. Something hung on the doctorâs words. Garak looked over at them. Despite the compliment, a frown reemerged.
âYou donât sound convinced, Doctor.â
âNo, I am, itâs pretty, itâs just⌠the color looks weird the modelâs skin.â
âYou are quite tan, my dear. May I suggest a pink, perhaps?â Garak switched the color palette to a gentle pink. Julian hummed. Garak continued to change the hues slowly, silently.
âStop.â Garak paused at a light pink, a near while. âA little pinker.â Garak edged the scale. âThere. That. I love that.â
âItâs not quite the look you came in here with, Doctor.â
âThatâs okay. I like this more.â
âExcellent. Shall I make this order for you?â
âPlease!â Julianâs enthusiasm made Garak smile. He saved the image and transposed the dress size information to his order list.
âIâll begin your order a week from today. Would you like to order another piece as well, something more suiting to what you came in with, or would you rather wait for this order to be completed first before deciding on another?â
âIâll wait. Who knows, maybe Chief OâBrien and I will have other holosuite costumes to order. Thanks, Garak. And see you for lunch tomorrow?â
âYes, see you tomorrow.â
Julian grinned and nearly skipped out the door. Garak could feel the doctorâs positive energy resonate in his shop for hours after they left.
Jesus Christ was a brown Jew in the Middle East, conceived out of wedlock in an arguably interracial if not interspecies (deity and human) relationship, raised by his mother and stepfather in place of his absent father. Â He may not have had a Y chromosome. Â He spent his early youth as a refugee in Egypt, where his family no doubt survived initially on handouts from the wealthy (You think they kept that gold, frankincense, and myrrh from the wise men? Â Hell no, they sold that stuff for food and lodging). Â He later returned with his parents to their occupied homeland and lived in poverty.
Trump and his administration are xenophobic, misogynistic, racist, fear-mongering, warmongering, tax-dodging, anti-Semitic, anti-choice, anti-welfare, anti-equal pay, anti-LGBTQIA+, anti-immigration, support tax cuts for the rich, support Citizenâs United, want to keep refugees out of this country, want to limit our ability to speak against the government, plan to abolish the Affordable Care Act, and they wrap all of that up behind a banner of âChristian family values.â  If you support them, you have no right to call yourself a follower of Christ.
itâs so rare, yet so fulfilling, to see the J-man on my dash
One of my friends is literally the most religious Christian I have ever met. What does that mean in regards to her lifestyle and outlook? She loves everyone. EVERYONE. Unconditionally. And she supports healthcare and education and birth control and everything thatâs necessary to have a healthy, stable society.
I always find it amazing how you have the choice to either live out loud â that is, to live as someone who is unapologetically disabled, and talks about it like itâs as normal as every part of your life â or to live without ever speaking about your disabilities publicly. And if you do one, then youâre âattention-seeking,â as if activism works by sitting down quietly, and if you do the otherâŚ
⌠well, thatâs what ableists love, isnât it? When we sit quietly, never talking about how ableism affects us, and how it makes our lives difficult? That would be so simple, wouldnât it? So easy. Then they donât have to deal with it.Â
Iâll take being an obnoxious bitch who lives loudly and proudly as a disabled punk over rolling over and showing belly to ableists whoâd like me to fade in the corner and never bother them to change a thing about how societyâs ingrained ableism fucks over the largest minority in the US.Â
And if youâre wondering: the same shit goes for being queer, for being non-binary, for all of it. Iâm tired of being told that existing as I am is âshoving it in peopleâs faces.â If you have a problem being reminded to not be an ableist or not misgender a trans person, well, uh, thatâs not something wrong with me, is it?
*cackles* I just blew things up and what didnât blow up got set on fire!
(And then my Sim went and put out all the flames before anything burnt to uselessness or the little heaps of scrap could be set on fire too.)
There is something very satisfying about getting a Sim up to level 6 of the inventing skill and setting up a circle of things to detonate. Even when it goes a little badly, and lights shit on fire. Just. BOOM!
Words typed in black ink on textured off-white paper.