#tgd ff

[nerdygaymormon]

A lot of rhetoric in support of anti-trans legislation to restrict gender-affirming care talks about regret and detransitioning.

Some proportion of people experience regret for any medical procedure, from chemotherapy to orthopedic surgery. Nonetheless, we don’t see a plethora of opinion pieces about the awful risks of hip replacements. It’s inevitable that some percentage of people who transition will regret it; the real question is whether the medical care is beneficial on the whole—not whether the occasional person later regrets a medical choice they made when younger.

In 2021, it was found that 13.1% of transgender people participating in the U.S. Transgender Survey reported detransitioning at some point in their lives.

The authors of this study are careful to note “these experiences did not necessarily reflect regret regarding past gender affirmation.” Family and societal pressure are the driving forces that lead many people to detransition – not because people wake up and decide they're not actually trans. All those who took part in the survey still identified as trans, thus it's presumed that the detransitioning was temporary.

Transitioning and detransitioning is complex. You can stop taking hormones and still be trans. You can regret taking steps that alienate you from your family, even as you wish your family would accept you living how you want to live. You can even regret some aspects of a treatment (any kind of medical treatment) while being grateful for the knowledge you gained by trying it out.

Detransitioning doesn't equal regret. Regret doesn’t always mean that people wish they hadn’t transitioned, it just means that there are some parts of the story that they long to change.

What’s clear from this evidence is that the vast majority of people do not experience regret, however defined, after transitioning genders. The rate of regret is still better than other treatments which don’t require national debates over their use, which really begs the question of why the health decisions of this group gets so much attention, and why so many people weigh in even though they have no medical or psychological training and aren't directly involved the treatment of transgender people.

————————————————————

The study included a sample of the responses of the reasons by those who detransitioned at some point in their life. I think they are insightful.

External factors

 Caregiving reasons “I was caring for my 80+ year old mother who had severe dementia, and it was just too confusing for her.”

 Difficult to blend in as identified gender “I don't pass, even after FFS [facial feminization surgery] etc.”

 Financial reasons “Unable to afford HRT [hormone replacement therapy]”

 Lack of support “Lack of trans community at the time” “Back in 1997, virtually no one had heard of queergender people. I couldn't find a support system, and I couldn't figure out how to tell people what I was.”

 Legal reasons “Social services legal pressure regarding child custody” “Forced to by going to federal prison for two years” “Family court order—part of custody award”

 Medical reasons “Blood clotting from estrogen” “Pain in binding large chest”

 Fertility reasons “We decided to have kids so [I] went back to testosterone long enough to bank sperm so we can do IVF [in vitro fertilization].”

 Pressure from a medical health professional “Parents took me to a region with hostile doctors.” “Medical supervisor at federal facility removed regional-approved treatment because I didn't fit his idea of ‘a gay man so gay [he] wants to be a woman so it's easier to sleep with men’ after I had identified as lesbian to him.”

 Pressure from a mental health professional “Mental health professional told me I am not transgender and thought I was just crazy.” “In those days you couldn't be diagnosed trans if you were also gay or lesbian.”

 Pressure from a parent “Moved home after college. Had to conform for parents.” “I was facing being pulled out of school by my family.”

 Pressure from the community or societal stigma “With the high level of transphobia that exist[s], life gets very lonely.” “I live in a very conservative place and was afraid for my safety.”

 Pressure from my employer “There are times when my current job requires me to present [as] female.”

 I had trouble getting a job “I flip flopped genders because of needed employment.”

 Military-related reasons “Military forced me to detransition while in service.”

 Pressure from friends or roommates “Staying with people I knew would harass me”

 Pressure from unspecified or nonparent family members “Visiting conservative extended family for the holidays” “I temporarily detransition during visits with my in laws.”

 Pressure from religion or a religious counselor “Religious pressure (Mormon)” “Pressure from religion”

 Pressure from school “School staff harassed and abused me daily for my gender expression.” “Exclusion by Peers in School, No Mechanism for Getting Preferred Name on School Rosters”

 Pressure from a spouse or partner “I began to really clearly identify as transgender … but I realized it was pushing my marriage apart. At the time, I decided to try living as my assigned gender and set these feelings aside, but they kept cropping back up.”

 Wanting to find a spouse or partner “My partner of 4 years and I split up and I felt that I would always be alone as a trans person.” “Difficult to find lovers, dates”

 Sexual or physical assault “Traumatized by corrective rape so recloseted” “I have become frightened of the police since being sexually molested by an officer.”

 Sports-related reasons “Playing competitive sports”

 Travel or relocation “North Dakota is not a friendly place for anyone outside the gender binary. When I go back home, I butch up.” “I was studying abroad in a country hostile to LGBTQ* people (Russia).”

 Unable to access gender-affirming hormones “Living in rural area, couldn't get hormones” “I lost access to HRT and stopped passing.”

Internal factors

 Psychological reasons “Wasn't emotionally ready, I was scared of my identity.” “Transition had to be put on hold due to mental health issues.” “suicide attempt”

 Uncertainty or doubt around gender “Unsure of my exact gender identity” “Thought I might have been wrong/confused”

 Fluctuations in identity or desire “My gender feels complicated and changing all the time.” “I enjoy having the ability to go back and forth between genders.”

Note: internal factors can be the result of external factors (e.g., self-doubt regarding one's gender identity in response to being persistently misgendered or rejected).

[hermiticalffxiv]

Nimpy brought Itto's outfit into FF for Midlander-based characters and Highlander TBSE-X! Can be found on her usual places: Trello, XMA, TGD, Luxy's server or her own server (linked on her trello)

[asidewalksymphony]

I’m not going to talk so freely on my M*dding tumblr, cause I’m trying to maintain a “semi-proffessional image”.

BUT THIS IS THE GOBLIN ZONE SO I CAN SAY WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT!!

I am so angry that the horrible people on the XMA don’t get punished or banned, just because the main instigator is friends with the site owner. The same site owner that OWNS fcking TT, which a lot of people have to use for their livelihoods.

Also I am an absolutely tiny modder. I have a single page of mods, and not very downloaded. Which I am totally fine with! I get excited any time I see people using my mods! But my point is, I’m so tiny, I’m at that point where I do need every little scrap of exposure. The XMA is the biggest and most viewed site foe FF/X1V m*ds right now. I want to take off my mods but it would only hurt me. Not to mention, if anyone makes a “Where Have I Gone?” mod post to announce they’re leaving the site and going somewhere else, the site owner is fucking banning them or taking down that announcement post. The entire site is exploding because of one nasty person who never suffers repercussions for all the horrible shit they do!! It’s insane!! HOMIE MADE A FUCKING LYNCHING MOD AND HE GETS NO PUNISHMENT. Same guy who made a nazi armband, and other racist things.(This fucking pos also said that “Lynching isn’t racist, open a history book r*tard.” LIKE WHAT. YOU HAD A THUMBNAIL WITH A DARK SKINNED CHARACTER WITH A NOOSE AROUND THEIR NECK. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU.)

I’m just so fucking pissed. I had to make an account with TGD, so people can avoid XMA but still get my stuff. It sucks cause while the site owners of TGD ban hate speech or bigoted mods, they also have bad site security. People keep saying just make a ko-fi shop and make everything free, but that requires me to host the files for download myself, which I can’t really do. Ugh. This is all so aggravating.

Also, I’m honestly sick of the “neutral” spaces getting fucking flooded and over run with all the racist people. If we’re not allowed to post stuff that’s for LGBT and Trans people, why they fuck are they allowed to post literal NAZI mods. It’s infuriating. We have to be “civil” and “neutral” in order to not get banned, but the fucking Nazi’s get to run around and be like “FREE SPEECH! FREE SPEECH! I WANT LGBT PEOPLE DEAD, AND THAT’S MY RIGHT TO FREE SPEECH!” But the SECOND you say “The only good Nazi is a dead one”, you get banned. Christ. I’m just so mad the site owner is friends with such a piece of shit person.

[owlways-and-forever]

Not Giving Up

Summary: With Neil going into septic shock, Claire is desperate to try anything that might save him. Now she just has to convince Dr. Lim to do the same, and see if her gamble will pay off. Starts after the conversation about religion.

A/N: I have very little medical knowledge, so I'm skipping right over the surgical bit. This is just a short, quickly written little one shot because I just finished s3 last night, and I just cannot deal with that. I'm sure there will be more Melendaire to come though, because I desperately need them.

Idk if y’all are interested in this but figured I’d tag yall @shaunthegooddoctor @neilrnelendez . If y’all (or anyone else) want to be tagged in any future TGD fics (in which Neil will never die before he’s 80) let me know :)

WC: 1651 | Read on: AO3, FFnet

o . o . o

“Claire, he’s got severe sepsis,” Audrey commented, her expression beyond sad. “Even if he did recover, he’d be immunocompromised. He’d never be allowed back in an OR.”

“‘He’d be alive ,” Claire protested, desperation creeping into her voice. “Dr. Lim, are you really going to deny him a life-saving procedure just because his quality of life might decrease?”

Audrey hesitated, trying to figure out what she would do if this were any other patient. What if it was a stranger? It  was too hard to imagine. What if it were Andrews? Or someone who wasn’t so deeply entrenched in her heart? But it was no good, she just couldn’t untangle her feelings for Neil.

“Please, Dr. Lim, just let me take it to Melendez and see if he wants it,” Claire pleaded. “If I talk to him…”

“No,” Audrey interjected firmly. She pulled the resident aside, to a miraculously empty patient’s room. She dropped her voice, no longer speaking as Chief of Surgery, but woman to woman. “Claire, he will do anything you ask him to, even if it’s not in his best interest. He won’t care, he’ll do what you say without batting an eye. You have to know how he feels about you.”

“I…” Claire stammered, not sure how to answer that. Being in love with your boss was awkward enough, but it was even more so when his ex-girlfriend was his boss and the one standing in front of you arguing about how to save his life.

“It’s okay,” Audrey soothed. “It doesn’t bother me. I care about him immensely, but it’s different with you. He’s different. It’s fine, I’m not in love with him. But you are, Claire, and that means you can’t be impartial about this. You’ll do anything to save him, and he’ll agree to anything to make you happy. That’s dangerous.”

“Then you talk to him about it,” Claire bargained, not giving up that easily.

“Frankly, I don’t think I’m impartial enough,” she replied, fixing Claire with a wry frown as she considered the options carefully. This was the hardest part of being Chief, putting aside your feelings to make big decisions. “Murphy just got back to the hospital. Tell him your idea and have him pitch it to Melendez. Without you in the room. If Neil consents I’ll get Andrews to do the surgery.”

Claire opened her mouth to protest, but Audrey cut her off.

“I can’t do it, Claire, I just can’t. Andrews may not be as good as me, but he’s still a damn good surgeon,” she said, attempting a joke.

Claire nodded and scurried away, on a mission to find Shaun as fast as possible. Time was of the essence, after all.

o . o . o

She sat in the chair reserved for family and friends, bouncing her leg up and down, elbows on her knees and her chin resting on her clasped hands. Waiting was agony, and she needed it to be over. She needed to know, one way or another, what was going to happen. But mostly she needed him to be alive.

Claire’s eyes flicked from his body, laying complacent on the bed, to the monitors that were beeping his vitals. Still no change. Which was good, because he wasn’t dead. But he wasn’t awake yet either.

She lost track of how long she had been sitting there, waiting for Neil to wake up. Exhausted, she was beginning to drift in and out of consciousness, not quite sleeping, but not entirely aware of the room around her either. She didn’t see his eyes flutter open, just narrow enough to see her figure sitting there, holding a vigil, the rosary she’d gotten for him tightly clasped in her fingers.

“Geez, you’d think I was dying or something,” Neil quipped, his voice barely a whisper.

Claire’s eyes snapped up, meeting his and taking in his full, conscious state. He had the ghost of a smile on his lips, and his eyes were hinting at their usual sparkle. Neil was awake, and his vitals were still good. She felt like hyperventilating and crying with happiness. He was going to be alright. She stood, hands still clasped in front of her face, tears building up in her eyes.

“Hey, come here,” he beckoned, his tone soothing.

Claire obediently crossed the little room until her thighs bumped against the hospital bed’s mattress. She wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him and rest her head on his shoulder, sob her relief into his papery gown. Neil reached for her as much as he was able, only strong enough to lift his arm a few inches from the bed, but Claire caught his hand in one of her own, sitting down softly on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” he croaked, his throat still raw and dry from the surgery. “Shaun told me it was your idea.”

“Thank you for doing it,” she whispered in reply. Suddenly, Claire felt overcome with guilt. Had she been selfish to insist on this procedure? He was alive but it might have changed his whole life, and not for the better. “You might not be able to operate again though.”

“I know,” Neil replied, nodding slightly, the oxygen tube bunching under his chin at the motion. “But there are worse things.”

“Yeah? Like what?” she sniffed, having trouble believing that there could be anything worse for him than a life on the sidelines.

“Like never telling your friend that you’re completely in love with her,” he said, his eyes flicking up to the ceiling as if he was asking god to give him the courage to say what he needed to. Or maybe he was just in pain, his abdomen had been carved open hours earlier, after all.

Claire tamped down any hope she felt at the statement. He had, after all, stopped her when she’d tried to tell him about her feelings earlier in the night. Why else if not to save her the embarrassment of confessing her love to someone who didn’t reciprocate? Even if it had saved his life, she was still a fool for falling in love with her boss.

“Claire?” he asked, looking at her significantly as his voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Was ‘friend’ too vague? Should I have said ‘star resident’ instead?”

Well there was absolutely no way he was talking about Morgan.

“Me?” Her voice failed her, but it didn’t matter. He understood.

“Yeah, you,” he whispered, a shy smile appearing. “I love you, Claire.”

“Ohthankgod,” she breathed, her body relaxing a little at his words. “I love you too.”

“I know,” he answered, confident in a way that only Neil could be. “Why else would you try so hard to save me?”

It was meant to be a joke, but they both knew there was some element of truth to it. She loved him so much that she just couldn’t let him go. She smiled and snuggled in next to him, encouraged by his words and his prognosis. After that night, she just wanted to hang onto him and never let go.

“Claire?” Neil said hesitantly, brushing his nose softly against her forehead and following the touch with a gentle kiss over the same spot.

She craned her neck to look at him, smiling at him to prompt him further.

“When I get out of here, I don’t want to take things slow.” His expression was thoughtful and sincere, conveying that he meant every word he said with utter certainty. “I don’t mean physically, that’s… I’ll follow your lead, and there’s no rush there. Hell, my doctor may not clear me for much exertion for a while.”

They both grinned at the stupid joke.

“But,” he continued, “I don’t want to hide things or take it one day at a time or anything like that. Which is maybe stupid, given how many relationships I’ve killed in this hospital. But I know you’re different, Claire, and I… I just want to be with you.”

“You sound like you’re about to propose,” she teased, mostly because she wasn’t used to hearing him take that tone. Sure of what he wants, but nervous how she might react.

“If I had a ring, I might be tempted,” he replied, laughing a little. “But you can go ahead and take the spare apartment keys that are in my office, because I want you there as much as you want to be. Always, if I’m really honest.”

“That sounds nice,” Claire answered, fighting a yawn.

Despite her desire to stay awake and continue their conversation, exhaustion was finally catching up with her now that the adrenaline had worn off. She wriggled a little bit until she was lying on her side, her arm draped over his chest so that her hand could curl around the far side of his neck, and one leg resting gently on top of his. Neil slid his arm beneath her ribs, wrapping it around her waist so he could hold her tight as she dropped her head against his chest, savouring the feel of his heart beating.

“Get some sleep, Claire. I love you,” he whispered, even as she was already drifting off into a dreamland, and he pressed a kiss into her curls, breathing deeply. He was more than content holding her like that, falling back asleep with her small frame clinging to him.

Dr. Lim appeared in the doorway to check on her patient, smiling at the setup she found. Quietly, she backed away, sliding the glass door just so that the couple wouldn’t be disturbed. They’d had a long road to get to where they were, and they would have a lot of challenges ahead of them. The least she could do was give them one night of peace, where it didn’t matter that he was an attending and she was his resident.

[shaun-tgd]

“I don’t want to go on walks. I don’t want to move on from cases after the tests are done. I do not want to be a pathologist. Dr. Han, you need to make me a surgical resident again.”

[midqueenally]

You cannot keep ordering me around, okay? You’re not my father. I know that, Shaun

[tawnygrisette]

‘the get down part 2 airs in less than a week’ moodboard

[flydizzee--bidizzee]

So I wrote a thing. You can read it if you want, don’t know if it’s any good though

[xadial]

honestly i'm tired of white people on tv and i'm white

[anissapierce]

I'm ur against boo boo n napoleon bc they're both kids then u better be just as vocal abt how much heavy petting was going on btwn him n tht one girl...

[ciceroisthefamilycat]

I fell behind on several shows I’ve been watching (most of the nonCW ones), and so I caught up on a few of them the past few days. So Monday I caught up on TGD, where I got to see a guy throw himself in front of a bus (it aired Nov 26). Then Tuesday I caught up on NA, where I got to see a girl throw herself in front of a subway (luckily landing in a part where the subway passed over her and eventually the docs convinced her and her mom to do therapy; this one aired Nov 20). Then today I caught up on Man, where a guy jumped off a building (aired Nov 19).

Dear TV writers, I hope to be one of you someday. But can you please, ffs, not with the suicide attempts? It isn’t just upsetting, but triggering. The only one of these that resolved in a way where it wasn’t for spectacle was NA, and even then, it still did damage.

[yougreatunfinishedsymphony]

who’s going to write yolanda’s reconciliation scene with regina and mylene tho

[owlways-and-forever]

Not Giving Up (Pt II)

A/N: Okay, well, my quickly written one-shot has rapidly turned into an MC because I can't get enough of these two adorable idiots.

WC: 1470 | Pt I, or read on AO3, FFnet

o . o . o

Neil was coding.

He was lying in his bed, having a heart attack, and she could hear the machines beeping even though there were no heart monitors in his apartment. His neck was extended against the pillows, arteries popping against his skin as his muscles tensed excruciatingly. His mouth was dropped open in a silent scream.

She was in the kitchen, making pasta for dinner when it happened. She dropped the wooden spoon on the floor, let the water boil over onto the stove, sizzling, and she ran to the bedroom. It seemed like it took an hour to get there, a battle to cover every inch of ground. But then she was standing over him, rolling up her sleeves to do chest compressions and hopefully regulate the pace of his heartbeats.

Except she couldn’t remember the right rhythm.

Was it 5 compressions or 3? There was some song that was supposed to guide her, but all she could think of was Stayin’ Alive and she knew that was wrong. Worst misconception in the world because it was false but it was also a stupidly catchy tune and the second you thought about it every other song on the planet seemed to disappear.

It would have to be close enough.

She folded her fingers together and placed the heels of her hand right over his heart.

Ah ah ah ah stayin’ alive.

The sound of the imaginary monitors was flooding her ears, distracting her. She wanted them to shut up, but she also didn’t because that would mean he was dead. And she was not going to let that happen.

Claire woke up, confused and sweating, tears coating her cheeks. The nightmares were frequent, taking over her subconscious almost every night. Neil had been home for almost a week, and every night he died in her dreams. Except that was exactly what confused her. He died, every night, except tonight. Tonight he was dying, but not dead. Why had she woken up? She never woke up in the middle of a dream.

In her dazed, half asleep state she finally registered the feel of Neil tossing and kicking violently beside her. Oh.

She rolled over, grabbing his face with both of her hands. She really didn’t want to wake him, he needed the rest, but he was going to tear his stitches out and shred his abdomen to pieces if he kept moving like that.

“Neil,” she whispered, trying to wake him gently. Her voice didn’t seem to register with him, and she tried again, louder. “Neil!”

His eyes flipped open dramatically, wide and scared as he searched his surroundings. This was always hard. The two of them having nightmares that they didn’t want to talk about or acknowledge. At night especially, it seemed too scary to give voice to what happened inside their heads, as if that could suddenly make it real.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Claire asked, offering even though she knew the answer was going to be no.

Neil shook his head, staring up at the ceiling with tears building, and he reached out for her hand, holding it tight.

“Tell me something happy,” she demanded, knowing that distraction would be the best way to get the awful thoughts out of his head. She tried to keep her voice light and teasing. “Tell me about your tattoo, I’m dying to hear the story.”

“That’s not happy,” he croaked, his voice broken.

Well, crap. She searched her brain for anything else she could think of to ask him, but she was coming up frustratingly blank.

“About a year before you started at St. Bonaventure,” he said after a few minutes, taking a deep, steadying breath, “my dad passed away. He’d been sick for a long time - MS. He was a very pious man, and deer symbolize communication with God. But he was also stubborn and strong. A stag seemed like a fitting representation.”

Claire propped herself up on her elbow, reaching out to run her hands through his hair and smooth her thumb across his cheek, gently wiping away the tears that had gathered.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” she whispered, frowning at him.

“I haven’t been back home since the funeral,” he admitted, swallowing hard. “I talk to my mom at least once a week, and she always comes out here for Christmas and Easter, but I just haven’t been able to go back to that house. There are so many reminders of him there.”

Claire stayed quiet, unable to even imagine what that was like. She’d lost her mom, sure, but her childhood hadn’t been filled with many tangible things, so there wasn’t much that reminded her of her mom. Other than alcohol.

“Where’s home?” she asked, realizing the extent of things they didn’t know about each other. Sure, she’d done all kinds of research on his education and professional background, but looking up his personal history had always seemed like some kind of line that shouldn’t be crossed.

“Phoenix,” he replied, looking at her with a curious expression. “We lived in the same tiny house my whole life. It was nice though. My parents spent pretty much all the money they had to raise their kids in a decent house in a good neighborhood.”

“When you talked to me about my mom…” Claire started, thinking out loud and remembering the night after Angie’s death. “Were you angry at your dad for dying?”

“Yeah,” Neil answered, nodding. “For a long time. He declined treatments, and I tried to get him into every trial I could find, but he wouldn’t do it. So yeah, I was angry at him for not fighting harder. But eventually I stopped being angry and I just missed him.”

Claire nodded next to him. She was still waiting for the anger at her mother to fade completely.

“What’s your mom like?” she asked, changing the topic to something that was hopefully a little bit happier. Hopefully, one day Claire would meet Mrs. Melendez herself, but for now she was more than happy to listen to his stories about her.

“Mamá is a spitfire,” Neil answered, smiling wide. “She wants to take care of everyone all the time and fix every problem. She is so proud of me, and she tells me every time we talk. If she were here, she would probably tell everyone in the hospital embarrassing stories about me as a kid.”

Claire laughed, wondering what exactly Neil’s mother would have to tell.

“She’ll love you,” he said, reaching out to play with her curls. “You guys are two peas in a pod. Kind, smart, witty, beautiful.”

“So you’re saying you’ve got an oedipal complex?” Claire teased, grinning ear to ear.

“Oh yeah, big time,” he quipped sarcastically, reaching out to tickle Claire with the tips of his fingers.

She shrieked in response, curling up into a ball and trying to roll away from him, but he caught her with arms around her waist, fingers still wriggling against her skin. Claire laughed and twisted in Neil’s arms, making him laugh as well, until they were both breathless and he finally ceased the onslaught. Neil pressed kisses to her neck instead, nuzzling his nose against her skin sweetly.

“Hey, you want kids, right?” Claire asked suddenly, a thought occurring to her. “I mean, I heard that was what happened with you and Jessica. I don’t mean to pry, I just wondered…”

“Yeah,” he answered quickly, looking at her quizzically. “Do you?”

He felt his stomach pitch at the realization that her answer might be no. It hadn’t even occurred to him that she might not want kids someday, but it was entirely possible. Wracking his brain, he knew that he’d never heard her allude to wanting to be a mom. Ever. And after her own experiences with her mom, he could understand it if she had her qualms about it. But Claire nodded with a small shrug.

“Someday,” she said, smiling at him. “You would make a great dad though.”

Neil hummed, burying his face in her shoulder. After being pleasantly distracted from his own nightmares, he was getting sleepy again, and his eyes were drooping closed, eyelashes fluttering against Claire’s skin. She waited until he was asleep, and then grabbed her phone off the nightstand. She opened the app store and immediately began downloading Duolingo. She had never paid much attention until he had been talking about his mother, but the details were registering now, and she was putting the pieces together. Neil spoke Spanish at home, at least sometimes, and she was pretty sure he was going to want his future children to speak Spanish too. So if she wanted that future with him, she better get learning.

Plus, she really wanted to impress his mom.