roundtriptojupiter

[roundtriptojupiter]

he's the worst man alive he's the love of my life he's covered in blood he's weird about god and he's a lot, he's not perfect, but most importantly he's bisexual

#rb

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I think of this twitter interaction at least 6 times a day. do you remember how we used to run?

#rb

[roundtriptojupiter]

"The trannies should be able to piss in whatever toilet they want and change their bodies however they want. Why is it my business if some chick has a dick or a guy has a pie? I'm not a trannie or a fag so I don't care, just give 'em the medicine they need."

"This is an LGBT safe space. Of COURSE I fully support individuals who identify as transgender and their right to self-determination! I just think that transitioning is a very serious choice and should be heavily regulated. And there could be a lot of harm in exposing cis children to such topics, so we should be really careful about when it is appropriate to mention trans issues or have too much trans visibility."

One of the above statements is Problematic and the other is slightly annoying. If we disagree on which is which then working together for a better future is going to get really fucking difficult.

#rb #queer

[roundtriptojupiter]

In one misfortunate year I ended up getting into several car accidents. It cemented my general fear and anxiety in cars, because in each case I was either in the car but not driving or driving safely when suddenly something hit me.

One was my ex driving in an unfamiliar city and cutting someone off on accident that resulted in a sideswipe. Another was getting rear ended when I came to a required stop.

The last was when I had a green arrow at an intersection. I turned and was smashed into by someone running a red light, T-boning my little car.

Dazed and in shock I tottered out of the car to behold a crusty older man eating a donut step out of the offending vehicle. A fire truck arrived to block us off from traffic since my car could no longer move under its own power.

“Were you on your way home from work?” The firemen asked me.

I shook my head, struggling to focus on them, “No,” I said vaguely, “I was on my way home from volunteering at the animal shelter.”

In an instant they were closing ranks around me, glaring at the ambivalent donut man who would dare to hit a tiny frail angel who volunteered at the animal shelter. They asked if I needed to get anything out of my car. I did.

“It’s… uh. It’s a little weird though.”

They gestured for me to proceed. I grabbed a bag with snacks and books and filled it with things I couldn’t just leave in my car. Last out I pulled my cutlass.

“Is that a sword?!”

It was. They were instantly like giant puppy dogs, excited and delighted but trying to mind their manners. The bravest said, “Can we…?” I held out the sword. They whooped with delight, unsheathing and marveling at it.

“Why do you have that in your car?”

“I honestly don’t remember, it’s just a fun thing to have at a party now.”

“Is your wrist okay?”

My shock was wearing off and I realized I was cradling my wrist to my chest. “Oh.” I rummaged into my bag and pulled out a wrist brace.

“Wh….why do you already have that?” I was starting to confuse the firemen. I volunteered with cats, had a sword offhand, and kept a wrist brace in my car bag.

“Sometimes I try to hold books in a way that sprains my wrist? So I have this in my car just in case.”

They stared at me. Maybe, like my wife, they assumed it was for masturbation induced injuries. They handed my sword back as the tow truck arrived and thanked me for letting them play with it. They gave donut man one last glare and drove their big truck away.

#rb

[roundtriptojupiter]

i always wonder if there was any fic that actually changed the course of someone’s life

#rb #well. a fanfic led to me meeting the person that caused me a lot of pain & also introduced me to mcyt #and then a lot of dominos later i met my boyfriend #so :)

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#rb #art #boyfriend tag #this but boyfriend!!!

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Working at the sex shop really did rewire my brain. There was basically no topic that was too taboo to talk about, and what little propriety I’d had evaporated. I’d be out walking and chatting with friends about erotica I’d had to read that day only to be shushed and realize people were staring at me.

It always struck me as a little bit silly but I learned to curb myself for others comfort levels. Mostly.

But I have one distinct memory of decorating holiday cookies with my parents and my grandmother. My mom had worked in a sex shop back in her day, and I never hid my line of work from my family, so I was telling a work story.

I was conscious that my dad was slightly more sensitive, so I was using pretty broad descriptions, but I happened to mention silicone lube and my nana asked, “What’s that?”

I went into full sales mode. Focused on the little reindeer cookie I was decorating I started info dumping, “Oh, it’s pretty great. Water based lubricants get absorbed through vaginal mucous membranes, but silicone is too dense and our body can’t absorb it the same way. So once you apply some silicone you never have to worry about chafing, and a little goes a long way. It’s especially popular with older women, because they start producing less natural lubricant and absorb water based lubes so quickly.”

There was a silent beat after this statement.

I looked up.

My mom and grandmother were looking at me with rapt attention, and I belatedly realized I was addressing two older women who probably would welcome extra lubrication.

And then there was my dad, blushing so pink with embarrassment that I thought he was about to faint.

“I can talk about something else,” I offered in apology to my dad.

“Like hell! He can go in the other room, tell me more!” My nana declared. My dad scampered off to busy himself in another room while I answered their questions and talked about brands and pricing.

I slipped them each a small bottle of silicone lube for the holidays.

#rb

[roundtriptojupiter]

I recently had surgery, and at the time I came home, I had both my cat and one of my grandma's cats staying with me.

- Within hours of surgery, I wake up from a nap to my cat gently sniffing at my incisions with great alarm.

- I was not allowed to shower the first day after surgery, and the cats, seeing that The Large Cat is not observing its cleaning ritual, decided I must be gravely disabled and compensated by licking all the exposed skin on my arms, face, and legs.

- I currently have to sleep with a pillow over my abdomen because my cat insists on climbing on top of me and covering my incisions with her body while I sleep (which is very sweet but not exactly comfortable without the pillow). She also lays across me facing my bedroom door, presumably on guard for attackers who may try to harm me while I'm sleeping and injured.

That's love. 🐈‍⬛🐈❤️

#rb #cats

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affirmations 💫

#rb #art

[roundtriptojupiter]

the “in a 1000 years people will look at your skeleton and know ur birth gender” argument is so stupid because

Why are they digging up a graveyard that’s illegal

They get it wrong like 20% of the time

theyre probably all trans too

queer people tend to like bones I’ve noticed this

why would I give a shit I’m dead

#rb

[roundtriptojupiter]

I know it's all down to a matter of personal taste but what do you MEAN most people look at a very large, very hairy man with gentle hands and a soft voice and don't think he's the hottest thing to ever exist and possibly the most masculine thing in the room

#rb

[roundtriptojupiter]

"i hate small talk. you are a stranger. why the fuck would i want to talk about the weather with you"

i may be a deeply introverted and asocial individual, but even i recognize how many relationships have started with a single innocuous question, forged in the fire of an ember lit by humoring it with an answer.

humans make small talk, because small talk can grow.

#rb

[roundtriptojupiter]

one of the more valuable things I’ve learned in life as a survivor of a mentally unstable parent is that it is likely that no one has thought through it as much as you have. 

no, your friend probably has not noticed they cut you off four times in this conversation. 

no, your brother didn’t realize his music was that loud while you were studying. 

no, your bff or S.O. doesn’t remember that you’re on a tight deadline right now.

no, no one else is paying attention to the four power dynamics at play in your friend group right now.  

a habit of abused kids, especially kids with unstable parents, is the tendency to notice every little detail. We magnify small nuances into major things, largely because small nuances quickly became breaking points for parents. Managing moods, reading the room, perceiving danger in the order of words, the shift of body weight….it’s all a natural outgrowth of trying to manage unstable parents from a young age. 

Here’s the thing: most people don’t do that. I’m not saying everyone else is oblivious, I’m saying the over analysis of minor nuances is a habit of abuse. 

I have a rule: I do not respond to subtext. This includes guilt tripping, silent treatments, passive aggressive behavior, etc. I see it. I notice it. I even sometimes have to analyze it and take a deep breath and CHOOSE not to respond. Because whether it’s really there or just me over-reading things that actually don’t mean anything, the habit of lending credence to the part of me that sees danger in the wrong shift of body weight…that’s toxic for me. And dangerous to my relationships. 

The best thing I ever did for myself and my relationships was insist upon frank communication and a categorical denial of subtext. For some people this is a moral stance. For survivors of mentally unstable parents this is a requirement of recovery. 

#rb

[roundtriptojupiter]

of course that character lives in my brain rent free do i look like a fucking landlord to you?

#rb