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my-fanfic-library · 4 years

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Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [16]

Masterlist

~^*^~

~^nine months later^~

After you had buried Zoe, and you and Jack had tasked Renfield with properly disposing of Dracula’s body, moving on became a difficult task in London. It seemed that Lucy lurked around every corner and whenever you went off to work, you’d somehow find yourself looking amongst the towers of concrete and finding the window that once belonged to the undead Count.

The temperature dipped. Christmas came and went and when it felt like the year only dragged on, despite moving into a new decade, you decided in unison to move back up north. Instead of going back to Whitby, where even more memories of the vampire tainted almost every street, you decided to move to that secret haven you had visited so long ago.

Nine months down the line, Robin Hood’s Bay was in the climax of its tourist season. July was blessing the northern coastline with an abundance of hot days and blue skies and both Jack and yourself had secured jobs.

After the trauma of your dealings with the vampire, you both decided to hand your notices in at the Foundation and find more domesticated lives. They suited you well. Talking to normal humans, leading normal lives - it suited you both so well. You had grown much closer in this time. Jack had learnt to forgive you after Lucy’s death; you had grieved for the vampire man that had stolen your heart and had moved on.

Things were finally no longer dark. Life regained its magnificent colours.

Walking along the beach, parallel to the rolling waves, your hand brushed against his - an innocent mistake. The cooling breeze soothed your skin where the sun beat down. You looked left, taking in the sight of the families far out in the rock pools with their neon nets, most likely looking for little sea creatures to fish out to inspect. Every now and again, a small child would squeal in excitement at finding a dead crab and their father would laugh and explain that it had been eaten by the birds who had left behind the shell.

You then looked right, a soft and loving smile came upon your face. Jack wasn’t paying much attention. He was looking ahead (most likely at the two dogs currently racing for the tennis ball their owner had just thrown). To say that you were surprised at your sudden budding feelings for your old friend would be a huge understatement. You had come to appreciate him for all that he was - plus you suspected that living together (platonically, of course) had something to do with it.

Jack had somehow become your home. He was the only person who could truly say ‘I know what you’re going through’ and mean it. Something about having such an intimate secret with him seemed to tie your bond ever closer.

The walk on the beach lasted a little longer, before you silently agreed it was time to head back. There would be an influx of tourists soon and you definitley didn’t want to try and battle for somewhere to sit on the sand. Besides, standing up at the top of the cliffs gave a beautiful view of the sea.

Robin Hood’s Bay was infamous for its steep hill winding up from the beach to the top of the cliffs. It was hard to walk down without feeling like you were about to topple over and roll the rest of the way down, and it was even more painful trying to get back up. There was a searing pain in your thighs as you took broad steps to try and scale the monster quicker.

You could hear Jack’s laughter behind you at the ridiculousness of your walk, but you ignored him. Hopefully living here would soon provide you with thighs of steel.

The feeling of victory that overcame you when you reached the top was worth every second of torture working up that hill in the heat. You turned to see Jack a few metres away. He grinned up at you and when he made it to your side, he was gently panting.

“Well, let’s agree to never climb that damn hill in the middle of one of the hottest days again.”

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna dive off the cliff and take a quick swim after that.” You joked.

“Let’s get going. I could do with some lunch.”

Slowly walking, you made your way back to your small shared cottage. It was cool inside. You took your seat at the dining table, eyeing your leather sofa with disgust. You knew that you��d stick to it if you went anywhere near it.

As he made himself a little lunch, Jack flicked on the TV in the living room and turned it up so that you could both hear from in the kitchen. The afternoon news was just beginning. It was the usual political issues, a virus outbreak in Southeast Asia, another tragic stabbing in London.

“A body was recovered from the Thames river two hours ago after tourists spotted a floating figure in the middle of the water just south of the Millenium Bridge. Scotland Yard have just released a statement in the last few moments confirming that the cause of death appears to be the same as those deaths reported last autumn in Whitby and in London.”

You looked at Jack. He had frozen halfway through buttering his second round of bread.

“CCTV footage shows a man, as you can see, and the police are urging for anyone with information on the suspect to call the number on the screen.”

You leapt up, rushing into the living room with Jack hot on your tail. The image was blurry but you knew that face anywhere. Dear Lord, couldn’t he have been bothered to dress a little differently than usual?

“The lawyer?” Jack breathed.

“Since when did Dracula drink his blood?”

That was the first time you had uttered his name in nine months and you’d be lying if you said that speaking it didn’t spark a little pain in your chest. You missed him so much. You expected a text message or a phone call every day, until you reminded yourself that you had changed your number. Even if by some miracle he was still out there, you’d probably never see the vampire again.

That was how it needed to be. You needed to be safe.

Your mind began to wonder. Had Dracula been drinking his blood back in London? And if so, had it simply taken this long for him to turn? Dracula’s finest bride, it seemed, would never be seen by its creator. You knew there was more to that lawyer’s loyalty than just contractual.

“Thank god we aren’t in London, huh?” Jack mumbled and made his way back to finish constructing his sandwich.

“Yeah...”

You trudged back to your own seat, beginning to rearrange the flowers that day in the middle of the table.

That night, you seemed to have a fever dream. A hot, burning fire, and between the flames, a tall figure. It seemed unharmed by the licks the fire gave it and as you reached forwards, the orange forms split to make way for your appendage. Before you could make contact, it whispered your name in a distorted voice. It sounded somewhat familiar. ‘[First]...’ it hissed as if imitating the sound of the fire, ‘where are you, [First]?’

You tossed and turned as the dream began to die away and you spent the rest of the night in a dreamless darkness. The next morning, the dream lingered in your mind. When Jack promoted you to confide in him, you opted not to tell him. It wasn’t like any of it mattered.

He didn’t press too much on it, but decided that he wanted to try and cheer you up.

“Why don’t we go into Whitby for the day?” He suggested, “only if you’re ready, of course.” He quickly added before shoving another spoonful of cornflakes into his mouth.

You thought about it. You hadn’t been to Whitby in nine whole months. Truth be told, you missed it. But you couldn’t decide if that was because you also missed Dracula. You scoffed. You had to be the only person to have grieved for a vampire. Except for maybe Mina Murray - but she didn’t count because her fiancé had been human for most of the time she knew him. Dracula had always been a vampire since the moment you had met him.

“Nah, it was a stupid idea, right.” Jack supposed your scoff was of disbelief that he’d suggest something so utterly stupid.

“No, I think we should go. I’d like to watch the boats.”

Jack watched as an absent-minded smile took hold of your lips as you thought about the harbour.

Well, two hours later and you were sitting by the bandstand, facing away from the structure as you looked out to sea. The pirate ship that took tourists out to sea a little and back again was coming back into the harbour. Some children not too far away from you excitedly jumped and waved and the pirate steering the ship waved back.

It was comforting to hear the whirl of music from the arcades, to get a whiff of both Whitby’s famous The Magpie and Quayside fish and chips, to see the lighthouse, and of course, to look over and up at the abbey.

Oh, how you had missed it here.

“Should we go over the bridge? I’ll buy you a sugar dummy.” Jack offered.

“Sure, why not?” You shrugged and swung your legs over the bench to turn and stand.

You froze.

Standing across the road, outside of the RNLI centre was him. Your jaw dropped. You had to be hallucinating. It couldn’t be! The yellow tourbus whizzed past and when it revealed that side of the road again, he was no longer there.

“[First]?” Jack broke your absolute disbelief, “you alright?”

~^taglist^~

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#hi i love to torture you guys #so much #anywho hope yall enjoyed #something different #dracula #bbc dracula #netflix dracula #dracula x reader #bbc dracula x reader #netflix dracula x reader #claes bang #dolly wells

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winryofresembool · 4 years

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Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 18

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: Leo's life is hard (but maybe there's some hope left).

A/N: Yay, time for a new chapter! I decided to make Friday my new posting day so that’s when the future updates will (hopefully) happen.

It's not time to resolve the previous drama quite yet but dw, that's coming! Meanwhile, I hope you'll enjoy this Leo centered chapter. It’s also time to bring Frank in!

Don't forget to let me know what you think! :)

Characters in this ch: Leo, Frank, Georgina, Jo, Emmie

Words: 1700+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / next chapter / AO3

...

“Maldita sea!” Leo yelled at himself as his wrench flew at the wall, thankfully not causing damage to it. Nothing he tried to fix or build that day seemed to go right. He hadn’t been able to figure out a pretty basic seeming issue in someone’s phone, one of his own inventions had broken and even solving a physics problem that would usually have managed to distract him only felt frustrating.

There was a lot going on in Leo’s head. Well, he’d argue that he always had a lot going on there due to his ADHD, but this time his usual methods to calm himself down didn’t seem to work. He would probably have to quit studying the only field he was truly interested in. He couldn’t do his work. His flatmate for whom he may or may not have started slowly developing some very not flatmate appropriate feelings had apparently had a thing for his friend, which not only complicated Leo’s situation with Calypso but also with Percy. And his mother’s death anniversary was coming, which was always a hard time for him. Leo imagined she’d probably be so disappointed if she saw him now. ‘My son, a failure in every aspect of life’. No, Leo’s real mother had been way too nice to actually say something like that out loud, but he just knew she’d at least think that. And Jo, Emmie and Georgina were counting on him too.

After throwing the wrench, Leo decided to take a break because his hands had started shaking too much to continue working. Taking a deep breath, he leaned against his worktable, closed his eyes and started tapping a rhythm that he had memorized years ago. His mother had taught him Morse code when he was a kid, and this particular phrase was one she had used a lot when he had needed calming down. Written down, the code looked like this:

.. .-.. --- ...- . -.-- --- ..-

I l o v e y o u

He whispered it very quietly a couple of times before looking out from the window and saying aloud:

“Mom. I’m trying to be strong. I really am. But sometimes it just gets too fucking hard. Everything seemed to be fine. Really. My other family is great. I was studying something I actually cared about. My new flatmate… uh, she’s an interesting force of nature. But if she likes someone like Percy… I’d never have a chance. And all my career plans are about to run down to the sewers because I can’t use fire, in any way. Not because of what happened to you. Because of what I... I just feel lost.”

He took a deep breath and rubbed the corner of his eye dry quickly. Saying his thoughts aloud seemed to make him feel a little bit better, and he decided that maybe getting out of the flat and getting some exercise would help with the shakiness. To his relief Calypso wasn’t home either so he didn’t have to answer any awkward questions about why he looked like such a mess. Leo found himself jogging all the way to Waystation, which was several miles from his flat. As he reached the yard, he noticed Georgina with Festus, but even with her back to him he could sense something was wrong. Of course. There was always some way the day could get even worse.

“Hi, hermanita!” he started, trying to sound cheerful even though he didn’t think he was a very good actor. Georgie could probably see right through him. His suspicions were confirmed when Festus didn’t even run to greet him as he usually did. “What’s going on?”

“I tried to call you,” she said, hiding her worry badly. “Moms went to run some errands and something… something happened to him…”

“What do you mean? What exactly happened?” Leo insisted on knowing.

Georgina seemed to grow more and more upset each moment. “I… I gave him a bully stick… but I forgot to put it in a holder even though moms always say you should do that when you give him one because he always tries to swallow them so fast… And then he started feeling sick...”

To prove her point, Festus, who was laying on the ground, made a loud gagging sound. After that he tried to whine but even that didn’t sound like it usually did.

Leo’s ADHD kicked immediately in, in the form of him wanting to act fast.

“We’ll discuss this later, I need to borrow Jo’s car now that I can take him to the vet,” he exclaimed and ran inside the house to get the keys to the car from the spot Jo usually kept them. He picked them and Festus’ leash and ran back, telling Georgina to stay home to tell Jo and Emmie what happened when they’d return.

At least one thing went right that day: the emergency vet clinic was fairly quiet when Leo arrived there. Not long after that, the vet took Festus in. He had an intern with him; a young man who Leo suspected had his roots somewhere in East Asia. He had black, short hair, a bulky body and kind of child like face even though the intern was probably older than Leo. As the vet asked Leo some questions about what exactly had happened to Festus, the student wrote down some notes and occasionally added a short comment as well. When Leo was about to explain why exactly Festus had gotten issues with the bully stick, he heard the intern mutter something to himself.

“What was that?” Leo asked a bit more aggressively than he had planned, having already been stressed even before the issue with Festus had come up. He had to admit, though, that it had distracted him from the other issues.

“Nothing,” the intern quickly said, pretending to focus on his papers again.

Leo didn’t give up that easily. “I heard you, though. You were implying that I had somehow caused this.”

“Well, you did give him the bully stick, didn’t you?” the young man asked.

“I wasn’t even there when he got one!” Leo growled, starting to feel the frustrations from earlier that day flooding out of his system. “My… uh, little sister gave him one when our parents left to run some errands and he kept whining and wanted something to chew! It wasn’t her fault either, she’s a child and she didn’t know that could happen!”

“Mister Valdez, please calm down a bit,” the vet interrupted him, and Leo immediately shut up. “There’s no need to yell. Festus is going to be just fine; I’m going to give him some medicine and fluids to help with digesting the stick and we can watch how he’s doing overnight. And Frank, please don’t make assumptions like that about clients.”

“Yes, sir,” Frank said, to Leo’s surprise actually looking regretful. Then he turned to Leo. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“Nah, I kinda lost my cool there too…” Leo said, the frustration leaving when he saw Frank’s face.

“Kinda,” the intern said, attempting to joke about the situation.

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that;” Leo rubbed the back of his neck.

After that the vet asked Leo a couple of more questions and did some more examinations on Festus while Frank helped him.

“Other than this stick issue, he seems like a healthy dog,” the vet complimented after the check up. “His fur and teeth look good. I think you’ve been taking good care of him.”

“Well, to be honest he lives more with my parents than me because they have a lot more space…” Leo said, “But yeah, we all try our best. Even Georgina, my sister.”

“I’m glad to hear that. It’s a good thing you got him here that fast so he’ll get the best possible treatment,” The vet said.

After that he wrote some notes on the computer and then dismissed Leo who scratched Festus from behind his ear and promised to come back soon to get him. As he was putting his jean jacket on in the lobby, the intern, Frank, approached him.

“About what happened earlier, I really am sorry. It isn’t like me to attack clients; you can even ask my boss about that. I just…”

“Chill, man,” Leo said. “I’ve heard this story before. People assume things about me because I look like a problem teenager. Truth to be told? You’re not entirely wrong. But things have changed. And trust me, Festus is my best friend and I’d do anything for him. I’m sure Georgie has learned her lesson too now.”

“Good to hear that,” Frank said and extended his arm to Leo. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow when you’re coming to get Festus.”

Leo nodded. “Yep, I have a feeling my whole family will want to join me. Anyway, I’m off now. Thanks for the help!”

“I’m glad we could help!” Frank told him before he started walking towards his car.

...

Jo and Emmie had already returned to Waystation when Leo got there.

“Is everything OK?” Emmie asked immediately. “We didn’t really get much out of Georgina… Just that something had happened to Festus and you took him to the vet.”

“Nah, it’s gonna be fine!” Leo reassured her. “He got some digestion issues because he gobbled a bully stick too fast but that’s being taken care of now. Georgie sure remembers to be more careful from now on, won’t ya, hermanita?” he addressed the young girl then.

“I will…” she promised, not even protesting about the nickname this time.

Once Leo had explained with more details what had happened at the vet and it became clear that Festus would be fine soon, the family moved to other matters. Unlike usually, Leo was happy with mostly listening to the others. The incident had reminded him that there were bigger matters than girl issues or his studies and he realized that those things didn’t feel quite as hard to overcome now as a few hours ago. Yes, he still needed to deal with them, and yes, his past would probably never stop entirely haunting him, but when he had people like this around him? It wouldn’t be impossible.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #percy jackson and the olympians #my fics #caleo uni au

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tavi-hayes · 4 years

Text

practice challenge ~ journey to the palace

((whoopwhoop, idk how i managed to write this (given it’s quite long and i usually never ever write stuff this long) also please excuse me again for any spelling/grammar errors i try. alsoooo thanks to these wonderful girls: Bethia @h-hart, Kat @clara-choii and Pia @brookelynnsanders!))

It was silent at work today. The only sounds were the flipping of pages and the ticking on keys of a computer, followed by a frustrated sigh occasionally.

“Maybe we should get some more flutes?” I said, “they’re not that expensive and they won’t take up a lot of space here.”

Lola, being distracted by her laptop, showed no sign that she had heard what I just said.

“Helllooo, Lo are you there?”

“Huh, what?” she ran her hands through her hair as she looked my way.

I lifted the catalogue to show her the flute page.

“No Tavi,” Lo leaned her head on the back of the chair, doing the accounts must have tired her. “We already have flutes, and no one is ever interested in them. They have been here for decades.”

I rolled my eyes, “maybe that is why no one is interested. They look grim.”

Lo refocused on her laptop, and I flipped another page of the catalogue.

Oeh, the bass guitars. My favourite part.

I ran my finger over the page, paying a lot of attention to each one.

There were electronic bass guitars, but also the semi-acoustic ones. Some were very modern-looking with the brightest of colours, while others go for more of a vintage look.

I don’t know if I would ever be able to part with my own baby. The bass guitar, that I now owned, had been eyeing me every day since it had arrived in the store. It had been love at first sight.

But it was such a big investment and I just didn’t have that kind of money.

A part of my earnings was needed for us to make a living, pay the rent and do the groceries for example. And the other part that wasn’t needed for that, entered our savings jar.

We had been saving money since the day my dad was put behind bars. For whatever reason those bars had been in St. George. Freaking St. George.

The province didn’t even have direct borders with Denbeigh, Ottaro was right in between.

That made a simple, but still long, car ride impossible. Not taken the problems that come with the snowy climate into account.

That same climate also caused issues for our only transportation option.

Denbeigh’s climate was hard to predict at times. It could be a beautiful day with sunshine and a clear sky, but then you wake up the next morning to a thick layer of snow.

And because those snowfalls could happen in at least 8 out of 12 months, a lot of planes got cancelled in those months. The only airport anywhere near Winnipeg was privately owned. So the owners could literally ask the prices they wanted for the plane tickets. And boy, they were only focussed on making a profit.

For a simple family of Fives, those prices were unpayable. Hence why we had been saving money for 6 years now, still nowhere near able to pay for tickets. My mom would need a ticket, Daniel and I would too, and we just can’t leave little Aria and Arlan. My dad should be allowed to see them as well. That’s means we already need the money for 5 tickets. But if we include Daniel’s family, with his wife and little Melody, then that would equal 7 tickets.

So yeah, I would never have been able to buy that bass guitar.

Until Lo had a brilliant idea. They would give it to me as my birthday present for the upcoming 10 years. At first, I couldn’t accept that kind of gift, knowing it would have been a huge investment for the Wood family as well. But they insisted, hinting that they would get an employee discount anyway since you know Mr Wood owns the place. So, the price dropped, and they ignored me, so I had to give in and accept. It was the best gift I had ever gotten.

The stores door busted open, “GIRLS!” Gina’s voice took me back to earth. “they’re about to do the draw!”

“What draw?” apparently Lo shared my confusion.

Gina rolled her eyes and grabbed Lo’s laptop from the table. “Wait, I was working! Save it, save it!”

The laptop was put right on top of the catalogue I had just been looking through. Lo ushered over as well.

“Let me just,” Gina had opened an internet page and started typing in the website address of Winnipeg’s number one news channel, WTV. Such an original name.

The news anchor, some middle-aged woman with very fake looking blond hair, appeared on screen. “What is she wearing?” Lo asked, disgust and confusion both showing on her face.

“A track suit, it’s part of her image,” Gina unmuted the laptop, the crow-like voice of the woman filling the room, “now shush, I wanna hear this.”

“… Cameron Porter has been selected for the Illéan national ice hockey team. The star of Winnipeg’s very own ice hockey team, the Winnipeg Belugas, will accompany the national team to the world cup, taking place later this year in Saint Petersburg, Russia. Last week’s draw concluded that Illéa will have to face the German Federation and New Asia in the group stage. The national team’s training will start next week.”

Lo and I shared a look, “this is what you wanted to see Gina?”

“Since when do you care about ice hockey?” I asked, this was something new.

“Urgh, you guys are intolerable,” she silenced us with her finger.

“… and now we will switch to the royal palace in Angeles, to watch the live draw for Prince Arin’s Selection.”

The draw, of course that was what had sparked Gina’s interest. For some unknown reason, the entire Selection had slipped from my mind.

Nevertheless, I felt a little flutter in my stomach. Nerves. Looking over to my friends, I noticed the tense looks on both of their faces. Lo’s hands were clasped together, while Gina’s had disappeared in the pockets of her cardigan.

“Welcome,” some weird voice-over called.

With that the camera focussed on the prince.

“Urgh,” I rolled my eyes.

Lo poked me in the side, laughing, “oh Tavi your distaste is showing.”

“I don’t understand how you can hate someone who is that good looking. I mean have you seen that jawline? Perfection.” Gina had had a crush on the prince for as long as I had known her.

I rolled my eyes again, “I don’t hate him.” The drawing began before I had time to explain myself further.

“From Allens … Idalia Moretti.”

“He doesn’t look very happy,” I couldn’t help but comment, “or comfortable.”

Gina sighed probably annoyed that she couldn’t listen to the show properly, “his engagement was called off not that long ago. That is a pretty hard thing to deal with.”

“Yeah, I see, it’s so hard that he’s having a Selection. Shouldn’t he like get over the other girl first?”

My friends ignored me.

“From Angeles … Emily Rose White.”

This thing was going to take forever. I just wanted to look at the catalogue again, not at that prince, “he’s making me feel uncomfortable, just by watching him.”

Again, no response from either of my friends.

I took that as a sign to remain silent, knowing very well my friends wouldn’t reply anyway now that their eyes were locked on the prince.

“From Dakota … Brooke Lynn Sanders.”

Gina let out a breath she was holding, “okay now is Denbeigh,” she took our hands in hers, “fingers crossed it’s one of us.”

Her hand palms were sweaty, she must really want this.

“From Denbeigh … Octavia Hayes.”

We were all silent for a minute. Then Lo started screaming, Gina joining her. “Oh my GOODNESS!”

“Tavi! You’re going to the palace! You’re going to meet the prince!”

“Yeah,” I was absolutely lost for words. Meeting the prince hadn’t been the first thing that came to my mind, hell it hadn’t even been the second or third thing.

The first thing I thought was: I’m one step closer to getting my dad out of prison. I will be in that freaking library day and night looking for the book that is going to help me. There must be something somewhere about a second opinion on a court order, or something else to annul the judge’s decision.

“Ohhh, I’m sooo jealous of you right now. You are going to meet the prince! And there’s a chance he will fall in love with you and you’ll have beautiful babies.” Gina pulled on one of my curls, it bounced up and down as she let go of it.

“Uhm, I think that particular chance can be redeemed to zero.” I bit my lip, not even in my biggest dreams had I imagined my name would be drawn.

“Tavi, listen. I know you only applied for those laws books, but you need to be friendly to the prince if you want to stay,” Lo insisted, “or else you will be eliminated.”

“And I have to interact with him?”

“There are girls who would kill for a chance of even being in one room with him,” Gina took over, she sounded very serious suddenly. “You’ll meet him that’s for sure, and if you actually try you might make it far enough to earn a date. Just at least try to be nice, okay?”

“Just don’t insult him,” Lo added, “or his family, or the country. Okay, don’t insult anyone.”

The way my best friends were looking at me brought me right back to the good old school days. That was exactly the way teachers had looked whenever I had done something naughty. Which had basically been at least once every day.

“Do you promise?” Lo asked when I didn’t respond.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try not to insult anyone.” I sighed, this is going to be so much harder than I thought.

All of a sudden a lot robot-like voice yelled “BREAKING NEWS”.

It just scared the living shit out of me. We turned as one towards the laptop again.

On the screen was that fake blond woman in her tracksuit again.

“Prince Arin just completed the draw for his very own Selection. Some famous girls will be joining him at the palace. Our very own province will be represented by Octavia Hayes. You might have heard of her, given that she is some meekly Five. But her father’s name will ring a bell. Octavia’s father is Caspar H., a dangerous convict in prison for murdering Winnipeg’s beloved mayor Wilfred Wallis. He might have very well passed the criminal gene onto his daughter. Not only is she definitely not a good representative for Denbeigh, but the lives of the royal family might all be in danger.”

“Damn it!” Stupid news anchor. Why couldn’t they just stay out of my family’s business. Now the entire country will be aware of this. My dad’s arrest did make the headlines of some newspapers when all that had gone down. But that had been 6 years ago and I had hoped no one would remember that.

But now it was out in the open. Again.

It didn’t even matter that my dad was innocent. He had already been suffering for it by being locked up far away from our family.

“Tavi,” Lo put her arms around me, “that’s just bullshit, no such thing as a criminal gene exists.”

Gina joined our hug, “you can’t take anyone seriously who wears a tracksuit on live TV.”

*** Couple of days later ***

Dear dad,

My name got drawn for the Selection, I’m going to the palace and meet the prince. Some palace person is coming to pick me up anytime now so I can’t write a lot. Plus, if the mail has already arrived then you will have to wait another month before you get this anyway.

I asked Daniel if he could start writing a monthly letter as well, maybe he can even add a little picture of Melody so you can see her for the first time. He said he will take care of mom, Aria and Arlan as well. Molly will just cook dinner for more people, which she doesn’t really mind doing. At least that’s what she said.

Anyhow I will write to you from the palace.

Lots of love,

Octavia

Zohl wzw, R’n hxzivw. Tlrmt gl gsv kzozxv, z dslov mvd vmerilmnvmg dsviv R wlm’g pmld zmblmv. Ovzermt nln, vhkvxrzoob mld gszg rg urmzoob hvvnh orpv hsv’h gibrmt gl orev ztzrm. Zmw dszg droo gsv xlfmgib gsrmp lu nv. Droo R gfim rmgl zm lfgxzhg? Zxxliwrmt gl DGE R’n tlrmt gl hozftsgvi veviblmv rm gsv kzozxv, yvxzfhv lu blfi ‘xirnrmzo tvmvh’. Yfg gsv kvlkov dsl olev blf droo zodzbh yvorvev blfi rmmlxvmxv, vevm ru gsv dslov xlfmgib hvvnh gl gsrmp lgsvidrhv. Qfhg pmld gszg dv nrhh blf wvziob. Zmw R droo gib vevibgsrmt R xzm gl tvg blf ivovzhvw. Qfhgrxv zodzbh kivezroh.

*** At the airport ***

The car journey all the way from Winnipeg to somewhere in Sota had lasted for ages. Even though I hadn’t really been aware of that, since I fell asleep as soon as they closed the doors behind me.

A frustrated voice had woken me up, “can you please stop drooling all over the leather upholstery?”

My eyes flew open, saliva was indeed smeared on the seat. I quickly wiped it off my face, where it had been present as well. “Sorry,” I mumbled, I then realized we had arrived at the airport, I quickly opened the car door and jumped out.

What I immediately noticed was the rain puddle I had landed in. My shoes and socks were soaking wet. Great.

“Maybe you should try to act more lady-like?” the driver said with a very disapproving tone, looking me up and down. He had already taken my guitar case out of the car and was about to put it right onto the wet street. I quickly grabbed the case out of his hands, clutching it close to my body.

The driver sighed, “there’s the entrance to the airport. Inside it will be clear which directions to follow.”

I made my way towards the entrance he had pointed at when I heard him mumble to himself, “why did I had to drive a barbarian?”

As I turned around, the car’s engine had been running again. I wasn’t sure if he could see me, nor I did I really care. I showed my middle finger to the car anyway. Asshole.

Never had I seen an airport before. It was freaking massive, people walking in all possible directions. Some carrying luggage with them, others with balloons that read “we missed you” or “welcome home”.

One day, my fam and I will be waiting at the airport, carrying one of those dumb balloons around. Coming to pick up dad.

I snapped out of my daydream by someone tapping me on my shoulder. “Miss Hayes, please come with me.”

Nodding, I followed the person not really having another choice since I had no clue which way I had to go. Maybe this is some insane kidnapper.

My heartbeat increased; did I just make a stupid mistake?

“Only one girl has arrived so far. You are to wait for the others before you can board the plane.”

Okay, no insane kidnapper then.

Unless.

This is a complete setup created by his crazy brain.

Panic filled my body, damnit how will I get out of this situation.

Okay, if I just push the person onto the floor, that will give me a chance to run for my life.

One.

Two.

Three.

I took a deep breath in, ready to make the push. But at the last minute the person side stepped which caused me to lose my balance. He looked at me in a very funny way, “please take a seat, the flight attendant will come get you in a few minutes.”

My cheeks turned very very warm, the redness might very well have equalled the red colour of a traffic light.

Trying to calm myself down, I slumped down into a chair. Yikes, only now became I aware of it again. My socks were still wet and cold. Sigh.

After taking a few deep breaths in and out, I noticed the other girl.

“Oh hey, you’re also a Selected?” I started, realizing it wouldn’t be a bad thing to talk to someone.

She turned towards me, “I am Brooke Lynn Sanders, but just call me Brooke please!”

Not knowing what else to do, I waved at her a little awkwardly. “hi Brooke, nice to meet you. My name is Octavia, but please call me Tavi.”

“Nice to meet you Octavia. Did you have a good journey?” I could already tell she did have the lady-like manners I had been lacking.

Oh god, I couldn’t possibly tell her about the drooling situation, so I decided to stick to a vague answer. “Yeah, it was alright thanks. What about your own journey? Which province are you from?”

“My send off from Dakota was a bit bumpy but I am here now. I wish they would have let me take the train though...”

Another girl arrived, also looking very much like someone the prince could end up with. Compared to these two, I was more of a rag doll.

Pushing my feelings behind that wall deep inside me, I waved her over, “oh yeah hi, please join us.”

We chatted some more for a bit, until Haven arrived.

The way she was walking, the only person I had seen walking like that was Long-Beard Logan, the homeless guy who could often be found near New Wave Records. He walked the same way, but he had one wooden leg.

Then Haven opened her mouth, a weird voice coming out, “hi.”

I noticed Brooke shared my confusion, “uhm hello?”

She took out her phone and typed something, it read ‘I’m Haven’.

My confusion hadn’t ebbed away, “are you alright?”

She typed some more, ‘yup:)) just got a bad cold! what are your names?’.

As a response to that we all introduced ourselves again. These girls didn’t seem to be that bad, hopefully the other Selected at the palace were the same. But the chance of that being true was small. Also, why did I care what the other girls were like? I wasn’t there to make friends, with them or with the prince. I had applied for the thing I needed most. Access to the royal library.

“Have you guys ever been on a plane before? This is all very new to me.” I admitted, trying to ease the nerves that had been building up inside me ever since my name had been picked in that draw.

Brooke had a very strong opinion on planes. Private planes more specifically.

Which came as a shock to me. The private plane part. I didn’t know what I was thinking but taking a private plane had never crossed my mind.

In the meantime, Brooke started talking about the CO2 emissions.

“How else would we get to the palace without having an endless journey? It’s not like there’s a teleportation device, right?” I said a little more vicious than I intended. The higher castes used planes all the time, if anyone had a cause in the destruction of our planet it was definitely them.

Brooke definitely had thought of it all, as she mentioned the outstanding quality of the Illéan train system. Clara chimed in to agree with her.

I decided to not mention my exact thoughts about the higher castes, given the fact that I had promised my friends back home not to insult anyone. So I just nodded my head, “yeah okay I understand your point.”

We were able to board the plane shortly after that. Brooke sat down in a window-seat and Clara nestled herself in the seat next to Brooke’s.

I took a chair on the opposite side of the plane, trying to create some sort of privacy for myself without being rude.

Haven sat down in the seat next to me and smiled at me.

The entry door closed; I could no longer contain my nerves. “Here we go I guess.” I tried to calm my breathing, but it didn’t really help. I tried to think of my family back home in Denbeigh, didn’t help either. I heard my dad’s voice in my head, it was like he was actually talking to me, “You are a strong girl, the flight will be over before you know it. Octavia, you can do this.”

A weird sound whisked my dad’s voice away, I looked over towards the source of the sound. It was Brooke choking on her drink. “Please don’t die,” I said. Her dying here would be a shitty start to this whole adventure. Besides, Brooke actually seemed like a nice person.

She coughed, “I am – I am trying.”

Haven mentioned her sibling, how they were close and stuff. She then asked if we had any siblings ourselves.

This provided me with the perfect distraction. I turned towards her, “yeah, I have three siblings. One older brother, a younger sister and a younger brother as well.”

Normally I would never share such personal information with someone I had just met but talking about them was the distraction I so desperately needed from this whole plane situation.

The others talked some more, but I just realized the one and only thing that would get me through this.

Music.

“If you guys don’t mind, I’m gonna listen to some music.” I said as I took my earphones out of my bag. “Haven would you like to join?” I asked her politely, given that she was sitting right next to me and it would have been quite rude otherwise.

She smiled at me and nodded, so I handed her one of the earphones. “I do have a very mixed taste in music so you’re in for a treat.” Maybe I could even make her listen to our own music, you know casually extending Five Whispers’ audience.

As a reply, Haven winked at me, “I love a girl with mixed music taste.”

Oh who would have thought, I had something in common with another Selected. I too liked people with a diverse music preference, since music says so much about a person. The quote ‘You are what you listen to’ was on one of the walls of New Wave Records music store. It was also my own personal life motto.

Clara and Brooke continued chatting, but I didn’t listen anymore. The music had taken a hold on me and it had only released me from its grip when the plane hit the ground in Angeles.

#selectionoc #practice challenge #fic

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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779

Do you ever wonder how Atheist people raise their kids? Honestly, yes. I’ve spent my whole life being raised by staunch Catholics, so as someone who converted to atheism very early on and ended up disagreeing with Christian doctrine, I’ve always been jealous of kids from atheist/irreligious families because they aren’t stuck following the same bullshit traditions like I do.

Just as well, it also makes me nervous about having kids. While I plan to raise an irreligious family, I never had that experience for myself so it’s uncharted territory for me. I wouldn’t be sure how to explain religion and atheism to them, and I don’t know how others would perceive them, given that I live in a Catholic country. I guess all I’m saying is I don’t know how to raise my kids as irreligious and still make sure they aren’t bullied or persecuted for it.

If you're atheist, would you raise you kids believing in God or not? No. I will introduce them to religions if they start asking or once they’re old enough, and I’d reassure them that if any one of them resonates with them, they can believe in it and I’ll be fine with it, as long as a) it helps them be a better and responsible person, b) they don’t try to convert me, and c) as long as it’s not some sort of cult that makes them abandon their families or worship some random tree lol

How long does it usually take you to finish answering a survey? It’s always different. There are always various factors, like how busy I am, or how invested I am in a survey, or how long the survey itself is.

Do you spell it gray or grey? I use both spellings and I just switch em up whenever I feel like doing so.

If you make surveys, how do you decide about its title? I’ve never made my own. I feel like I wouldn’t be able to come up with good questions.

When are you going back to school? There’s only one more instance I’m required to go back to school, and that’s when I graduate. When that will be I still don’t know, but I’m holding on to the fact that I’ll also get my own physical ceremony.

If you don't go to school anymore, what do you do? Wasting this quarantine away while finishing up my undergraduate thesis, aaaaand hopefully securing a job in the next few months.

Do you care about other people's status messages? Status messages? I care if it’s a sweet and wholesome status? like if someone posted a birthday message for their grandparent or if one of my journalist friends released an article and I wanna show my support. Mostly though I just scroll through Facebook for the funny content.

Do you like reading self help books? Not a fan of those books. I’ve always preferred figuring things out on my own.

What is your opinion on sex change? If it’s going to make you happier and/or feel more comfortable in your own skin, then go for it. < Perfectly put. You do you, no one has the business to tell you what to do with your own body and your own happiness.

Do you think that this will take away the essence of gay pride? My...opinion??? I don’t think it would affect that at all lol?

What do you do when you tell a really bad joke? I acknowledge it and say something along the lines of “Well that bombed.” It takes some of the awkwardness off and can even make the moment funny.

If you're still a virgin, how important is your virginity to you? I didn’t think much of it when I still had it, honestly. I wasn’t in a hurry to have sex for the first time, but I didn’t think of it in terms of virginity. I simply wasn’t ready, and I waited until I was.

If you have lost it already, do you regret it? No. There’s nothing to feel regret for, because again I never really thought about virginity.

Do you think you were completely ready then or do you wish you've waited? I was. I trusted her, and that was the one thing I needed to be ‘ready.’

Do you believe in marriage? Why or why not? Sure. I just do, and I guess it’s because I haven’t gone through a certain event that would change my mind about it. I grew up surrounded by couples who have been married forever, so I’ve always just been conditioned that marriage is successful. Of course I’ve learned that it’s not always, but at the end of the day I do want it for myself.

Do you like having a huge group of friends or would you rather have few close friends? I have both and they each have their strong suits. I like being in a big group if we’re going out to drink or party. But I also like having a smaller inner circle that knows me to my core and that I can have more intimate hangouts with.

Do you have any goals for this summer? If so, what are they? Yeah. I wanted to travel to somewhere new in Asia, like Thailand, and volunteer for PAWS for a bit before starting on my job-hunting. Now I have to go straight to the latter ugh.

Or do you plan on getting a summer job? Or do you already have one? Summer jobs aren’t really a thing here, but my first taste of doing work was for my internship last year.

If so, where do you work and what do you do?

Do you watch the TV Show Skins? If so, who's your favorite character? I don’t.

And which generation do you prefer? Or do you equally love both? I’ve never seen the showwwwwww.

Do you know someone who still typpe thiszz wayy? Not anymore, unless they’re doing it as a joke.

Would you take a break after graduating from high school (like, postpone going to college for a year or so)? No. I never liked the idea of taking a gap year for myself. My dad has busted his ass off working overseas my entire life, and I don’t want to take a whole year just for myself because it’ll just make him have to work much longer. The faster I finish schooling, the quicker I’ll be qualified for a job, the shorter he has to wait until he can finally stay in the country for good.

Do you feel tired after stretching? Not really? It makes me feel more energized, if anything.

Can you get a strike at bowling? No, I’m quite awful at bowling and prefer having those barrier thingies at the sides so that my ball doesn’t go to the gutter haha. It’s still fun to play though.

Do you use Facebook? If so, what is your favorite application there? I use Facebook to look at what people are posting, but I don’t use the apps. I did use Everwing for a long time in the past though.

It seems like everyone's addicted to Twitter these days - are you? I’m generally obsessed with Twitter but with nothing happening in my life during quarantine, I’ve been using it less in the last few weeks cause there’s nothing to tweet about anymore lol. I’m sure once things go back to normal, I’ll start using it a lot again.

#survey #surveys

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sirplastik · 4 years

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DFW 3: My gentle request? I’ve got a list of non-negotiables…

Hi fam, this is the third of a series of letters I’m writing supposedly to that special one, whomever she actually turns out to be…in these letters, I hope to address certain issues concerning relationships and society which many probably overlook as well as issues that guys don’t usually have the guts to talk about…everything expressed in here is fully from my view of things and it is purposefully meant to get you laughing and thinking at the same time. It is also meant to raise questions in your mind concerning certain seemingly common practices and phenomena and I hope you do enjoy the read…I promise subsequent letters would be shorter…lol

DISCLAIMER: In light of recent happenings and events, and knowing full well the ability of my Ghanaian folk to misread and misappropriate things, I must clarify that this letter and its content was written in 2019 and today’s post was also scheduled then. Medaase:). Everything else is coincidental…lol

Hey you,

It’s me again. How are you? I hope life’s been treating you kindly — more than it has me. As I type this, I can’t help but wonder what you’re doing at this very moment, what you’ve been up to lately and what you’re probably thinking when it comes to me — I’m scared to even dare to know. Well, you know, Val’s day was just this Friday and the hullabaloo was extensive. Did you have fun? Good, honest fun ooo!!

I hope no son of Adam misbehaved or they’ll have me to deal with soon.

Soon is the key word here cos, as far as I know, you still have no clue as to my identity yet even though I’m pretty sure (am I?) we’ve finally met.

Yeah, also, great change! I no longer think you’re the one playing pilolo or “police-and-thief” or “hide-and-seek” with me. Lately, I’m starting to realise that, perhaps, the blame lies solely at my doorstep: I’m starting to think that, maybe, I’m the reason we’ve still not met nor introduced ourselves as we should; maybe you’re not being so elusive after all but, rather, I just suck at finding you!! That’s a huge thing to admit, especially for me but, sometimes, denial does a man no good. In my defence though, almost all my role models when it comes to “wife finding” didn’t struggle one bit; dudes either slept or stayed home and waited for their baes to be delivered at their doorstep — no sweat at all!!!

And their marriages were long lasting too!!!

See Adam; dude slept so soundly that anaesthesia wasn’t needed when his chest had to be opened for a bone to be removed to facilitate the undertaking and successful completion of a creation process. See the English describing that process alone ooo. Hmm. Dude slept through it all without blinking an eye. How???

See the pain of surgery ooo, he didn’t feel a thing!!

I mean, this dude was opened up, sawed through for his rib — rib paa ooo

when someone even hits your ribs koraa see how painful it is

— and resealed and he didn’t feel a thing! That’s the proper definition of sleep!! He woke up, saw his wife; knew what had transpired, started prophesying by-heart and just enjoyed life with her for hundreds of years, through each and every wahala. No stressful chasing and yobbing and toasting bia!!! Isn’t such a guy a good role model?

See senior man Isaac too; dude was dada-ba complete: with soft palms like mine and gentility like me pɛpɛɛpɛ.

If you want evidence, read his story. He dug wells saa cos he didn’t like confusion – just like me!!!

In fact, I’m not surprised I’m named after him cos character-wise, I identify with him waa more than any old testament biblical character; our mentality and way of living — it’s like I’m a photocopy but even him koraa, finding Rebecca was no wahala at all!! Popii AB just sent the ninja squad to their hometown to go find bae; all Ike had to do was go relax somewhere and wait — no stress, just d-bee tins. Even the ninja squad sent didn’t hustle; Rebecca was just unveiled and they came back home. Isn’t this one too another good role model?

So why is it that me pɛ diɛr, none of these methods are working for me? Huh, I’ve slept saa – no show, I’ve also relaxed and waited saa – still, no show…why??? Why aren’t you allowing God to speak to you and unveil you? Me diɛr, he has told me about you dadaada, I’m just waiting for you to show your face but you dey do long tins.

If I come and tell you tins too aaa, you’ll think I’m just trying to throw dust into your eyes…why???

I’ve blamed the economy, I’ve blamed Mahama, I’ve blamed Akufo-Addo, I’ve even blamed social media but madam, finally, enough is enough…woman, show thy face!! Ahba!!! If me koraa you’re not seeing me aaa, can’t you also come looking for me? Lol. Now see what you’ve caused; I’m sitting here blaming myself, doubting my roles models en tins…it’s not good! Show yourself la!!

You, lemme motivate you…if you show your face ASAP, I’ll give you alewa…oya! Hurry!! Lol.

On a more serious note, nowadays, I’m feeling more and more like Adam in the garden (before Eve) each passing day. I’m finding myself wondering who you are, where you are and what it’s gonna take to finally locate you. Maybe, indeed, it’s me but like I always say, it usually takes two to tango. I’m really hopeful however that time is up for us to meet. I feel it more and more each day and I can’t wait to put a face to the image I’ve been shown.

Anyhow, how have you found letters 1 and 2? Your friends have been enjoying them ooo; laughing all over left, right, centre. More importantly too, I’m deeply touched that most of them are finding the underlying messages worthy of consideration and wise – that surely gladdens my heart. I hope my cooking skills, or the lack thereof, haven’t contributed to the long wait for your unveiling.

Please I won’t burn the gari soakings wai – I promise. Eii. Lol.

Lately, my relationship with food has been topsy-turvy and your entrance might help resolve the dilemma. I apologise though that I didn’t write earlier as promised. There’s a lot I’ve been dealing with or struggling with; I’ll tell you more when you appear…no worries, but I’m here now so let’s get going…

To be frank, after letters 1 and 2, all I’ve wanted to write to you about, with no confusion or second thought, is the topic or theme of this letter. After putting you on the back foot (in letter 1) and then placing my head on the chop board (in letter 2) to even the score, it seemed appropriate to tackle this topic to set the ball rolling again without putting either of us under the gun. I felt this could serve as a unifying issue; one we both would agree needs addressing looking at the current state of affairs in our society. What am I talking about?

WEDDINGS!!!

Bae, I must admit that whilst I LOVE and appreciate the whole concept, design and idea of marriage, the companionship and intimacy it presents, and the appeal of going through life with someone you know and trust will always have your back, no matter what, I HAVE NEVER REALLY LIKED THE IDEA OF WEDDINGS! At least, with how, we do them over here.

If you don’t know by now, I’m not really a people person nor very comfortable in crowds, I prefer intimacy and one-on-one situations cos that’s when I feel a bit of control over my environment so, weddings, by the nature of how we organise them here, have never really appealed to me.

I have always struggled to understand why there has to be so much pomp and pageantry for a journey that is only just beginning and why such a big deal has to be made of the event. Of course, I understand what a wedding stands for and I also understand the cultural connotations of most of these celebrations but with the current trend of things, I somewhat feel vindicated that, as a people, we’ve truly lost touch with what really matters in these things.

Lemme explain…

A couple of years ago, my friends and I (all guys) sat down to watch some wedding videos; Christian wedding videos. We started with our friends from the Western world…lemme clarify, WHITES and watched some beautiful ceremonies; intimate, meaningful and beautiful events. Each ceremony was different, had moderate crowds of clearly close friends and family and had unique elements differentiating them from the rest; elements which always had to do with the story of the bride and groom.

Intimate…

Everything at these ceremonies, from colours to décor to location to guests to arrangements had particular meaning to the bride and groom and finding out these things added more emotion and meaning to the event. Indeed, it was beautiful to watch. One couple hanged old picture frames (without the pictures) and shoes and other stuff on strings in a forest setting and explained why to the wedding party and in the video. Finding out why made watching the event more touching and intimate. For another couple, the groom wore an odd shirt of weird colours and my first inclination was to insult him for looking so shabby on such a day only to find out there was a deep reason behind the wearing of the shirt and even the colour scheme. My words got stuck in my mouth!

Every event was full of meaning and purpose and they fully knew why they were doing things the way they did. The style of shooting for the video also added to it. They focused on the relationships and not the décor and accessories.

For 3 or more grown ass guys to sit down and enjoy these videos should tell you a great deal about how awesome they were. More so, these events were colourful and lively but not showy. The couples looked happy — very happy and so did guests!! No one looked tired in them and no one seemed out of place in any of them. Everyone present was full of cheer and their joy was palpable even when caught off-guard by the cameras. They were there to share in the joy of the couple!

From there, we moved to Asia…still Christian weddings, theirs were a bit flashy and flamboyant but still everything held meaning and everything captured relationships.

you naa go confess…

Three hours later after loads of teary moments (yes, dudes cry too) and aww moments, I made the momentous mistake of asking us to switch to African and Ghanaian weddings.

In the words of Chinua Achebe (paraphrased), “THINGS FELL APART!!!”

Suddenly, we were no more watching intimate and meaningful events anymore but, rather, fashion galores and dancing competitions and silly activities all in the name of weddings. That drop in meaningfulness and relevance of this sacred event caught us all off-guard. Suddenly, all of us were annoyed, disappointed and feeling depressed at the same time. After a few videos, we could barely continue so we stopped but one thing hanged in the air WHERE DID WE GO WRONG?

African and Ghanaian wedding videos always began with a shot of the expensive accessories and wedding accoutrements and then to some fake acting by the 2 parties and then to the expensive cars and event venues and colourful dressings. It was full of pomp and pageantry (which in itself isn’t a bad thing if it can be afforded) yet very lacking of meaning, purpose, intimacy and relevance.

What’s worse? The couple always looked tired and sweaty, guests looked drained and unhappy and only smiled when they realised the camera was on them. Speeches were long, boring and repetitive and everything was about a show of wealth and status and all the events looked crowded. If it wasn’t old, unsmiling folks looking all glum and uninterested at the youthful exuberances occurring around them, it was some stressed folk clearly wondering why food hadn’t been served already. In a hindsight, it was hard to watch. Make-ups were the highlight of all the videos with everyone trying to show off one way or the other and yet again, all I could wonder was HOW DID WE GET IT SO WRONG?

How did we manage to put materialism above relationship in every facet of our society? And why did it not bother us that we were doing things so wrong? Well, dear, I still don’t have the answers to these but in all this, I had an epiphany, about our wedding, and as epiphanies go, this is it:

OUR WEDDING IS GOING TO BE ABOUT US:

about us waa…

about us thanking God for introducing us (as He finally will. Lol) and for Him gracing us to begin the journey of lifelong marital bliss, about us sharing this intimate moment with “chosen” friends and family who share in this joy and for whom this day would have great meaning, and about us controlling what gets to be portrayed whenever the story of our wedding gets told. How???

Firstly, as for me, this is non-negotiable ooo; our wedding is going to be STRICTLY BY INVITATION, even for family members. It is paramount that whomever gets to witness us tying the knot be someone who is considered either a dear friend or close family. After all, why would anyone who has made no contribution to our story be allowed to be there on that day simply because they know us or are relations? These are the same people who come and display no joy, fight over food, sneer at everything, make Shatta-Wale-like congratulatory faces and leave with all sorts of unflattering reports!! These are the same people who inflate wedding budgets without adding any value to the ceremony and make all the fuss!! Why should we allow just anybody to show up on our day? Nope!! I’m not following that trend!!! And I know you’ll agree. Even if this means 15 people or 5 are present on that day, I’ll still choose that over 200 people showing up for no reason at all. Don’t you think so?

Secondly, everything about our wedding; from location choice to date to colours to décor to arrangements to program line-up to music to food and so on must have special meaning for us. Anyone fortunate to be present that day should leave with that feeling of love and intimacy sharing in someone’s love story should bring. Guests must leave having a notion of why things were done the way they were and why trend was not followed. They must leave questioning the status quo and rejoicing with God for us. One major area especially is the music and reception program, everything must be meaningful to us and relevant whilst remaining intimate and impacting whomever is there with the consciousness of why they are there. No cheesy annoying trends bia will be allowed.

Thirdly, no Oluman nor Old lady is taking a microphone at any point in time to give a long speech about “awareɛ no kwan wa!!” especially when they have no clue who we are anyway.

Those folks are part of the uninvited ones koraa. Lol.

Nothing annoys me at weddings more than those long, boring, fruitless and recycled speeches. Anyone to speak at the event will be pre-selected and the pattern of speech given; emphasis of your relationship with us, knowledge of our relationship and its growth, the impact of it thereof, the lessons from it, brief meaningful and Godly counsel for the road ahead (NO RECYCLED MATERIALS ALLOWED) and blessings interspersed with humour and a bit of teasing, if necessary. Even our parents, if selected to speak, must follow this pattern and STRICTLY (of course, they are gladly allowed to embarrass us at will). The only soul permitted to lecture us about the length of marriage will be the officiating minister and even then, we’ll have a chat first. Lol. All speeches MUST BE FROM THE HEART and must focus on the relationship. This, for me, is also NON-NEGOTIABLE. The traditional event will be for the oldies to do their thing…no yawa but as for the “white” wedding and reception, NA LIE!!!

no oluman tins

Again, another essential non-negotiable is the usage of mobile phones at the wedding. In every video watched that fateful evening, no other culture had this issue but Ghana and Nigeria. Wedding guests in all the Western and Asian weddings conducted themselves with utmost reverence to the event and usage of phones were very minimal but coming down to our zone, oh no! Everyone at each wedding seemed to be a paparazzo; taking pictures and holding phones throughout, never truly partaking in the ceremony and making the hired photo and videographers basically useless. THAT WILL NOT BE OUR TESTIMONY!! Indeed, all invited guests will have their phones collected, catalogued and safely stored for the entirety of the ceremony. No temptations allowed. They will be allowed to actually be a part of the celebration and not be distracted. If they want selfies after the event, why not? Their phones will be with them by then anyway. I won’t pay any photographer to come and compete with any Kofi Wayo for space and best shots. Why??

waaa see!!

Bae, another thing which irks me about our events over here are the photoshoots; be it pre, during or post. Lately, I have resolved to personally greet couples who invite me to their events so they register my presence. This enables me to avoid that time wasting period of photoshoots which reminds me of my days in primary school. Smh. You see, whilst I get the importance of these pictures to the couple, I have grown to understand that our way of going about it is ridiculous, cumbersome and time-wise, wasteful. Why does everyone who shows up have to snap a picture? Even when they don’t want to. That is a not not in my book and I have figured a way round the issue I’m sure you would love (hwɛ! I’m not sharing all my secrets here wai…lol). As for pre-wedding shoots, for someone who plans to have a strictly by invitation ceremony, I’m sure and hopeful you won’t expect us to announce it to folks, when most won’t be able to attend. That would be downright cruel! So yeah, no pre-wedding shoot wahala – they annoy me pass.

warris this???

If we need one or 2 for the invites, well you’ll have a lot of convincing to do. Hehe. As for post, well, marriage is a long road, there will surely be a lotta pics.

I’m sure most people who know me will be surprised by what I’m about to write next but it is also a non-negotiable for me; I DO NOT INTEND TO HAVE MY WEDDING IN A CHURCH AUDITORIUM!! Mind you, I didn’t say I don’t want a Christian wedding — I will definitely have one, a Spirit-filled one but it will be an outdoor event or if even indoors, NOT A CHURCH AUDITORIUM! Like I wrote earlier, control of the ceremony is important and I’ve witnessed enough of these kinds of weddings to know I don’t want any of that. If it requires we do the legalities at the court or church earlier or later or even getting the chosen location registered for the event – fine, but exchange of vows before God won’t be in a church building. I hope this isn’t a deal breaker for you. Now with that cleared, obviously the above means there won’t be any collection or offertory whatsoever at the event. NO! if anyone or group or organisation invited, or otherwise, wishes to bless us with money or gifts freely and willingly, they will be encouraged to do so and a means of getting it to us safely will be provided to all guests before and on the day. There will be no collection time or fundraising during the ceremony. I don’t even know where we learnt that from, to be honest!!! If anything, I’ll wish we rather surprise our guests but we’ll talk more on that when we meet.J

Indeed, if I decide to list every little thing I’ll prefer we change, this letter might exceed legendary limits so I’ll add just one more critical no-no for me: NO KING AND QUEEN SIZED CHAIRS FOR US TO SIT ON AT THE RECEPTION!! I dunno who introduced that culture to our weddings and I dunno why it caught on like wildfire. Maybe, I’m weird but these chairs have always annoyed me. What happened to having one long table and simple chairs where the bride and groom, bridal party and some selected folks can sit together? I liked that setup better! Let’s do that please.

Loads of couples have looked awkward and uncomfortable in those isolated positions and the chair sizes made it worse. Weddings are about sharing joy so why isolate us from everyone else and in ridiculous chairs for that matter? I’ve never gotten that concept!!

I know it’s widely perceived that guys aren’t interested in the organisation of weddings and, in a way, this is true but you’ll be surprised it is largely due to some of these things I have outlined and the commotion they bring with them. You’ll be the boss of your organisation; I’ll be delighted to not interfere but my hope is that these non-negotiables won’t be a problem but will simply be incorporated in the planning.

Seriously though, lately, I have had great issue with how we organise weddings and the lack of purpose and meaning attached to them. Aside colours and attire issues, I dare you to ask any wedding couple in this country why a certain song or item or moment is part of their event and I bet you they wouldn’t know. We have become so generic and followers of trends that we do things without really understanding why we are doing them. I’ve attended weddings of supposed Christian and witnessed things which left me with many questions and doubts as to the authenticity of the faith being professed and this shouldn’t be so. I know people cite the wedding Jesus attended at Cana and the fact that wine was served as a defence mostly but the truth is CHRISTIANITY DIDN’T EXIST THEN. Yes, Christ had not yet died and resurrected. Judaism was the order of the day and that wedding, in question, followed the rules of Judaism to the latter. Read your bible well.

If we say Christianity is a way of life then, indeed, we must know it has a culture; one which, in all our activities, must be displayed. If there is, therefore, no orderliness, meaningfulness and purposefulness attached to your celebrations of marital union, if no one leaves with a conviction of how truly good your God is after your ceremony, then weytin you gain?

Christ bought us at a great cost thus our lives and everything we do must express our gratitude for this gift. Of course, at such events, culture must have its place but it is about time we showed the difference between a Christian wedding and a worldly one. Mind you, I said Christian wedding NOT CHURCH wedding.

I’m tired of attending meaningless events, generic ceremonies and occasions where nothing holds any relevant meaning — funerals are even worse — and I hope you are too, my dearly beloved.

I am determined to be a symbol of God’s LOVE and TRUTH wherever I am and in whatever I do and I know that is your desire too so I’m not worried. Together, we will break barriers and myths, massacre wrong and devilish trends, create better ones and show the world what truly should be done. Hopefully, by our faithfulness and boldness to stand for what we believe in, we will inspire a new generation of believers to break through trends and have purposeful and meaningful weddings and events.

Let’s get our society back on track!!!

In ending, babe, remember, EVERYTHING IS PERMISSIBLE, BUT NOT EVERYTHING IS HELPFUL. EVERYTHING IS PERMISSIBLE, BUT NOT EVERYTHING BUILDS UP (1 Corinthians 10:23, ISV).

Beautiful…

Also, the most important character to build towards a fruitful marriage is one of LOVE, FORGIVENESS and UNDERSTANDING. I know they sound cliché but the Holy Spirit has taken time to school me on these 3 and opened my eyes to see things in a way that is very different to the patterns out there, even in church. I plan to teach you all I know and to learn also from you, for the journey ahead is much more possible and plausible together. Get ready to get your mind blown by some of these revelations and yeah, don’t let my folks get in your head when you arrive wai. Lol.

Also, never forget, you’re beautiful just the way you are, and I won’t go a day without telling you. I do know you will be amazing because I’m the apple of God’s eye and he only has the best in store for me. He’s my guide so I know I’m safe.

As always, stay safe and remain in Him (AND SHOW YOUR FACE)…

Meet you soonest…

Yours truly,

A crazy Ghanaian lad.

(Written by; Agostino.)

Ok…so now that you’re done laughing or scowling…lol…hurry up and harass the SHARE buttons…COMMENT and LIKE first though…I’m watching!!!…lol

Glossary:

La/ahba/eii/hwɛ/diɛr/wai/paa/paa ooo/koraa/bia/saa/waa/aaa/ooo; a local expression to indicate exasperation/surprise/emphasis.

Pilolo; a local children’s game

Wahala; trouble

Yobbing; winning a girl’s heart by excessive flattery

Dada-ba/d-bee; born with a silver spoon in your mouth/rich kid/pampered kid

Pɛpɛɛpɛ; exactly

Cos; because

Popii; affectionate form of Father/Dad

Tins; things

Pɛ; alone

Dadaada; already/long ago

Dey; can mean a lot of things depending on context; in letter context, are

En; and

Lemme; let me

Mahama, Akufo-Addo; surnames of the immediate ex and current presidents of Ghana. They are to blame for a lot!

Shatta-Wale; Stonebwoy’s ex-nemesis (refer to VGMA 20 for context…lol); Beyoncé’s friend

Oluman; old man

Awareɛ no kwan wa; a local adage literally meaning marriage is a long road

NA LIE; it’s a lie!

Kofi Wayo; where is that man???

Lotta; lot of

Dunno; don’t know

Weytin; contextually, what have?

Bae; Babe/Baby

DEAR FUTURE WIFE (letter 3; the humble request)… DFW 3: My gentle request? I’ve got a list of non-negotiables… Hi fam, this is the third of a series of letters I’m writing…

#african weddings #bride #christian #christian weddings #church #future #ghanaian weddings #letter #love #marriage #wedding #wife

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latoyarubalcava3546 · 6 years

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Anthony Bourdain Opened Up About Asia Argento, Fatherhood, & His 'Happiest Moments' In Revealing Interview Before His Death

Those who loved Anthony Bourdain still have so many questions for him. And shockingly they may actually get a couple answered.

The late celeb chef and world traveller did an interview with Popula back in February that was just published on Sunday -- and it may offer new insights into the final months of his life.

Related: Bourdain Took Part In A "Death Ritual" With Darren Aronofsky

He talked about the awe he had for his daughter, the love he had for girlfriend Asia Argento, and the greatest moments of his life.

See the highlights (below):

On Hating Taking Vacations And Never Retiring

"I wondered about this; I've stopped wondering. I'd entertained the notion that I'm working toward a goal, or a day, where I could sit on a Tuscan hilltop in a hammock with a big stack of books, but I understand now that I couldn't… that I can't do that. I can do that for short periods of time. But I can't. I can't.

It's helped me a lot that Asia is the same way. That there's no shame in this, you know… She'll point out the ridiculousness of kicking back on the beach, because she'll say right up front… 'This doesn't appeal to me at all! This is a living death.'

I can't do it. I can do it for a few days at a time...

Like I'll finish a book or something like, an entire season of the show? And I'll look at the calendar and realize I have three weeks of nothing, which… seemed like a really good idea for the rest of the year. But during that period immediately after unburdening myself of this pile of frantic work—that's when I go into a panic and I start overcommitting to a lot of projects, maybe comfortably removed from that date but I do suddenly feel like: What do I do now?

I need deadlines, I need pressure, I need my mind to be working."

On His Happiest Moments Traveling The World

"I do find that my happiest moments on the road are not standing on the balcony of a really nice hotel. That's a sort of bittersweet—if not melancholy—alienating experience, at best. My happiest moments on the road are always off-camera, generally with my crew, coming back from shooting a scene and finding ourselves in this sort of absurdly beautiful moment, you know, laying on a flatbed on those things that go on the railroad track, with a putt-putt motor, goin' across like, the rice paddies in Cambodia with headphones on… this is luxury, because I could never have imagined having the freedom or the ability to find myself in such a place, looking at such things.

To sit alone or with a few friends, half-drunk under a full moon, you just understand how lucky you are; it's a story you can't tell. It's a story you almost by definition, can't share. I've learned in real time to look at those things and realize: I just had a really good moment."

On Raising His Daughter

"Asia said this to me. Children create themselves independently of us. All you can do is show, like in my case, my daughter feels loved. She knows she's loved. She has good self-esteem. Very important.

And good martial arts skills. So no man, no boy... she knows she can take any boy in her age group. That's all I can do as a father. I can't pick all of the things that, you know. I can't. She so far… ahead of me, I can't pick her music, her boyfriends, whatever, however she's going to turn out. I can give her these basic things...

I think how resolute she is, how much she wants to change the world, is willing to sacrifice in order to change the world, that's gonna have to come from within."

The Worst Fight He & Asia Ever Had

"The worst thing Asia ever said to me, she'd had a bad day, she was doing a play in uh, Turin? Somewhere in Italy. And she was rehearsing and she'd had a really bad day with the director. Dude, of course. And she comes home and she's fucking furious. And we're texting back and forth, cause we only argue by text. She's like, fucking angry, 'Fuck you too! You always wanna win! You always wanna win!'

I was really offended by this. I was so hurt by this. I do not need to win. I am not a competitive person. I need to survive... I don't need to be number one. I don't need to beat the fuck out of somebody. I don't need to be ahead. I just want to still be here at the end of the fuckin' day, doing what I'm doing, without anybody hassling me."

"I need to survive."

Damn.

Read the rest of the candid interview for talk about food, politics, and more HERE.

If you or someone you know is considering suicide, please contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255).

[Image via Instagram.]

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leighleighpresents-blog · 6 years

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Christopher Rice Interview

The surname “Rice” is synonymous with horror and thriller novels, and Christopher Rice is no exception. Being the son of author Anne Rice (Interview With The Vampire, Queen Of The Damned, etc) and poet Stan Rice, Christopher has certainly had the perfect environment to become an author himself.

I spoke to Christopher via Skype, and my partner noticed there was a big bookshelf behind him, and proceeded to ask if all the books were written by Christopher …

CR: No, those are actually all research books. One whole shelf is just about California, the history of California, Californian crimes, that sort of thing, and then I decided not to write a book about California, so that shelf sucks. Writers always do this sort of crap. We make big commitments that are more temporal than we’d like them to be, so whatever. I’ll write about California again.

QP: At least, when you decide to, you’ve got all the research handy.

CR: Yeah, exactly, there you go, planning ahead.

QP: With your books, especially with The Moonlit Earth, there are so many locations in Asia and the Middle East that are described with so much detail. Did you actually go there, or just do the research?

CR: I didn’t go to Saudi Arabia, but I did go to Thailand and Hong Kong, and I went over there believing most of the novel was going to be set in Thailand. The minute I got there, though, I thought “Oh my god, I could never set an entire novel here”. I just didn’t connect with the place, and it wasn’t the right stage-set for what The Moonlit Earth was becoming. It was becoming this icier story about financial corruption, basically, and the curse of power and wealth. Thailand was too decadent to accommodate that sort of place, so I took a whim to go to Hong Kong while I was over there, cos I’d always wanted to go there, and it just so happened that that trip became the real research I did while I was over there. I did use Thailand, and ironically I’m going to use Thailand in a different way in my new book, which I never expected, but at the time, it was a disappointed experience for me when I first got to Bangkok. I was very overwhelmed that I was there, but I was also very frightened of it, to be honest with you. It was a very developing nation for me, but the thing that got me right from when we came in from the airport was the number of skyscrapers that were half-constructed and just abandoned. Like, literally abandoned. There was no active construction happening, and no scaffolding. They were about 60 storeys tall, and built up to about 30 storeys, and they were clearly going to be these enormous condo developments when the Global Financial Crisis hit, and Thailand was booming, and these buildings were just abandoned. There was another one that was right on the river which they had abandoned because they had discovered that the foundation was sinking. It was very much like New Orleans, to be honest with you. It was a very corrupt place, very in love with itself, and in love with its own beauty and its own culture, in a way that it should be, but it just wasn’t right for The Moonlit Earth. The Moonlit Earth needed a place like Hong Kong, where it was all glass and steel, narrow streets, and an atmosphere of propulsion and momentum.

QP: I’ve never even left the East Coast of Australia, so reading The Moonlit Earth made me feel like I’d gone to Hong Kong and all the other locations.

CR: Yeah, and Kong Kong’s on your side of the world …

QP: I know. I haven’t even been to Tasmania, for crying out loud!

CR: The weirdest thing, and I got this when I was over there, is that people in my hemisphere don’t realise how long it takes to get from anywhere in Australia to anywhere else. I mean, I know how long it takes to get from L.A. to Australia, but, when I told people that Singapore to Sydney was about 8 or 9 hours, they were shocked. They had no idea, but that’s crossing all of Australia to make that trip.

QP: It sure does. By the way, I read somewhere that you don’t like being labelled as a “gay author”. Is that because you don’t like the stereotypes that come with that label, or just because you’d like the focus to be on your career as an author?

CR: I guess the reason, more to the point, is I just don’t really like labels. The reality is that, in the publishing world, there are certain labels that you embrace, and there are certain labels that you refuse. There’s certain labels that we’re all required to embrace, as they’re going to determine where we end up in the bookstore, and that’s the Genre label. The problem is there’s so much disagreement with what “gay writing” is, so if you embrace the label of “gay writer”, there’s so many different interpretations of what that means, and there’ll be a lot of confusion between readers about where you belong and where you end up. I mean, I did a lot of activism work on behalf of gay writers. I believe that if an author is actively writing, is openly gay, it doesn’t matter what they’re writing. They need to be supported and need to be advocated for, but there was a school of thought out there that, unless they were writing “gay material”, then screw them. If they were openly gay and referencing that, and referencing their partner, it didn’t matter if they were writing “straight” horror novels, and I didn’t believe that. I think we should all be trying to get along. The presumption is that a gay writer – and this is where I think the label gets really damaging when it’s misused – can’t write anything except about gay characters, and we’re called on to do more than that as writers. We’re meant to reach our hands out there to the world, travel outside our comfort zone. Everyone says to write about what you know, and that’s good advice for a writer when they’re starting out, but you don’t have to stay there. Start with what you know, and build on that, branch out from there, use your imagination.

QP: I totally agree. In terms of your writing, your first novel, A Density Of Souls, has a central character, Stephen, coming to terms with his sexuality, and from there, each book has moved further and further from this sort of scenario.

CR: Absolutely, and that’s an unpopular choice with some people, but that’s what I had to do. I couldn’t write that same book over and over and over again, it wouldn’t have worked for me. It’s also part of the reality when you publish a book at 21, and the book you publish at 31, if you’re fortunate enough to still be getting published at that age, will be different because you would have grown. I think personally the gulf between 21 and 45 is pretty enormous. I noticed it amongst my peers, so the idea that I was going to be able to establish some boiler plate for my novels at the age of 21, and then that I would be able to employ again and again and again, is a non-executable idea. What happened for me was, literally between the first and second book, even though they were published so close together, the major gay character in The Snow Garden, Randall Stone, became a lot more complicated than Steve was. With Steve, you knew what you were getting, he had one secret, and you found that out towards the end, but nothing about his identity was a secret, whereas everything about Randall Stone’s identity is a secret, and that was the hallmark about this character, he had made up his identity, and you find out how in the end, and so, even that caused some bristling. I got some emails saying that, because Randall’s character was having an affair with a married, supposedly heterosexual professor, that I was doing a gay take on Monica Lewinski and Bill Clinton, and that I shouldn’t be exploitive, and that gay people would be offended. There are always reactions, but it’s important to me not to write the same book all the time. I think it’s equally important to deliver some kind of catharsis, and I think that, if you do earn some loyal readers, they become loyal not necessarily to the characters hairstyle, or their manner of speaking, or the apartment they live in, or even the character itself, they become loyal to an emotion you set, to a world that ghosts through everything you write. They fall in love with the core of what you write, and not what is more superficial, because you don’t want them to be demanding the superficial elements all the time. If it’s a series, that’s a whole different story, but I’m not doing that.

QP: This is probably a question you’ve been asked a lot, but I’m curious myself. Being Anne Rice’s son, is there any part of you that wants to go into the vampire or general horror genre?

CR: Well, I’m not interested in vampires, but I am interested in horror. I grew up reading horror, and not just her horror – I don’t think she’d call them horror either, I think she’d call them dark fantasy maybe, or gothic fantasy – but when I grew up, I wanted horror. I wanted Stephen King and Dean Koontz, and I wanted monsters, whereas my mother was all about the romance of who we believe to be a monster, which I think is a huge driving force of the books, even today, but I was interested in more traditional horror – families under threat, monsters on the loose, evil force at the door, that kind of horror, and I read that up to this day. I have tremendous interest in doing that, and, if anything, I think I’ve been discouraged from doing it, which people might find ironic. They’d say “stick to your mysteries, because the minute you do a horror novel, the comparisons will be obvious”. To them, I can only say “if I can make it through the stuff that was said about me in the beginning, I think I’m going to be fine.” There were some pretty vicious reviews written about my early books, and that’s fine, there are bad reviews all over the place. So, if I can make it through that alive, I don’t know what they could throw at me today that would deter me from doing what I want to do.

QP: That’s very true. Getting back to your latest book, The Moonlit Earth, were there any real life people who were inspirations for the characters, or did they just develop on their own as you were writing?

CR: All the characters are composites. There’s a piece of me in every character, but I don’t ever really pluck someone from reality and throw them in a book. I think that would be too unnerving for me.

QP: Yeah, I guess so. Well, thanks so much for your time Chris, it was great talking to you. To end with, do you have any messages for our readers?

CR: Thank you so much for all your support and encouragement, and I guess I’d just like to tell everyone to keep reading and supporting the authors.

#Christopher Rice #gay #genq #author

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h0lybasil-blog · 7 years

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Facts Are Not Feelings

The double-edged sword of activism linguistics.

QUEER LANGUAGE

If you know me at all, we’ve probably gotten into a conversation about linguistics at some point.

I’m particularly interested in the way language affects our ability to connect with one another, and how what we say influences how we feel.

A lot of activists in the queer community are also quite concerned with linguistics, and it’s an issue every person seems to relate to differently.

This morning, I woke up to a thread of Facebook comments on a casting call I posted, requesting “male bodied humans”.

The word choice was intentional. I didn’t want to ask for “dudes” or “men” because a fair amount of the dudes and men I know have vaginas. While I love them and want to celebrate their bodies and experiences, this particular project required someone who inhabits a biologically male body, regardless of how they identify their gender, which is a totally personal detail, and doesn’t have a lot to do with the body you inhabit, in my opinion.

Usually, when I’m at work, I am usually “in drag” as a cis-woman - I am dressing the part that society expects when they see my physical form. I’m comfortable with this! I’m also comfortable when I leave the house in jeans and a backwards baseball cap. Because I don’t identify as either gender, dragging as both can be a fun experience, and a powerful way to play with image.

I’m here, I’m queer, and I’m doing my best.

How I choose not to identify seems to cause confusion in people who aren’t up on the “in-group slang” (aka people who exist within the bounds of mainstream culture) — I’m not a man, not a woman, not a feminist, not a liberal socialist, not an anything, really, as I believe identity politics only lead to frustration.

But Tate, didn’t you just tell us all that you’re “queer”?

Yes! I did. That is an identity. You caught me :) While I claim my queerness, I am still a human first. I think that might be what I mean by identity politics — letting a facet of your experience become the lens through which you interpret and interact with the rest of your experiences.

This is hard. I want to be kind and respectful to everyone. I also want to be able to express myself in a way that feels authentic.

This next thing is difficult to say, because I know it will upset some people who are passionate about social justice:

I’m tired of being yelled at. Especially on the internet.

Today, I was accused of marginalizing and contributing to the physical harm of trans people. Going back to labels and identity politics, I don’t choose to call myself trans, though multiple people have told me that technically I qualify as transgender, since I don’t fit into the socially expected gender of my body. I don’t identity as trans because I think that while the word may have a more inclusive annotative definition, it is my perception that transgenderism has been culturally understood as males who identify as women, or females who identify as men.

Let me take a minute to explain this, before you start scrolling to the comment section to tell me that “female” and “male” are improper ways to describe people’s bodies.

Male/female are the medical ways we describe most of the population’s genetic sex. To be crass, a person usually has a sex organ that is either an innie or an outie, and that sex organ usually determines the balance of hormones they have in their body, and the shape and appearance it takes overall. Taking out of the mix people who have modified their bodies with hormones and surgery (fuck yeah for the freedom to body modify!), I am fully aware that individuals exist who’s bodies generate hormone imbalances, or are intersex.

These people are valid, and I care about them. I care about everyone. I want all of us who feel less than supported and celebrated by our current social/political/economic system to be free from whatever is telling them they aren’t allowed to reach their full potential. Just because someone is different than you doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be respected.

A lot of people prefer to use “AFAB/AMAB” or “DFAB/DMAB” — assigned/designated female/male at birth. To me, these terms are practically analogous with “male/female bodied human”, though I can see the argument that FAB/MAB is more inclusive to people who are intersex, as it acknowledges their being marginalized/erased by the medical system.

So why use the clunky term “male/female bodied human” if it causes strife?

Well, I use “female bodied human” to refer to myself, as I find it to be validating of my gender in the many situations where I am qualified for participation due to my female sex, regardless of the fact that I don’t identify as a woman. Work, for one, when it involves playing a role, as it often does. (Quick shoutout to Asia Kate Dillon for using their notoriety to leverage a much-needed change in the entertainment industry!)

Just because a silly string of words makes me feel comfortable, it might not work for everyone. And I think we need to be okay with that!

PRONOUNS

This is something I have struggled with. I prefer “they/them/theirs” pronouns. It’s awkward to ask people to use what feel like foreign language to refer to me. Most who aren’t a part of the queer scene will be confused by me “referring to myself as multiple people”. In a lot of ways, that feels accurate and comfortable for me — it feels like a truer reflection of my multi-faceted human experience. (Not that cis-gendered people can’t have multi-faceted experiences…)

I don’t ever expect perfection, nor total understanding, but if someone wants to be in my life, I do expect them to try. It’s hard to understand someone’s existence that you can’t relate to, but that’s where empathy comes in. While pronouns may be tricky, I don’t think it’s hard to understand someone’s desire to be seen as their true self. I think everyone should have the opportunity to identify however feels authentic, and also to have the freedom to disengage with people who don’t desire to respect their self-perception.

It’s all personal choice!

I identify as human, and I use my human capacities to work towards the greatest good for all humans, as far as I can understand it. Seems simple, right?

As it turns out, not really. Society is big, and takes time to change. We do change, though! Less than one hundred years ago, I likely would have already been jailed for taking one of my love interests on a simple date. In this country’s short existence alone, we have come to see women as more than property, black people as more than slaves, and homosexuals as more than perverts. I know we can do this gender thing, but it’s going to take work.

In the English language, we regard pronouns as a “fixed class” of words. This isn’t technically true, as “fixed” in this case just means “harder to change”, not “permanent”. More than two classes of pronouns for humans is so new to the mainstream, it’s still just a little larvae of a concept. We have a while to go before alternative pronouns are a butterfly of language, free and easy.

EDUCATING THE MAINSTREAM or COMPASSIONATE ACTIVISM

This is not something I ever thought I would say, let alone publish, but I want to publicly thank my mom for getting into a comment debate on my Facebook page. She brought up some valid points, properly gendered me, and was gracious to a stranger who (I believe with good motives) angrily typed in her direction.

Let me paint a picture: my mom is a self-described “boring 52 year-old” real estate agent who lives in San Diego. It has taken years of learning how to share my feelings and preferences with her to help her understand my perspective and experience. The conversation has spanned over a decade, and took a lot of incremental retooling as I became more comfortable with myself, as well as a better communicator.

I started with yelling at her as a teen, and slowly moved through stages of avoidance, confrontation, and finally listening to her — letting her teach me how to ask for what I want from her. We have learned to meet each other halfway in our vastly different life experiences. While one of her best friends is publicly gay, she doesn’t have access to the young, queer scene up here in Los Angeles. Hardly anyone does.

In activist communities, there is a lot of conversation around wanting people who aren’t in the know to “self educate” before they even ask questionsabout someone’s life they can’t begin to understand. Have you ever thought that since these people are open and curious enough to ask questions, they might be worth a few moments of your time and knowledge?

I’ll be the first to admit, if I observe said person starting to speak combatively, I walk away. No one deserves to be the whipping boy of a bigot. I trust you, compassionate activist, to make the distinction between a naive, normal person and someone who is festering in their hatred for things they don’t understand (usually including themselves).

If we weirdos, as the self-appointed teachers of the rest of the known Universe, can take the time to educate ourselves on how to best express our thoughts and ideas, we might start getting somewhere. But please, no more yelling.

I’m not saying no yelling in general, just no yelling at people. If like me, you have neighbors, great places to yell are into a pillow, in your car, and that’s about it.

It is so explicitly important that we learn how to communicate in a way that invites others to experiences and revelations, rather than chastises them for not knowing the newest in-group slang. It’s not fair to be mad at someone for not knowing something that you didn’t know less than a year ago.

If you know something before others, congratulations! You get a chance to be a teacher. It’s one of society’s most esteemed — and poorly paid — positions. In fact, you’ll be doing this job for free. But you don’t care, because you believe in the cause of all people being treated with respect!

So, let’s start by mastering how we introduce our philosophical ideals. Let’s be kind and generous with people who we perceive to be less knowledgable than us.

NON-VIOLENT COMMUNICATION

I can’t recommend highly enough that anyone who does any kind of activism familiarize themselves with the concepts of NVC (Non-Violent Communication), which is self-described as a system of “skills that foster compassionate relating”. I’m not saying it’s a perfect system, but I think it’s a lot better than what we currently fumble with, which is a lot of blaming, name-calling, and CAPS ATTACKS — three things I’m sure your rational mind recognizes as inefficient ways to get people to listen to you.

But Tate, gender/queerness/feminism/racism/etc. are emotional issues! We aren’t allowed to be emotional about emotional issues!?

Yes, these issues have deep emotional ties, which is why the conversation is hard. I’m glad you have strong feelings about oppression! I do too. Let’s examine how we want to transmit our feelings about injustice to those who may not be so aware, in an attempt to bring them on our team of humanist do-gooders. (Yes, it’s probably because of privilege that they aren’t aware of the way that some people struggle. No, I don’t think using the word “privilege” is going to strengthen your argument. It’s still in-group slang.)

Calling someone an oppressor is not going to get them to listen, either. We have to stop blaming white people. We have to stop blaming straight people. We have to stop blaming men. Mainstream culture is a representation of the average social experience. Yes, we can look back and see that a lot of our societal infrastructure is the product of many years of non-consensual power imbalance, but that doesn’t mean that every straight white guy alive today has to pay for it. It’s no more their fault that our world is unfair than it’s your fault for being whatever you are.

I’m saddened by the number of awake, compassionate men I know who have expressed the only way they feel welcome in any political conversation is to shut up, and publicly reduce themselves to a string of insults, “I’m a hopelessly cis-straight-white guy”. Perpetuating the cycle of blame and shame is not what we need. We need everyone on board, inspired to be their most compassionate and inclusive selves. We can’t do this by alienating most of the mainstream population, a lot of whom are smart and have skills to contribute.

If you have someone in your life who you want to introduce to the concepts that have freed your mind from the oppressive systems at play, please treat them with the same respect you want to be treated with.

I often find this NVC formula quite helpful. Ready for a mini lesson?

Verbally identifying these aspects of emotionally charged situations — in order — has been extremely valuable to me.

Observation

Feeling

Need

Request

Observation: What this means is, first, I want to identify — without judgement — exactly what is happening. This is different than an interpretation of events, which is often how we defend ourselves when we feel our ideology or identity is being threatened. I’m not using this example to shame anyone, but because it is fresh in my mind, I will use the Facebook debate as an example.

With the use of NVC skills, the conversation might have looked more like this:

“I notice that you’ve used the term “male-bodied humans” to effectively refer to “men”. Some trans people have told me that this is not how they like to be identified.”

2. Feeling: Next, I like to relate how what I’m observing affects me. Not how the other person “makes” me feel, because that isn’t a real thing, but how I naturally react to what I’m observing.

“I feel uncomfortable knowing that some people might feel excluded or erased by your choice of words.”

3. Need: This is the most important part. Relating your feelings back to a universal human need, and acknowledging the other person’s needs establishes mutual respect and understanding. Helping your conversation partner feel seen and cared for will do the opposite of attacking them - it has the potential to open them up to learning something new.

“I recognize our need to be specific when referring to people, and to have clear concepts for effective communication. I also want to respect the needs of others to be seen and accepted with our use of language.”

4. Request: Lastly, this is how adults ask each other for things. We make requests. We don’t demand, and we don’t passive-aggressively stew in our disbelief that someone hasn’t already read our mind and acted perfectly according to our silent desires. We ask specifically for what we want out of the interaction, and are prepared to hear “no”. No ultimatums.

“May I request you consider changing the term you use? I can suggest a different term that might be more palatable to more people.”

SUBJECTIVE OBJECTIVITY

People are rooted in their personal experiences more than anything. We all experience our objective reality through unique, subjective lenses.

Because my subjectivity has led me to like the term “male/female bodied human”, it will probably take me a good amount of convincing that my preferred terminology (as someone who is already on the fringe of society) is unacceptable.

We run on an infinite treadmill of PC terms turning into slurs. It seems like each week another word goes out of vogue. We can’t get mad at each other for not knowing the latest, least “offensive” way to refer a person or concept.

We aren’t going to achieve equality by cyclically pushing people down and blaming them for our problems, which are all built on the backs of dead people. That’s why our prisons are filled to the brim with people of color. That’s why trans people are getting murdered daily. It’s not because I used the term “male/female bodied” (as a fellow “trans” person!) — it’s because we don’t know how to change the mind of the opposition.

This is exactly why political revolutions fail: the oppressed become the oppressors. Facts are great, but they won’t change people’s minds. People aren’t changed by statistics and lecturing. People are changed by personal experience — in other words, people’s opinions are changed by their feelings. (Ever wonder how Trump became our leader? Certainly not with facts.)

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