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#what fag is on my icon? me of course!
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🌊🐺
re
no no no pls do be gay
I'm very much advertising myself by being a real feruvelic gay swag
Bad jokes in the tags as always
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surrealsunday · 2 years
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Jaime, happy new year 🥂✨
I’ve finally read Chapter 7 last night ‘cause yesterday finally marked the end of this stressful seasonal time hence from tomorrow I can finally catch some breathe and have some time to properly write down my thoughts of the last chapters, but I couldn’t wait any longer to ask you some questions and share some of my thoughts about this crucial chapter, bear with me 😮‍💨
I thought I was more than ready for the angst -oh silly silly me 🫠- because I’ve unfortunately stumbled upon few spoilers on my twitter timeline and also watched the movie plenty of times but of course you being you -and please, take it as a compliment- I should’ve known better and kinda expected that you would have taken a light romcom and found a way to make it x1000 darker and angstier 🚶🏼🚂🫠📈
(this is how I picture you writing the chapter:)
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And everyone prepared me for the last line which yeah, was hurtful-
{and perfect, given the context; will it gonna set the ground for the iconic Kat Stratford quote “but mostly, I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all”? we’ll see.}
-but no one prepared me for the sight of one Lucas Lallemant, small and from afar, hand pressed on a tree and hunched over. That was the worst, it hurt as hell. That was the breaking point for me. Nothing could ever prepare me to that. My baby, my precious darling boy couldn’t literally stand straight, so devastated from pain he was. It truly was a crushing sight. (And the force of that vision once again struck me in awe for how much talented you are in writing, the way you can always make us vividly picture a scene as if we’re in it; I don’t know how you can do it, but please never stop).
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tbh if I may say, it is kinda hard not to hate Eliott a little bit if we see it from Lucas’s perspective given that their relationship was far more intimate, complicated and deeper than the one portrayed by Kat and Patrick in the movie, not to mention the weight of the emotional baggage/traumas each of them carries here unlike the OGs, and how much it can easily fill one up with hatred in the aftermath of sharing something that makes your soul feel unbearably, almost violently naked only to be repaid like that; you feel nauseous, you feel furious, you feel pain. most of all you feel shame. for letting yourself be a fool vulnerable, for the things you have said or done, for the way he lead you on, for both a public and private humiliation and well, all that’s a powerful fuel for being vicious. so yeah, I guess all this nonsense rant is just to say: Lucas, darling, you’re allowed to hate him a bit right now. you did absolutely nothing wrong. Or maybe I’m overprojecting and there’s not an ounce in that boy capable of hating Eliott, not even close not even a little bit.. it’s just- for fuck’s sake, it was his first party. his first party after years, and this time he willingly wanted to be there. he said ‘fuck that. i’m doing it. i want to be just a regular guy enjoying a party with my friends. i wanna give eliott this, i wanna give myself this. and what’s the worst that could happen? it already happened. it will be alright. eliott’s gonna be there this time. i feel safe with him” and then we failed him. we absolutely spectacularly failed him. we didn’t protect him. eliott didn’t protect him. I’m not saying he telling him gently the truth in the safety of his room, where nothing else exists but them and time and space are just concepts would have sweeten the pill: lucas would have probably left the apartment upset anyway but things would have been thousands of times better if he had the chance to find out from eliott, alone together, in a quiet surrounding, not from charles fuckin munier, shout like that (“frigid fag”, my heart was bleeding 💔) in front of everyone. listen, I do kinda understand why Eliott was so utterly terrified of doing anything that could make him lose Lucas, okay? he’s a mess and we love him anyway but I don’t think I will have it in me to ever forgive him for letting Lucas go to the party in the first place when not only he knew charles would have been there, but most importantly now knowing the reason behind lucas’ decision of never going to a party ever again. goddamn it, it was all there. the tension in his tiny body in front of the house before going inside, his smile, so candid and sweet, so brave and trusting on the doorway.. it literally felt like watching an innocent lamb going inside the slaughterhouse and can’t do anything to save it (which i’m pretty sure it’s a clear visual you gave us on purpose to hurt us even more at that point 😭). He should’ve known how big step, how important it was that moment for lucas to be there, in a party again, and how fundamental it was for him to have a good memory of it. instead, we scarred him again, for good. to find out the truth in that horrible, humiliating brutal way.. it was just too much. you did warn us to be fair, but I couldn’t ever imagine it would be like that. 1/2
Ok I'm gonna put the second part of your ask below a 'read more'. I was going to answer each individually but I want to be able to go through your comments as a whole because I jump around a bit and I want to give all your thoughts their due (this is epic btw and I bow down to you and your brain).
2/2 In the movie, Kat’s reaction at the party is mostly rage and fury ‘cause that’s how she cope in the first place with pain. she looks like she’s capable of unleashing hell on earth and the only reason she’s not it’s only because you’re unworthy of the her time.
Here, Lucas’ reaction is just heartbreaking. He can’t stand on his feet. He can’t even speak, spit a quick snarling remark to Eliott’s face when the truth comes out as Kat did to Patrick (“nothing in it for you, huhn”) before marching away. It pained so much to know that he thinks his deepest fears and doubts have just been confirmed (there’s something to be said about the loose thread that connect the facade of confidence he shows with that “you’re kinda easy for me, huhn?” thrown with almost rhetorical nonchalance to mask his insecurities; he wanted it to be true so bad, he doesn’t understand why or how he landed a guy like Eliott but he’s starting to believe this is the real deal; only to have the world drops out underneath him just half an hour later, and have to admit “this whole time, I thought it was weird that you liked me” as in testimony that he never let himself truly believe someone like Eliott could ever be possibly into someone like him, and that hurts a lot; my beautiful boy can’t see his own worth, his own breathtaking beauty inside and out. On this note, I still wanna punch that bartender in Tempo who cruelly commented “well, no offense but you two look mismatched” and later on Lucas self consciously half jokes with his mom “I guess you can tell we’re quite mismatched” like LUCAS BABY NO 🐥🔪🔪🔪). that moments so intimate and special he shared with Eliott were only for money and sick jokes with his worst enemy (“did he pay you to fuck me? a fifty if I sucked you off, cool hundred if I let you put it in me?” was such a cherry on top for the part of me thriving in angst, but at the same time: sTOP IT, I’M ALREADY ON MY KNEES 💔💔). Unlike Kat, rage and anger have soon been swallowed by gut-wrenching pain here, and the mix has quickly turned into a stone cold blank slate as if the last shred of him’s died, and blood is all over Eliott’s bare hands. (“Lucas smiles. There’s no humour or happiness in it. He looks nothing like himself. “I want to know what I’m worth.” The words slice into Eliott, jagged and sharp. This is what he has done – what he has made Lucas feel.”)
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I truly don’t know how they’re gonna fix this. I naïvely thought it wouldn’t be that bad when we first started this journey (again: silly silly me), but it was before knowing the history between lucas and charles. that background story made it 100x worse. and when eliott thought “he’s a part of that. He allowed himself to become part of that.” you just wanna hug him so tight ‘cause in the end he’s as much as hurt by his own actions as lucas but oh eli darling, you didn’t know, you couldn’t possibly know when you first got involved 💔 but band aids don’t fix bullet holes, how can you recover from something so wrong? how can you fix something so twisted? I’m not a huge fan of Friends but it came to my mind that sequence of Rachel and Ross after she found out he slept with another girl during their break/not a break and he’s literally on his knees, begging for her forgiveness and she simply said “I can’t. you’re a totally different person to me now. I used to think of you as somebody that would never ever hurt me, and now I can’t stop picturing you with her. It changes everything.” I’m not saying Lucas thinks Eliott will never ever hurt him, that’s something no one can promise you, and the stake is higher whenever you let someone closer, something my boy had to learn the hard way all his life, but he certainly thought he knew Eliott enough to trust the boy won’t hurt him purposely or out of wickedness; ‘cause he has built this idea of Eliott in his mind of a genuinely good guy, the kind of guy who’s more upset someone thinks him capable of hurting an animal rather than being concerned of worse rumors involving his persona (“Lucas is doing that staring thing again, his expression unreadable. It doesn’t feel like a bad thing. It feels a little like he’s found something fascinating in Eliott and wants to take his time sorting it out”), the kind of guy who does something ridiculously sweet like pressing a tender kiss on the back of your hand in a public place (bastien’s shop) and reach for it to cup on his chest in his sleep (and in reality all those little things are quintessentially Eliott, the true Eliott, we know it) and now everything has crumbled down, and the merciless light of reality has highlighted that truth is: he doesn’t know Eliott at all. That Eliott is more than capable of hurting him, he’s capable of hiding things and twisting truths and taking him apart for money and- god it must be horrible to be inside Lucas’ mind right now. It’s like swearing to your significant other that you will stay with them no matter what, only to find out the worst thing they ever did, they did it to you. So yeah, guess you weren’t kidding when you said “things are gonna get messy and the train will derail indeed” 🫠
I’m looking forward to see what Lucas’s next step will be; throughout the chapters, he never failed to surprise me, totally unpredictable and unique, so it will be very interesting to see what he got in store for us (somehow I have the feeling it will be something different from a self-written poem read in public, first of all ‘cause my boy is a smartass genius but not a writer 🤭).
also: I applaud Daphne’s great gesture of punching and kicking Charles -you go girl ❤️‍🔥- but I’m gonna turn and toss in the tomb if I don’t see Lucas’s getting the last word or a revenge with Charles (Lucas’ Reputation Era WHEN 🐍🐍🐍🤭).
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I knew that scene would have come, I just didn’t know by which hand; not gonna lie, I caressed the idea of 10Things!Eliott and Tempo!Eliott 🤝🏻 punching whoever traumatized Lucas’s first BJ experience 🤭
I’m more than curious to hear about your opinion at this point of the storyline and I’m practically dying to know the behind-of-the-scene details because it will never cease to fascinate me your writing process and your line of thought: were you frustrated with some of the characters and their actions at some point? Has it been challenging to write scenes like that, do compromises to make it follow a precise timeline given that this time you had to follow a predetermined script ecc
None of your other versions of Elu had ever been through such a horrible messy betrayal as this one; how did that make you feel as an Elu stan and/or as an author? Can you picture it as something one of your versions of Eliott and Lucas (I don’t mean the ones we’ve already met, I mean hypothetical ones that could be born by your hand) would be capable of do eventually (betraying Lucas’s trust)?
So how did “10 Things” was born exactly? What put this specific idea in your mind -The Chosen One- and consequently translated into action? Do you have any other Elu ideas/drafts we don’t know anything about?
Was there anything you would’ve liked to change and/or point out of the OG script? I’ve found insightful the way you pointed out at the very beginning how shitty was for Arthur and Bas as “friends” to act like that behind Lucas’ back -and essentially at his expense-, although I’ve forgiven Bas the very moment Eliott make him notice it, and it was clear Bas never actually thought what kind of friend the deal made him look like and was starting to feel bad (Bas is a baby, you can’t stay mad at a baby 😭); color me naïve or shallow but I admit although I watched it countless times, I’ve never given a lot of thoughts about how ethically moral was the deal from that point of view lol but uhm at least Cameron and Michael weren’t Kat’s friends in the movie.
How did you pick the topic between Lucas and Charles, where did it come from? (if we’re speaking about that, I’m quite curious about Lucas and Doctor Moreau as well; how do you pick Lucas’ different personal trauma? do they come later in the process or are they part of the initial process of building up a specific AU?)
You said once that long stories drain the hell out of you as a writer, did that happen with 10 Things in its own way? How much do you think you have invested, given but also gained, grown as a writer from this experience?
(I wish I could formulate the questions better but I’m literally falling asleep and I’ve already sent the part 1 of this post hours earlier; absolutely hate I had to break the comment in two but apparently I’ve reached the max of words for tumblr, and ao3 doesn’t have the gif/pics section nor the highlight text option, which as you can tell, I’m already obsessed 🤭
Wish you a good night, and please take your time to respond to my questions, there’s absolutely no rush, I know how hectic life can be rn 🧡
Ok, let's dive in!
So first of all, I have to say that your thoughts are so well-put and so insightful and it just really makes me hope you'll enjoy the resolution in the fic. I have major imposter syndrome and I know this so most of the time when I feel all my writing is crap, I am able to ignore my brain, but having such intelligent readers makes me just sooooo want to provide the kind of story you guys deserve! I hope I have!
I'm sorry you stumbled onto spoilers but I guess at least it's 10 Things so you probably knew the general gist of what was coming? I hope so! But it's true... I did ratchet things up just a wee bit 😬. That was actually why I chose to do this AU. I loved the movie and the story, but it was really because my first thought was 'I could make that hurt more' lasdkjfaldsfj. This is my brain 😌.
PLEASE THOSE MEMES! The way I screamed and then immediately sent them to my friend aldskjfaldjflaj. I love you. I was laughing so hard when I saw those omg. I am literally saving those in my phone to go back to when I need a good laugh 😂.
Ok but I LOVE love love that it was that visual of Lucas hunched over that really got you. ME TOO! I'm a super visual person so when I write it's usually scenes playing out in my head and me scrambling to keep up and find a way to actually describe those scenes in words. So I had that exact image of Lucas in my head and it was heartbreaking. I'm glad it had impact for you too.
And yes, I do understand what you mean about Eliott. Like, yes, you have his pov and you know his thought process and that he cares deeply for Lucas and didn't want to hurt him but... he DID. And he hurt him incredibly badly when Lucas had already gone through so much trauma. I could not say it better than you did. You described what Lucas was going through really beautifully there. Lucas is absolutely allowed to hate Eliott right now and honestly that's probably the most healthy reaction. He's dealing with heartbreak too of course but he has every reason to be angry.
I do agree that no matter how Eliott told Lucas it would have been awful, but there was something extra terrible about the context within which Lucas found out. As you said - the public humiliation, the fact that Lucas was taking such a leap of faith in going to that party... just... all of it. That absolutely made the situation and the pain exponentially worse.
Ok the 'innocent lamb going to slaughterhouse' made me aldjflasdkfj. But yeah... I won't deny that I absolutely set it all up for the maximum amount of destruction. The consequences just had to be HUGE for as terribly as Lucas had been betrayed and because things between Eliott and Lucas had progressed as far as they did.
The funny thing about you saying you didn't imagine it would be that bad is that I literally am the worst fucking judge of the angst I write. I thought it was pretty rough but had no real sense of how it would impact the reader (relative to things I've already written). And then a friend was screaming at me over text and I got some idea 😂😂😂.
And yes, in the movie Kat's reaction and the resolution suits the lighter tone in general. She's angry of course and she did have deep feelings for Patrick, but I absolutely dialed it up for Elu. That is what I was most interested in doing. When I was musing over writing this one of my very first thoughts is how much more complicated things would be if they were older and sex/ deeper emotions were involved. And you're right, in the movie it's more about Kat's rage. Her pain is there but it's not at the core of her reaction. Lucas's pain is much more present. And in the movie the resolution is obviously pretty easy come by as well (not a criticism... I love it!). But obviously here I knew the story would have to go differently, even as I drew on some inspo from the OG.
You are EXACTLY right in how Lucas uses 'you're kind of easy for me' and similar phrases. They are totally reflections of his insecurity - needing to have that confirmed over and over again because he doesn't quite believe it. That'll come back again, as will Eliott's understanding of it.
Also you referencing Tempo was so interesting! I never thought of that! Tbh, I think what inspired that in Tempo (and in general any story where I've made illusions to Lucas thinking Eliott is out of his league) is Axel's comments about Maxence. And Axel is a babe and obviously knows it. And yet still he looked at Maxence and was struck by instant insecurity. I find that blend of confidence and self-doubt so interesting, and I really think he embodied that in Lucas. So I do tend to bring it to my fics (some of them at least, Hollow Edge Lucas was a different story 😂).
It's true that I've written Eliott into a pretty challenging situation. I think how I looked at it when I was writing is that the two of them WANT to love one another. They don't want this shit to be happening. That's not to say it was out of Eliott's control, but that both of them actually have the same goal. It's just that all this shit has made it very unclear that that is the case. So I have to give them a chance to move forward. Not necessarily fix it perfectly, but give them a chance to want to move forward together. And even then, you'll see some references at the end to the fact that Lucas's fear doesn't just go *poof*. They aren't instantly perfect. They just need to know that they want the same thing and that they love one another the same way.
It's interesting you said Lucas has suprised you! That makes me really excited to hear what you'll think of where things go. Lucas in this puts on a brave face and he's all about the snark and push back but he's incredibly vulnerable. He let himself be fully vulnerable with Eliott. And as much as he might like, his walls will not go right back up. Those take time to rebuild after this kind of destruction. So in that way... Eliott has a narrow opportunity of a chance. And he just has to make that work.
Ok I want to write a totally different post for your questions about the writing process and development of 10 Things. I found all of those questions so interesting and I want to properly mull them over and then give them their due. Thank you so much for asking! I will write a response to you tomorrow. I definitely have lots to say on how this all came about and my thoughts along the way (tho prepare for chaos because that's basically what my writing process is aldkjflajf).
For now I'm gonna get the next chapter posted and I truly hope you will like it!!! And thank you so much again for all of your insights. I can't tell you what this sort of feedback means to me ❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️
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sjw-publishings · 4 years
Text
Stay Straight Babe
“Im so glad I still have my lovely boyfriend with me during Quarantine, Amirite Cherry?”
“Yeah...hehe, so glad to have Sammie with me too...”
Anton, the Drama Queen laughed with his lesbian shy bookworm bestie as they discussed about theatre and all about. Of course, they would’ve invited their lovers along, but they were too busy being techno geeks and talking computer games in their gaming rooms.
“Did you have lunch yet?”
“Yeah, tried takeout from that famous Chinese restaurant downtown! Was super good!”
“Oh my god! Me too sistah!!!”
“OooooooAHHHH!”
A large groan came from their study, where his boyfriend’s currently at. Anton naturally looked concerned for his boyfriend.
“What was that?”
“I don’t know! But something came from Sammie’s room too...”
“Yeah! I gotta check Kenny, Brb!”
Ending the call, Anton left the bedroom, and headed his way outside the study, about to open the door, but then a loud masculine voice rumbled from behind the door.
“Samantha? You’re just such a great fri... girlfriend... eungh so hot...”
Samantha? Who is that....But more importantly, why would his friend...boyfriend be moaning to a lady? Is he...cheating on him? But that can’t be, his geeky nerd cutie is as queer as a three dollar bill! But still, he had to check it out....that deep voice certainly did not sound like a nerd’s...
“SO HOT!”
As Anton walked into the room, his eyes widened at the pile of clothes and tossed garments on the ground. Large XL sandblasted jeans, track pants, sneakers. Tons of sports posters and trophies decorating the shelves, and a large television screen playing the latest soccer match...though for some reason, he vaguely recalled seeing football and baseball at intervals.
But it definitely did not look like a study room...despite him initially thinking that it was. Alongside a couple of dart boards, some sports equipment, and a pool table, seemed like a recreation room...but since when could they afford...
“oooooOOOOAAAAAAHHH!”
A large moan came from the couch, as Anton came to the front of it, all his eyes focused on was an incredibly muscular asian hunk man-spreading in bliss, dressed in a white tee with an iconic sporting good logo in the front, left hand gripping his cellphone while his right hand dug deep into his clean white boxers. The man panted out of relief, and relaxation, like a weight lifted off his shoulders. Whispering into branded phone with his deep husky, asian tone.
“Stay Straight Babe~”
CLICK!
So hot...NO! Anton get a hold of yourself! Who was this Asian man? Where was his roommate? He had to get questions, even if this...extremely hunky cutie, looked so sexy dazed and looking up.
“What?...Who are you!”
The Asian man snapped out of his trace, eyes opened...but ever so slightly. He was asian after all, but he was chill...in control. Still leaning back on the couch, he looked at Anton, puzzled, before looking down at his exposed boxers and then back at the stranger. His mind cleared up in an instant, forcing out a-
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“Kevin Lang, Fag!”
The man said it, and gave that signature sarcastic response from only a jock bully like him. Smirking condescendingly, he was in charge, and that theatre gay started to tremble.
“Listen Queer, I know you’re thirsty and all for men during this. But some of us got girlfriends who we can’t visit. So stop being a WUSS and deal with it.”
“I...wasn’t...I...”
Now this really pissed him, not even caring about the stickiness on his right hand, or that he had a pitched tent. All he knows now is to deal with this gay of a roommate who spied on him and his girlfriend. The tall 6ft 2 jock cornered Anton to the door.
“Go jerk to your boyfriend or something...oh that’s right! Even a FAG like you doesn’t have one!”
Anton was in tears, he remembered the countless dates that he had, alongside the taunts made by this douchebag Kevin who somehow managed to wolf his way into his life throughout college. He had to get out of there..., quickly opening the door and running back to the bedroom, locking it.
“I...I have to call Cherry...”
As he typed for her number, a sudden ringing notification popped up for the name Chelsea. Must be a typo when he was saving Cherry’s contact right? Cause that number definitely was Cherry’s.
“Anton....”
“What happened?”
Almost suddenly, his mind shrugged off of whatever his homophobic roommate had said. His best friend was weak right now, he had to help her.
Gripping ahold of the phone, he didn’t notice the warm tanned spot spreading on his palms, down his wrists every second as he held the cellphone.
“Samantha...called me a dyke.”
“Samantha?”
“You know! My roommate, the one that’s dating yours!”
It made sense now, the two of them bonded over how much they despised their roommates bullying...and the strangeness of how the douchebag jock and queen bee couple somehow always interfered in their respective love lives...
Clutching the phone tighter, his wrists tightened as definition thickened his forearms. Curling his biceps subconsciously, toning strongly till they were the size of baseballs.
“Yeah Kevin was such a douche, had to defend myself from him tryin’ to whoop me...”
“Yeah, had to backflip and dodge Samantha’s attacks. Didn’t feel good knowing she still holds a grudge about me being a dyke.”
Heh, he knew his best friend could handle herself. She was still a cheerleader in training, but could whoop Samantha’s arrogant butt anytime. Must also be her half asian genetics like his.
Sitting up straighter, Aiton’s broad shoulders filled out his sweater, which almost ripped if it was not for that white stain sealing up the cracks. That white stain...which came from Kevin...right? Was there a stain?
The white coloration spread all across the attire, shrinking up the sleeves to simply resting just below his shoulders, accentuating his large biceps which he proudly admired. Alongside his large back which occupied his entire bed...wait, didn’t he?
Taking a closer look at his bedroom...wait, looking DOWN at his bedroom. He was on the upper bed of a double decker, with training equipment at the side and a couple of sports memorabilia which looked reminiscent of the recreational room.
Yeah of course that douchebag Kevin had to have most of the room with his crap...though it was not all bad. He worked out quite often during his spare time...outside of that artsy degree he had no idea why he took...did he take an artsy degree? He shrugged, doesn’t matter, he worked out.
Anyways it showed, leaning back and taking full charge of the entire bed. At least he was the alpha HERE! Listening to what his best friend spoke...though she was mostly talking about drama with her roommate, not the kind of thing he was interested in.
But he always liked her voice...
“At least...I think I like girls? But that was an accident! I don’t like Samantha!”
Aiton nodded, unsure of what to say, but felt...pretty cool about it. Crossing his legs, as he saw those large trunks that trained...almost like for years. They which reached the end of the bedside, as those khakis lengthened and stretched into XL sweatpants...gotta snatch that back his junk from Kevin later, but not now. He was cool, now. Kicking off his large trainers which went-
CLUNK CLUNK!
As they hit the floor, wiggling his size 12 feet beneath those white socks. Kevin could insult him all he wants later, it was his room too. The fledgeling Jock can say whatever he wants to anybody, and he says-
“You were like ‘I think I like girls’, sounded pretty dyke to me.”
Aiton smirked, teasing the cheerleader from across the phone. He always liked doing that, he was in charge after all.
He knew how icky the two cheerleaders felt towards homosexuals...but then again, wasn’t he a bit rude towards them as well? Not as bad as Kevin but an occasional joke here and there meant nothing right?
“Who you callin’ dyke, Fag?”
“Who you callin’ Fag, Dyke?”
Okay...maybe he didn’t like being called Fag either. But it was just insults between him, Cherlse, and Kevin and Samantha. Anyone else and they answer TO HIS FISTS....except maybe ladies...especially hot babes.
He began to palm himself, and as he kneaded his hard rocket, he sneered in disgust over a rainbow wristband on his wrist. He blinked, in its faggy place was a white sports watch. His rocket doubled up in size, while darkening in tan, its always time to be a Jerk, just like his Bro Kevin.
“You know i get weak when you use my own words~”
Cherlsea opened up her phone webcam, and Aidon did the same. Both smirking at the other. The Jock knew it was always ladies first, but he was a Jerk so-
“Oh damn...she’s hot!”
“Of course I am, do I still look pretty dyke to you~?”
Watching her seductively pose on her bed, it felt like ages since he had seen a woman like that! In that revealing tank and double Ds he could just!
SQUEEZE!
“Oooaahhh!”
Squeezing his own chest, feeling rock solid muscle layering his nipples, pectorals filling his sports shirt massively like the man he was. Feeling those abdominals as a well deserved 6 pack emerged from years of crunches.
“I....I NEED RELEASE!”
“So hawt~”
“I...I AINT A FAG!”
“Course you aren’t hunky~you are so hawt, ooooooaaaaah!”
The Queen Bee’s second in command had let out her mating’s call, the asian babe was too much for the Douchebag Jock’s right hand man, and vice versa. As their desires linked up, with the help of a fortune cookie they ate prior, they were about to finally be set into motion.
Each of them felt a tight stinging to their holes simultaneously. As the Asian Jock’s butt hole tightened, the Cheerleader’s lady hole expanded. Like a trade of preferences, but that is not all.
As testosterone pumped in the man, churning larger sacks, as he watched his babe’s hair lengthen, his shrunk, and BUZZED off the sides and back, leaving a stylish gelled top, maintained with a pair of shavers, scissors, and his Bro. Not actually brothers, but they were asian , jocks, and total jerks. Wouldn’t be surprised if they were related.
Speaking of Asian, his tan had bathed his facial features alongside the rest of his body. Cleansing the GAY away from him as his jaw hardened into a fierce square. His lips snarled in momentary disgust, before his raising his cheeks, as that scowl shifted to an arrogant smirk as he watched his girlfriend do the same.
“Ooooaaaaaah~”
His brows complimented his prominent features, as they frowned, closing his eyes as his girlfriend’s moan was too much to bear...he needed RELEASE! RELEASE!
“OAAAAAAAH!”
Aidan Long expelled a thick goo from below, as his eyes gave way to a thin fierce asian dark brown. Staring into the ceiling in a haze...before the sounds of his lover’s panting sent him back to reality.
“Man...that feels good, but still miss our hot damn ‘Dragon and Empress’ sessions before all this happened.”
“Yeah totally...stuck with bestie the whole day is fun and all but...she and your douche roommate keep doing it all day.”
“Caught him jerkin’ off too jus now...”
“Whaaaaaat! Omg same, saw Samantha doing that too!”
“Course...nothin’ beats my empress...”
“Same for you too...my long muscular dragon.”
Almost instantly, the doors slammed open. Of course, Kevin had the spare keys to the bedroom too, and he was sneering right at the door.
“AND YOU SAY IM A FAGGOT!”
“SHADDUP KEV! YOU GAY!”
“NO YOU GAY!”
“NO YOU GAY!”
“HAHAHA!”
The two jocks laughed arrogantly, before sneering at each other. The two of them were thirsty, and they understood and respected that.
“Ohhh almost forgot, mwah mwah mwah!”
“Mwah mwah mwah back to you GAY!”
Kevin left the room, most likely going to order more of that Chinese take out or something. Doesn’t matter to Aidan though...he was friends with the man, but he wasn’t INTO INTO him.
“I swear this stay at home thing is turning me gay...”
“Oh there’s nothing wrong with some bonding sessions. Me and Samantha are pointing each other’s nails later on, and that isn’t DYKE!”
“Yeah, should probably binge watch soccer with that douche. Felt like We haven’t did a sports marathon in ages!...No homo of course.”
The two of them chatted for a while more, loving the company of the other intimately as they teased one another like the lovers they are.
But they eventually have to go to other stuff. And by stuff he wants to do, is CHILL.
“Love you hunky, talk to you l8r!”
The Jock simply posed to the camera,and spoke.
“Stay Straight Babe”
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amostexcellentblog · 5 years
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Judy Garland: Reflections on an Icon, Gay or Otherwise
Today, June 22, 2019, marks the 50th anniversary of the day we lost one of the world’s greatest entertainers, Judy Garland. In just a few days time we will observe an even more momentous 50th anniversary, that of the Stonewall Uprising which birthed the modern LGBTQ equality movement. If you’re familiar with your queer folk history, you’ll know there are those who claim this close timing is not a coincidence. But we’ll get to that later.
I first encountered Garland the way most people do--my parents showed me The Wizard of Oz when I was little. I don’t remember much of the experience aside from wanting to be a flying monkey for Halloween, and that “Over the Rainbow” made me cry, which was the first time any piece of media had made such an impact on me. It never really occurred to me that the woman who sang that song could have had a career beyond Oz until 12 years ago when I was just finishing Middle School and becoming interested in the Old Hollywood era. She was the first star I formed an emotional connection to, and as I happily made my way through her filmography and read up on her life I first encountered the phrase “gay icon.”
I knew what gay meant, obviously. I was vaguely aware of the LGBTQ and marriage equality movements, but at the time I mostly knew “gay” as the insult hurled at me seemingly everyday of Middle School for a series of things I never gave a second thought to but were apparently tell-tale signs that I was that way, and thus a figure deserving of torment--how I carried my books, how I sat, how I looked. My basic opinion of being gay at that point was that it’s fine for other people, but dear god don’t let this be my future!
So, when I realized that the star I was idolizing was famous for being idolized by gay men, I did what I’d become very adept at doing, I ignored the implications. Denial allowed me to spend high school working my way through her films, youtube videos, documentaries, and a biography without really examining why this woman resonated so much with me. So now, as we approached these two anniversaries, it seemed like a good time to finally try to sort through what she meant to me. What I ended up with instead is an essay that’s part personal reflection and part mediation on the meaning of the term “Gay Icon” in the era of Marriage Equality and Corporate-Sponsored Pride.
The term “Gay Icon” has been used to mean several similar, but different types of people. To clarify, when I talk about Gay Icons in this post, I’m talking specifically about a subset of gay icons related to the so-called “Diva Worship” culture among gay men. Nobody really seems to know why exactly gay men are so drawn to larger-than-life women, I’ve heard too many reasons to go into them all now, but even if not all of us go for the cliches (Cher, Gaga, etc.) pretty much every gay man has a female figure--real or fictional--they connect with in a way their straight male peers don’t.
Looking back, it’s obvious why Garland resonated with me. She was chronically insecure, especially about her looks--as was I. She spent her life wanting desperately to for someone to love her unconditionally and to be able to love them back, only to be denied this simple happiness time after time--well, of course that would resonate with a gay audience, especially in her lifetime. And she was a survivor, repeatedly cast aside by the press and the industry as washed up, she continually had the last laugh. She had a strength to her that I wanted. It was a different kind of strength than the physical/masculine kind offered by the pro-athletes and superheroes my male peers emulated, but which I found unrelatable and unappealing. Hers was a strength that came dressed in sequins and high heels, and I just thought it was fabulous.
Garland though, is more than just a gay icon, in a lot of ways she seems to be the gay icon. The popular code phrase “friend of Dorothy” is generally assumed to be a reference to her character in Oz. She maintained close friendships with gay men throughout her life, with whom she would frequent illegal gay bars on both coasts. Her father was a closeted homosexual, and biographers have speculated this is why so many of the men she was attracted to, both as friends and romantically, turned out to be gay or bi. She was one of the first celebrities to have their gay following acknowledged in the mainstream press. There’s even footage on youtube of her being asked directly about why she attracts so many “homosexuals,” and she is visibly thrown by it.
To understand why Garland would be so flustered over that question, it’s important to understand how being popular with the gay community was perceived in her lifetime. William Goldman’s The Season, his influential book about the 1967–68 season on and off Broadway, includes an account from an unnamed screenwriter friend describing a mid-1960s cocktail party that offers a fascinating glimpse at just that:
I can’t explain her appeal, but I saw it work once in this crazy way. I was at a party in Malibu... There were a lot of actors there, the word on them was that they were queer, but this was a boy-girl party, everyone was paired off, and these beautiful men and gorgeous broads were talking together and drinking together. Anyway, everything’s going along and it’s sunny, I’m getting a little buzzed... when I realized, Garland was in the room.
The guy she’s with, her husband, supports her as she plops down in this chaise, and says what she wants to drink and he goes off to get it. And she’s sitting all alone and for a minute there was nothing, and then this crazy thing started to happen. Every homosexual in the place, every guy you’d heard whispered about, they left the girls they were with and started to mass move towards Garland. She didn’t ask for it, she was just sitting there, while all these beautiful men circled her. They crowded around her and pretty soon she’s disappeared behind this expansive male fence. It may not sound like all that much, but I’m telling you, she magnetized them. 
I’ll never forget all those famous secret guys moving across this gorgeous patio without a sound, and her just sitting there, blinking. And then they were on her, and she was gone. (x)
Another passage describing one of her concerts in 1967, from Goldman himself, is even more blunt:
Another flutter of fags, half a dozen this time, and watching it all from a corner--two heterosexual married couples. “These fags” the first man says, “it’s like Auschwitz, some of them died along the way but a lot of them got here anyhow!” He turns to the other husband and shrugs, “Tonight, no one goes to the bathroom.” (x)
Both passages, laced with condescension, homophobia, and misogyny, are nevertheless useful windows into a pre-Stonewall way of looking at how far gay culture has come. Today Lady Gaga can sing “Don’t be a drag just be a queen” on a lead single and still reign as a queen of pop music, back then any association with homosexuality was enough to taint you. Garland’s popularity with gay men opens her up to condescending mockery, while gay men’s mere existence at a public event is enough to terrify the heterosexual attendees.
Still, the most revealing part of that last passage might not be the homophobia, but the opening reference to “another flutter of fags, half a dozen.” The fact that a decent amount of gay men evidently felt comfortable enough to express themselves at least somewhat openly at a mainstream public event is notable. In this pre-Stonewall era such openness was generally reserved for bars and other covert safe spaces.
Which brings us back to the first paragraph. If you know any queer folk history, then you’ve probably heard this one--Judy Garland’s funeral sparked the Stonewall Uprising. That fateful night in June the Stonewall Inn was packed with gay men still emotionally raw from losing their idol, so much so that when the police raided the joint they channeled that anger and loss, and fought back, and the modern LGBTQ movement was born! It’s a story that would solidify Garland’s status as the definitive gay icon, a martyr for the cause, (move over Harvey Milk!) Except, it’s not true. It’s been debunked multiple times. Most recently in this video from the NY Times.
I bring it up though, because even if she wasn’t the cause, she was still connected to that historic night, if only indirectly. Even as the NY Times video debunks the myth of her funeral causing it, two of the uprising’s participants interviewed do admit to being at Garland’s funeral, which really was held just hours before the violence started. Other accounts from people who patronized Stonewall have said that “Judy Garland” was a popular fake name to use on a sign-in book at the entrance. In other words, even if she didn’t cause them, she was still an important figure for some of the people who went on to build the modern equality movement.
As a final thought to wrap this all up, I’ve been thinking about Garland and her status as a gay icon. It’s no secret that as the years have passed by she’s been somewhat supplemented by younger icons for younger generations. There’s been some question over whether Garland even has a place in a gay culture that now has people like Lady Gaga and “Born This Way,” openly acknowledging their gay fans in ways Garland never could. 
At the same time, I can’t help but feel the recent debate over Taylor Swift’s gay-themed music video demonstrates why Garland still deserves her Gay Icon status, even if most younger queer people today don’t have the same connection to her that older generations did. Swift’s video, chocked full of every out celebrity who would return her calls and saturated in a rainbow-hue, has faced criticism for being “performative activism.” That after being fairly silent on the issue for so long she’s now trying to cash-in on the movement by branding her single a new gay anthem for Pride Month. The fact that with one exception, which misuses the word “shade,” the lyrics to the song sound more like they’re referring to Swift’s online haters rather than anti-LGBTQ bigots, certainly helps the critics’ case. As does the fact that Swift never seemed to have much interest in building a large gay following before this.
Yet there’s also a sense that this was inevitable. Corporations already roll out rainbow colored logos for Pride, in retrospect it seems obvious that celebrities, and their PR firms, would start deliberately trying to market themselves as a gay icon without first taking the time to build a large following in the LGBTQ community. (Gaga’s established gay fanbase undoubtedly blunted similar criticisms of “Born This Way,” for example.) Garland in this case then serves as a symbol of a time when the Gay Icon title wasn’t anointed by marketing campaigns, but emerged organically from a genuine affection for an individual held by a large number of queer people. A reminder of how important that affection was to members of our community, (and still is to many of us) even if it could only go one-way. And perhaps even a warning, of what we might lose if we let this important part of gay subculture be transformed into just another marketing gimmick.
But I’ll leave all that for another time. For now, I’ll just say, thank you Judy Garland. Thank you for all the joy and comfort you’ve given to generations of gay men. And thank you especially for the companionship you gave me while I was still figuring some things out.
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trekwiz · 6 years
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Love, Simon - Consolidated Reflections
Love, Simon is an incredible film that I had no idea I still needed. My boyfriend and I went in expecting cheesy humor and Nick Robinson eye candy, but six theater trips later and we're certain it's the most important movie of our lives.
Even though I'm a very different person from Simon's character, I never felt more represented on the screen before. I have my own stories for nearly every scene in the film, and it's made me reflect deeply about what it was like to grow up as a gay 90's kid in New Jersey, and as a student of Johns Hopkins' CTY "Smart Camp".
I’d like you to take a moment and put yourself in a specific frame: think of how you feel when your media doesn’t represent you. You don’t see people like you on mainstream TV, you don’t see people like you in mainstream movies, you don’t see people like you in mainstream advertising, you don't see people like you on the news, except in murder stories. You're invisible in pop culture.
Now imagine that it wasn’t JUST your media.
Imagine that it was your whole world: you don’t see anyone who looks like you anywhere. Not your family. Not your neighborhood. Not your school. Not your media. You are completely erased.
Growing up in that environment was really difficult, in a way that non-gays really don’t have a frame to understand. It stole a lot of my life from me.
It was somewhere around 2nd grade that I realized the world was hostile towards normal people for no good reason: irrational hostility was present in everything at all times.
Some of it was tangible. Hearing “that’s so gay,” or “fag” as an insult, or hearing classmates brag about beating up a gay kid made it clear that the world really was out to get me. While other stuff was more abstract, like the complete absence of people like me on the screen. Or worse, the token representations of people like me that were poorly written, the butt of jokes, or just irrelevant props.
There are more gay characters today, but often it’s still superficial and sometimes worse, with companies like Bioware using disrespectful and offensive caricatures as a money making strategy.
As a kid, I closed myself off. I became a “turtle”--I hid both from my toxic, abusive family and the anti-gay world around me, behind the locked door of my bedroom. After school I had Star Trek, Legos, and videogames, alone. I stepped away from my friendships in 2nd grade--I didn’t stop talking with classmates, I just didn’t let them get close. I didn’t hang out after school. I kept those relationships superficial.
I didn’t get the option to be a mall rat. I didn’t go see movies with other kids. I didn’t get to hang out at the arcade. I didn’t have friends to go on bike rides with. I didn’t have an SNES player 2 outside of my family.
I was afraid that if I had friends, they’d catch me checking out another guy and either attack me, or out me. I tried to convince myself that I was “alone but not lonely,” but I wasn’t. The only thing that kept me going was the belief that if I worked hard, I could get away from the toxic family and the toxic culture, to make my own life.
When I talk about the experiences that were stolen from me, there’s a reason I have a high level of confidence that it wasn’t merely the way my life would have developed anyway.
I have fairly wild swings between shy/quiet, and outgoing/expressive. I’ve always described myself as an “introvert communicator” because I value my alone time, and I do feel drained from many social interactions, but I also have a lot to say and the need to communicate it. It really shows when you compare how I was in front of a classroom or with clients now, vs how I am in a gathering of 5 or more people. Sometimes even one on one chatting, I’m aware that I'm struggling to do my part.
I wasn’t always an introvert. I wasn’t always socially awkward. I wasn’t always anxious in social situations. Before turtling, I was actually fairly normal, socially--despite the geek tendencies.
Many such memories are lost forever because of how young I was. Before I started kindergarten, I had a best friend--I don’t remember much about him, except that his name was Damien. We did normal kid stuff, including sleepovers. When my family moved for Kindergarten, I adapted quickly: I made friends with two of the neighbor girls. I remember even less about them because we moved back after the school year ended. My family recounted stories of me having a group of my own friends at the time; we were into Ghost Busters, of course.
When we moved back, I still have some memories of good social experiences in first grade. It was a fairly slow process between the end of first grade, up through third grade where I started pulling away. I vaguely recall instigating arguments with friends so I’d have an excuse to play alone at recess. Until that became the norm.
I know what society took from me, because I watched it slip away.
Being in the closet meant going through every day knowing that it’s “your fault” that you're isolated. That you erased yourself and that other people just like you, will never see that they’re not alone, either. Just because you wanted to get through your day without being harassed, or assaulted. That your own defense mechanism is isolating you.
It’s a deep isolation that comes with terror, and (justifiable) paranoia. Going through every day knowing that if you slip just a little bit--say something in a “funny” way, walk in an awkward way, or get caught checking someone out--you might end up in the hospital.
It means that if you're lucky enough to see someone who’s willing to express that they’re just like you, you can never talk with them: if someone sees you, they’ll suspect you. If they suspect you, they may hurt you. It means trying hard to find subtle hints that someone else is like you, and knowing that it’s too risky to say anything if you’re right. That the representation you need in your world, is dangerous to you.
Can you imagine how isolating that is for an 8 year old to know the world hates them, with no where to turn to for safety? To know that there’s no one in the world that they can ever trust? I was terrified: there was no way to know who was an enemy.
People who otherwise pass as nice can still be homophobic; they pretend to be good people, but even that seemingly sweet teacher could be a fatal liability. Complain about the slurs and risk the real, well-meaning teacher telling parents; as a teen, I became aware of groups like NARTH and Exodus International and was terrified that I could be forced into one of their torture camps if anyone found out.
How much anxiety would you have if you couldn’t trust anyone around you? How depressing would that be? How stressful? How would you feel about the culture that did it to you?
To some extent, our society understands what it means to hide: it’s what makes horror-thriller so compelling. Think about the iconic kitchen raptors scene from Jurassic Park. The visual of a person hiding for safety resonates with us all; it’s emotionally very complex.
Really look at the emotion involved in the scene: the kids are stressed. They’re off balance, completely terrorized. And they’re aware that they have to keep moving: that the safety provided by hiding is temporary, and fragile. That if they don’t find new ways to hide, their safety is gone. What is their mental state like? When things settle down, how do you think they’re going to feel when they can reflect on their experience?
Think about that for a minute. Imagine that temporary, fragile safety in hiding exists not for minutes, but for years. Not just in the kitchen, but in all aspects of your life; that it continues not just when you escape the raptors (like Billy Graham, Pat Robertson, et al), but also when your parents return because they’re just as dangerous.
What happens to someone psychologically who must constantly hide in fear; who can trust no one, when the world confirms it’s out to get them? When their whole identity has been erased from the world, while their allies hide, too? How sustainable is it, to be in that heightened state of stress and terror?
That’s what it means to be in the closet. You may be able to hide the target on your back, but it comes at a price.
To a 14 year old closeted gay kid, the internet was a taste of freedom. In fact, the internet is exclusively responsible for the totality of my dating life--my boyfriend of six years is no exception.
About.com had fairly good resources before Google was a thing--it gave me a chance to access information about who I was, and to learn about the things they "didn't have time" to address in sex education. I'll never forget the teacher, who went by "Vivacious Vicki," who communicated that my existence was so unimportant that I had to sit through a class that would never be relevant to me even if I asked on-topic questions that I needed answers to.
Answers and information that I couldn’t just get in the library: being seen looking for it was just too dangerous. The internet opened access to message boards like Delphi Forums. That gave me a space to counteract my erasure; to show that I exist and to fight for my existence in a way that didn’t risk my safety.
It gave me a chance to interact with other gay people. People my whole world taught me didn’t exist, or taught that they would disappear when “they got over” their “phase.” It gave me a safe place to talk about celebrity crushes; I was able to talk with other teens about how cute David Gallagher, and Erik von Detten were. And Xanga allowed me to write about my experiences on my own terms, to connect with others who felt empowered by my words.
It gave me a space to learn that we really are in every population; that anyone in the world really could be just like me. The internet also gave me the means to test coming out.
After I aged out of smart camp, I used AIM to come out to friends. I was able to choose one of the most important people first: my best friend across multiple years of camp. The internet ensured there was no risk--we wouldn’t be back at camp, we didn’t live nearby, and he didn’t have my phone number. That meant that we had no common proximity, or potential for common proximity, for a bad reaction to affect me. And because it was unlikely that we’d see each other again, losing that friendship was low risk.
In contrast, because of the danger involved, my first in-person coming out was very calculated. Much like Simon, in Love, Simon, I had found inspiration and strength from the internet--his nervous retreat from the computer and “FUCK! I can do this…” motion is one I had a lot of practice with. I had come out multiple times online, but saying those words out loud for the first time required a safety net.
I waited until the very end of my senior year of high school. I made that choice because if it went poorly, it wouldn’t matter: I’d be gone from the school, so I wouldn’t have to live with a higher daily risk of assault. I wouldn’t have to go through extended ridicule, or torment because I’d have an easy exit.
That wasn’t enough, though. It had to be in my room--it was my sanctuary, the place I hid from the world for safety. It also meant there wouldn’t be strangers passing by to overhear. It meant there weren’t extra variables to track; I didn’t have to watch my environment to make sure I wasn’t going to be blindsided by someone else who didn't like what I had to say. It meant no risk of embarrassment if my message was repeated.
It also had to be someone that wouldn’t treat it like a joke. Not in the sense of thinking I’m joking; it was important that it be someone who wouldn’t go back to others and laugh about it, as if what I was saying wasn’t serious and important. It was a huge weight I had to release from my shoulders, and I was conveying something very deep and essential about who I am, so it had to be someone who could hear it the same way I was saying it.
And most importantly, it had to be someone that I knew was physically weaker than I was. I knew I was risking being attacked and if I had to fight, I wanted to be confident that I could win. I’ve taken my punches before, but this time it was especially important that insult not be compounded by injury.
So, for the first time in my life, I’d invited someone over to hang out--I think it was about a week after graduation, but it’s a little fuzzy this long after. It was a high school chess club friend, under the guise of playing chess.
For all appearances, it was pretty underwhelming: I came out, he reacted well, and we played chess. But internally, that was huge for me; there was a battle to become comfortable enough to say the words, and a massive sense of relief after. As they put it in Love, Simon, I could “finally exhale.” That interaction gave me the confidence to join Allies in college, and to stop hiding who I am from the newer people to enter my life.
I still used the internet as a means to test the grounds before college. And a bit later, too. Some people acted weirdly right after--they wondered “aloud” why I was telling them, not realizing that I just wanted to stop hiding; some acquaintances even “disappeared” afterwords. But without the internet for practice, and as a shield, I don’t think I’d have found the courage to do it in person.
This is something that non-gay people have a hard time understanding. In any context, no matter how young you are, you can just start talking about the eye candy you see around you. Your biggest worry is that your friend will think your eye candy is ugly and make a joke about it until you see more eye candy cross your path.
That’s a normal part of teen and slightly pre-teen life that I didn’t get to have until my 20’s, AFTER college. It's profoundly sad, but authentic, that Simon's character didn't even start learning how to talk about attractive guys until the end of high school.
It’s such a little thing you can take for granted, that poses serious danger to people like me. You have the luxury of not coming out, the luxury of not having to think about these quality of life issues wrapped up in the process.
When I finally wanted to take baby steps out of hiding and make friends again, I didn’t really have the social skills to do it. I remember someone in 8th grade gym class who tried to be friends, but I no longer knew how how to go from daily chatting, to actually hanging out away from school.
I never got to have a best friend outside of smart camp, and I was terrified of going to school dances, so I didn’t--not that there’d have been a reason to, there was no way to find a suitable dance partner, anyway. One of the most obvious differences between Simon in Love, Simon and me is that I never did go to any high school parties--I was never invited, and I probably would have been afraid to go if I had been.
Smart camp was certainly a lot better in some ways. It was a social oasis. I had friends who are still important to me today, and I was able to go to the dances; mostly, I played cards with my friends because it wasn’t just a dance. But even that didn’t offer me a reprieve from the damaging culture around me.
Friends kept pushing me to dance with girls, and it was too dangerous to say why I didn’t want to. I delayed them by pointing out that I didn’t even know how to dance. In response, my best friend, my real crush, offered to show me how to slow dance. Not by telling me, but by actually dancing with me right then and there. In front of everyone. This was the first time in my life that I experienced bullet time as I scrambled to figure out how to react.
I panicked a little. I said no, and lied: I claimed it was only “fast dancing” that I didn’t know how to do, but that I could slow dance. I couldn’t do either, though. I was worried that if I let him show me how to dance, my friends would have noticed how much I was enjoying it; I was afraid that other onlookers would notice; I was afraid that my safety would be at risk, and that rumors would spread.
And so I rebuffed the chance at dancing with a guy, and in so doing, kept up the facade of heteronormativity. The survival mechanism that allowed me to hide from potential enemies also hid me from suitors and allies; that is the paradox of being in the closet.
I really missed out on something exceptional: I could have had my first dance with a real crush, and I could have learned to dance from a friend who cared about me enough to not even worry about being judged for dancing with a guy friend.
Instead, I completely embarrassed myself when they setup a dance for me, after being pressured to name a female crush. My humiliation was compounded by my attempt to use this fake crush as a means of denial; I was desperate to hold onto the facade of being just like everyone else.
In 2000, my last year at smart camp, a girl asked me to dance. I had said no, and after repeating myself about a dozen times, I retreated to the makeshift movie theater. She followed and kept asking; when everyone stared at me because of the disruption, I left, again.
I had nowhere else to go, since we weren’t allowed to go back to the dorms until later, so I actually hid in the bathroom. I don’t think I can convey how frustrating that is--I literally hid in the bathroom because it was too dangerous to say, “please stop, I’m gay.” Needless to say, the bathroom scene after the dance in Love, Simon really hit home.
That story doesn’t even end there. She asked an instructor for help; he came in a few minutes later to "persuade" me, too. I was backed in a corner with no place to escape, and the authority figure, the one who’s job was to protect me, insisted that I should dance with her. Because being in the closet meant I was perceived as merely being a shy non-gay kid who needed a nudge.
I felt powerless, disgusted, and terrified. Knowing my safety was on the line, I became her default dance partner for a couple weeks. Until she asked for a kiss. I was “lucky” that I only had to say no once before she moved on. Meanwhile, there was a guy in my group who, thanks to the benefit of hindsight, I know was interested--I missed it at the time, and lost the only opportunity I had for any kind of dating life in my teen years.
My hair was freshly cut that summer; it's so thick that the natural spikes of a flattop drew a lot of attention. Some of the staff loved patting my hair, and so did the girls in my group, including the one who compelled me to dance with her.
Our group was sitting in a booth playing card games, and the girls were playing with my hair as usual. There were 3 other guys at the table: I never got the name of the important one, but someone from the alumni association suggested it may be Nathan. Aaron is the second, and I don’t recall the name of the third. Aaron was grumpy and obnoxious in general, and he expressed disbelief that anyone could actually be so fascinated with someone’s hair.
Because of his reaction, the girls tried to convince Aaron to touch my hair--he got really awkward about it, and refused vehemently. The third guy sat there quietly, just watching in amusement as Aaron squirmed.
Nathan ignored the ongoing argument and started playing with my hair without saying a word; not just a quick pat, he let his hand linger on this and another occasion. I remember feeling really happy that I had received attention from a guy for the first time, but for twenty years I've been angry with myself for not having the courage to say anything at all.
In the moment, I didn’t realize Nathan was flirting, so I completely missed out on my only chance to explore dating at an only slightly delayed age. Instead, I didn't have my first date until months before graduating college. Many people underestimate just how much it hurts to watch others engage in normal social activities, while being left behind.
What was especially painful was that I missed out on a chance to talk with someone like me when I needed that the most; someone who could relate, and make me feel less isolated. Someone who could have helped me work through the emotions I was trying to understand just from knowing that he was going through it, too. I missed my only chance as a teen to talk with someone who could truly understand me.
That was my only chance at the time to understand that there really were gay people in my world--I still don’t know with certainty if anyone in my life at the time was gay or bi, and I wonder what it would be like to have that chance to talk with someone who shared some of my childhood and was trying to cope in hiding nearby, too. To see how differently they grew through it, and whether or not they resented the same things in our shared environment.
And worst of all, I never got contact information from Nathan, so I didn’t have the chance to get that conversation at a later time through the safety of the internet. Though I tried, I was never able to track him down.
That’s a regret I still hold onto today: I’ve always wanted some kind of closure. Did he know I was interested? Did seeing me dance with a girl discourage him, or did he realize that was part of being in the closet? Did he suspect that I was gay? Did he realize I tried flirting back? Was he struggling the way I was, or did he find comfort being himself? Did I really lose my one chance at normalcy, or did I misinterpret his gesture?
I don’t know that I’ll ever stop wanting these answers. It’s always there at the back of my mind, venturing to the front every few months.
I don’t want to be the kid hiding in the bathroom at the dance anymore, but sometimes, he’s still present. When people celebrate Billy Graham despite his support for Exodus International. When some complain that we’ve “gone too far” with “that whole equality thing.” When gay couples are still assaulted today, or after Pulse. When gay people can still be fired without cause in some states. When gay people can be turned down for renting or buying a home so long as the owner doesn’t say why.
I don’t think I’ll ever not be anxious when I come out, even in places that I know are relatively safe. And there are parts of life that I’ll never be able to experience because the wider culture took it away from me. But Love, Simon gives me hope that there really is a different future ahead.
Seeing a character experience these struggles without making it disaster-porn was refreshing. Seeing him able to experience the life that was denied to me is incredible. Seeing a mainstream movie with such an authentic, honest representation of someone like me is unimaginably meaningful. This movie showed the universal aspects of the gay experience, without resorting to tropes and trivialization; without getting too caught up in any niche subsets.
I needed this movie 20 years ago. Love, Simon truly could have changed my life if it had existed then. It was written from a place of respect, and showed the same due care as any film: and that means everything to me.
20 notes · View notes
juudgeblog · 6 years
Text
Job Security v. Income Security
This article is written by Ramanuj Mukherjee, CEO, LawSikho.
My grandfather had job security. He worked for Martin’s Light Railway, British era railway company, as a ticket checker. But then it shut down operations in 1973 at the height of nationalization spree.
For a time, he did not have that job security as he was laid off, but then eventually Indian railway absorbed him.
Nationalization meant that was supposed to happen anyway. But it did not happen for a while as the old company shut operations but Indian Railway was slow in its absorption.
It was a panic situation in a household with 5 children for a year or so. What were they going to do? My grandfather used to tell me the story about it when I was a little kid.
So my father, his brothers as well as sisters were taught that only government jobs have job security and nothing else is safe.
At the time, the Indian economy was troubled. There were successive wars on our border, many global and geopolitical crisis all around us, cold war raging in the west, assassination of our Prime Minister, factories shutting down all around in our country, balance of payment crisis, government being blamed for not giving jobs to educated young men, uncontrolled inflation, sluggish economy – the world didn’t look as pretty as it does today. 80s was tough.
Job security was the thing that everyone aspired for. Survival was at stake. All people wanted was a life of dignity where you can give square meals to your children, a pair of new clothes every year for the kids at least, if not everyone, was all the luxury one could dream of.
Even I have experienced the fag end of this phase in the first few years of my life. I have memories from early childhood when I discovered that tube lights were a thing and asking my mother why we don’t have these in our house. And a phase when we could not afford electricity in the insane inflationary times of 1991. That was the rock bottom.
The turning point. When India was forced to liberalise its economy. Manmohan Singh went with suitcases full of Gold to get money from IMF and agreed to become a signatory to WTO because we didn’t have foreign currency reserves for more than a week.
We have come a long way.
The last two decades were of unprecedented growth and prosperity.
Job security is the thing of the past. Young professionals now change jobs as often as they upgrade to the next model of smartphone.
Click Above
Our parents struggled for survival. We fight a different battle.
We are worried – shall we amount to anything? Would our lives mean something? Would our careers become something we can be proud of?
And of course, whether our vacation pictures will rock Instagram.
Job security is not relevant today. Not only because we live in a more secure economy than that of the 1990s or 80s, but because businesses also rise and fall much faster. Government jobs are a very small percentage of the entire job market. Large companies rise and fall.
Even Reliance, an iconic brand we Indians usually thought as infallible, filed for bankruptcy last week. A large number of major companies in India are currently in the dock for insolvency and bankruptcy.
People are losing jobs in great numbers. But jobs are created elsewhere in the economy too. One has to be agile, informed and prepared for changes in macroeconomic trends so that they are not caught off guard.
Many want to work for startups, where job security is a cruel joke. Nobody knows how long the job or the company may last, although it may still be well paid and even prestigious, may last.
Startup employees are even demanding shares in the company and ready to take reduced compensation as long as they get compensated through equity. They also want to be a part of the growth story.
What a change in attitude! This is the biggest mark of confidence of the new generation of Indian professionals.
What is the secret to this confidence?
We have transitioned from job security to income security. It’s an amazing thing, and we must keep it in mind and embrace it fully.
Our careers are no more about job security, that no matter what I will have a job so that I can survive.
Our careers are now all about how can we grow fast. And we have income security, so we are ready to shift jobs, take risks with our career and even try out completely new, adventurous professions which perhaps give us more fulfillment, sense of purpose and opportunities to grow.
However, income security is something that we cannot take for granted. It is something to cultivate. We must develop high demand skills that will hold us in good stead in all kind of economic cycles and would have long term demand.
Don’t invest in fads. Invest your time, money and energy in long term, high demand, evergreen skills because that is what would give you income security.
Most lawyers do not have any income security because they do not have sufficient marketable skills. Or because they completely fail to demonstrate those skills to employers and potential clients. Both are very problematic situations.
What would have long term demand and income security in the legal profession? Let’s take a quick look.
Being able to draft and negotiate good contracts will never go out of fashion.
Amazing legal research skills will always come handy no matter what a lawyer does.
Being able to draft civil and criminal petitions, knowing court procedures and knowledge of litigation strategies.
Knowledge of how investment deals, M&A deals and major finance deals work and the skills to structure such deals, perform due diligence, draft and negotiate contracts and do all the compliances related to such deals.
Learning how to navigate the legal issues around burgeoning industries like Technology and Media. After all, it is certain that the next few decades will be dominated and shaped by these industries.
Business law skills that can help you to shepherd a business from inception to different stages of growths, and help startups to gain a competitive advantage in the marketplace.
Insolvency and bankruptcy related work – companies will always fail, restructure and shut down.
Arbitration, the new favourite method of dispute resolution that is rapidly growing and will still grow at least 100 times bigger in the decades to come!
Fintech regulations – the rules for the industry that is changing the world of finance faster than ever and have massive cascading effects on entire economies.
Labour and employment law, which is only growing in importance, prominence and complexity as more and more of the workforce shifts from informal to formal economy and people become more aware of their workplace rights.
Corporate tax. The tussle between the government and the biggest taxpayers in the country will never go stale, never go out of fashion, and never stop needed the most talented and clever lawyers.
There are many more. I could go on. But you may have already heard that law is a recession proof profession.
It is. It is an all weather profession. Provided you have the skills to deliver the results to your clients and the track record.
We can help you with both. Do check out our upcoming courses:
Diploma
Diploma in Intellectual Property, Media and Entertainment laws 
Diploma in Cyber Law, Fintech Regulations and Technology contracts 
Diploma in Industrial and Labour Laws 
Diploma in Companies Act, Corporate Governance and SEBI Regulations 
Executive Certificate Courses
Certificate Course in Advanced Criminal Litigation & Trial Advocacy 
Certificate Course in Companies Act 
Certificate Course in Real Estate Laws 
Certificate Course in Advanced Civil Litigation 
The post Job Security v. Income Security appeared first on iPleaders.
Job Security v. Income Security syndicated from https://namechangersmumbai.wordpress.com/
0 notes
loyallogic · 6 years
Text
Job Security v. Income Security
This article is written by Ramanuj Mukherjee, CEO, LawSikho.
My grandfather had job security. He worked for Martin’s Light Railway, British era railway company, as a ticket checker. But then it shut down operations in 1973 at the height of nationalization spree.
For a time, he did not have that job security as he was laid off, but then eventually Indian railway absorbed him.
Nationalization meant that was supposed to happen anyway. But it did not happen for a while as the old company shut operations but Indian Railway was slow in its absorption.
It was a panic situation in a household with 5 children for a year or so. What were they going to do? My grandfather used to tell me the story about it when I was a little kid.
So my father, his brothers as well as sisters were taught that only government jobs have job security and nothing else is safe.
At the time, the Indian economy was troubled. There were successive wars on our border, many global and geopolitical crisis all around us, cold war raging in the west, assassination of our Prime Minister, factories shutting down all around in our country, balance of payment crisis, government being blamed for not giving jobs to educated young men, uncontrolled inflation, sluggish economy – the world didn’t look as pretty as it does today. 80s was tough.
Job security was the thing that everyone aspired for. Survival was at stake. All people wanted was a life of dignity where you can give square meals to your children, a pair of new clothes every year for the kids at least, if not everyone, was all the luxury one could dream of.
Even I have experienced the fag end of this phase in the first few years of my life. I have memories from early childhood when I discovered that tube lights were a thing and asking my mother why we don’t have these in our house. And a phase when we could not afford electricity in the insane inflationary times of 1991. That was the rock bottom.
The turning point. When India was forced to liberalise its economy. Manmohan Singh went with suitcases full of Gold to get money from IMF and agreed to become a signatory to WTO because we didn’t have foreign currency reserves for more than a week.
We have come a long way.
The last two decades were of unprecedented growth and prosperity.
Job security is the thing of the past. Young professionals now change jobs as often as they upgrade to the next model of smartphone.
Click Above
Our parents struggled for survival. We fight a different battle.
We are worried – shall we amount to anything? Would our lives mean something? Would our careers become something we can be proud of?
And of course, whether our vacation pictures will rock Instagram.
Job security is not relevant today. Not only because we live in a more secure economy than that of the 1990s or 80s, but because businesses also rise and fall much faster. Government jobs are a very small percentage of the entire job market. Large companies rise and fall.
Even Reliance, an iconic brand we Indians usually thought as infallible, filed for bankruptcy last week. A large number of major companies in India are currently in the dock for insolvency and bankruptcy.
People are losing jobs in great numbers. But jobs are created elsewhere in the economy too. One has to be agile, informed and prepared for changes in macroeconomic trends so that they are not caught off guard.
Many want to work for startups, where job security is a cruel joke. Nobody knows how long the job or the company may last, although it may still be well paid and even prestigious, may last.
Startup employees are even demanding shares in the company and ready to take reduced compensation as long as they get compensated through equity. They also want to be a part of the growth story.
What a change in attitude! This is the biggest mark of confidence of the new generation of Indian professionals.
What is the secret to this confidence?
We have transitioned from job security to income security. It’s an amazing thing, and we must keep it in mind and embrace it fully.
Our careers are no more about job security, that no matter what I will have a job so that I can survive.
Our careers are now all about how can we grow fast. And we have income security, so we are ready to shift jobs, take risks with our career and even try out completely new, adventurous professions which perhaps give us more fulfillment, sense of purpose and opportunities to grow.
However, income security is something that we cannot take for granted. It is something to cultivate. We must develop high demand skills that will hold us in good stead in all kind of economic cycles and would have long term demand.
Don’t invest in fads. Invest your time, money and energy in long term, high demand, evergreen skills because that is what would give you income security.
Most lawyers do not have any income security because they do not have sufficient marketable skills. Or because they completely fail to demonstrate those skills to employers and potential clients. Both are very problematic situations.
What would have long term demand and income security in the legal profession? Let’s take a quick look.
Being able to draft and negotiate good contracts will never go out of fashion.
Amazing legal research skills will always come handy no matter what a lawyer does.
Being able to draft civil and criminal petitions, knowing court procedures and knowledge of litigation strategies.
Knowledge of how investment deals, M&A deals and major finance deals work and the skills to structure such deals, perform due diligence, draft and negotiate contracts and do all the compliances related to such deals.
Learning how to navigate the legal issues around burgeoning industries like Technology and Media. After all, it is certain that the next few decades will be dominated and shaped by these industries.
Business law skills that can help you to shepherd a business from inception to different stages of growths, and help startups to gain a competitive advantage in the marketplace.
Insolvency and bankruptcy related work – companies will always fail, restructure and shut down.
Arbitration, the new favourite method of dispute resolution that is rapidly growing and will still grow at least 100 times bigger in the decades to come!
Fintech regulations – the rules for the industry that is changing the world of finance faster than ever and have massive cascading effects on entire economies.
Labour and employment law, which is only growing in importance, prominence and complexity as more and more of the workforce shifts from informal to formal economy and people become more aware of their workplace rights.
Corporate tax. The tussle between the government and the biggest taxpayers in the country will never go stale, never go out of fashion, and never stop needed the most talented and clever lawyers.
There are many more. I could go on. But you may have already heard that law is a recession proof profession.
It is. It is an all weather profession. Provided you have the skills to deliver the results to your clients and the track record.
We can help you with both. Do check out our upcoming courses:
Diploma
Diploma in Intellectual Property, Media and Entertainment laws 
Diploma in Cyber Law, Fintech Regulations and Technology contracts 
Diploma in Industrial and Labour Laws 
Diploma in Companies Act, Corporate Governance and SEBI Regulations 
Executive Certificate Courses
Certificate Course in Advanced Criminal Litigation & Trial Advocacy 
Certificate Course in Companies Act 
Certificate Course in Real Estate Laws 
Certificate Course in Advanced Civil Litigation 
The post Job Security v. Income Security appeared first on iPleaders.
Job Security v. Income Security published first on https://namechangers.tumblr.com/
0 notes
Text
Lost Lullabies - Chapter Nineteen
Description: Mickey Milkovich, former child star turned action movie star, runs into his old co-star, Ian Gallagher, out on the street in the middle of a winter night. When Mickey takes him in, he doesn’t realize that Ian has the power to completely turn his new life upside down.
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19
Read on AO3
Mickey woke up the next day in his own bed without Ian. He had barely spoken to Ian since their semi-fight in his dressing room. He didn’t know what to say to him. Ian wasn’t mad at him, wasn’t even really disappointed, he’d just seemed... upset. And Mickey had no idea how to make him feel better without giving up everything he’d done with his life. Mickey loved Ian. He loved him a lot. But he didn’t love him more than his career, his success, his life outside of the Southside, who he was without the ghetto surrounding him.
           Mickey reached for his phone, intent on calling or texting Ian to see how he was doing before he got to set. Instead, he got a screen full of notifications and bile in his throat. He noticed Ian had already texted him: Pictures just hit the web. Be safe <3 Mickey felt tears prick his eyes and he wiped them away. With shaking hands, he opened his other messages.
           He had two dozen texts and emails from Liz. Reminders about the press conference they’d scheduled to deal with the repercussions as fast as possible and well wishes. Svet had texted six times. Twice just going over the details of their plan – she was to toe the party line, refuse to give up that their relationship was fake, and avoid saying too much in case it conflicted with Mickey’s statement. In return, Mickey would double his appearances with her and get her a part in the new James Bond movie at his side . The other four messages from her were a mix of words of wisdom and heartfelt pleas for him to be okay.
           Everything else was social media notifications. Mickey opened Twitter and was bombarded with magazines asking for him to comment on the pictures, “fans” calling him all kinds of names, and people telling him they’d stopped following his account. He checked his follower number. Down three million overnight.
           Mickey turned his phone off. Slipping out of bed, he dressed in his best avoid-the-paparazzi clothing. He wore his black hoodie, his worst jeans, and dark sunglasses. Then he went out the back way, hoping to avoid the press camped out front.
           Of course, he’d lived in the building long enough that the press knew about the back exit. Mickey ended up with his head down pushing through a crowd of cameras to get out of the small alley. They were all yelling at him but he couldn’t make out much. He hopped into the car waiting for him and forced himself to breathe while it raced down the street.
           “Are you all right, Mr. Milkovich?”
           Mickey looked up into the rear-view mirror to find the driver watching him. The guy had worked for him for a couple of years now but Mickey had never gotten his name. “Just fine,” Mickey said. Then, because of the panic building inside him, he asked, “Have you ever been offered a bribe to... I don’t know, give away my secrets or take me somewhere against my will?”
           The driver laughed. “Mr. Milkovich, I can assure you, you pay me much more than any tabloid ever could.”
           Mickey nodded and willed those words to comfort him. They didn’t. It’s not like the driver could really do much at this point – the photos were already out there. Mickey itched to look at his phone again or at least turn it on, but he knew it was better this way. He had the press conference set up. He only had to get through the morning and at lunch he would put all the rumours to rest.
           The moment Mickey walked onto set he felt the mood change. Ian had come on his own, figuring stopping to pick him up today probably wouldn’t be the best idea, and Mickey immediately wished he hadn’t. If Ian was standing beside him, Mickey thought maybe he’d have been able to take on the world. But as it was, even on a closed set with most of his face covered, Mickey felt exposed like a nerve.
           He forced himself to move through the quiet gawkers. No one openly stared, just stole quick glances and whispered as he passed. Mickey prayed to a god he didn’t believe in to smite him so he wouldn’t have to last the morning with these people. He wondered if he could get away with offering his statement here first, dispelling the rumours on set before anywhere else, but more likely than not, some gopher would record it on their phone and it would go viral hours before the press conference. And Mickey needed more coverage than that if he was going to keep his career.
           Mickey didn’t see Ian until they wound up on set together. Ian said nothing, just shot Mickey a glance that could have meant any of a dozen things. Mickey simply nodded, hoped that was answer enough.
           The director waltzed onto the set a few minutes later. Upon seeing them, he spread his arms wide and placed a devastatingly snake-like smile on his lips. “My boys,” he said, voice dripping in honey and sarcasm, “What have I done, what could I have done, to deserve such a great present from the universe? Undeniable proof that the two of you are fucking. It’s beautiful. It’s iconic. It’s honestly the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me.”
           He clapped a hand on each of their cheeks. “Just look at you two. Trying to keep this from me like some sort of secret when I knew all along. Hell, I knew nine years ago when you two were barely fetuses! Oh, to have the world fall at my feet and redeem me! I’ve never been happier. I’ve never known happiness this great.”
           Mickey’s hands curled into fists.
           The director turned his way, his smile twisting into something sinister. “And you. Oh, people kept telling me that Mickey Milkovich, the James Bond of his generation, the ladies man, boyfriend of Svetlana Petrov, could not possibly be gay. How could he be? When we have all those uncomfortable sex scenes of him with women? Oh, no, Mickey Milkovich is no fag. No fag at all. And then this morning” – he laughed – “every magazine in town has a picture of you kissing none other than out and proud Ian fucking Gallagher.” He started to clap, nice and slow.
           Mickey shot Ian a look.
           Ian shrugged. “Go ahead.”
           Mickey decked the director. He stumbled back, blood on his lips and dripping over his smile. Mickey hit him again, felt something break beneath his knuckles. When the director fell, he dropped on top of him and kept punching him while the man laughed and laughed and laughed. He didn’t stop until he felt someone pulling him back, then he went willingly, hands in the air like a surrender. The security guard let go of him as soon as he was sure Mickey was done.
           “That was stupid,” Ian said.
           “You didn’t stop me.”
           “If I had, I’d’ve done it myself. And we both know you have more currency here.”
           Mickey snorted, the slightest of smiles on his face as he watched security pull the director to his feet. The man still had a manic smile on his face but at least it was properly bloodied and bruised. His nose had shifted to one side and a couple of his teeth were cracked or missing. Mickey allowed his smile to widen.
           A producer cleared her throat. Both Ian and Mickey looked her way. Without any expression, she said, “We’re not going to be able to shoot for a couple of hours at the least. And that’s only if he doesn’t press charges. I suggest you two go to your dressing rooms to wait.”
           Mickey gave her a wicked smile, liked the way she flinched. He really had missed being someone people were afraid of. As soon as she was gone, they took her advice and disappeared into Mickey’s dressing room. Ian sat him down, found a first-aid kit, and started to bandage his bloody knuckles.
           “You know,” Ian said, “if that gets out, it’s not going to back the ‘it was a joke’ story very well.”
           “I’ve wanted to punch that guy since day one. Everyone knows it.”
           “I guess.”
           “Hey.” Mickey tilted Ian’s chin up with his good hand and looked him in the eyes. “This isn’t about you, remember? If we lived in a different world, hell, if I was a different person, I’d come out for you in an instant.”
           “I know.” Ian kissed him, backed up just enough to lean their foreheads together. “I’m just sorry this is happening.”
           “Not your fault. I kissed you.”
           “I got you drunk. Let you convince me to walk back to the hotel. Did nothing to stop you. Even egged you on by telling you your father died.”
           Mickey laughed. He pressed another kiss to Ian’s lips, liking the way his smile felt against his face. He wrinkled up his nose against Ian’s. “We’re gonna get through this just fine. Trust me on that, okay?”
           “I’d trust you with my life.”
           Mickey hummed in pleasure, stole one last kiss, and then let Ian get back to bandaging his hand. It didn’t take too much longer so they spent most of the morning curled together on that couch, semi-waiting for the director to come back but mostly waiting for noon. When the hands of the clock hit twelve, Ian sighed and Mickey got to his feet.
           “I’ll see you soon,” Mickey said. He kissed Ian hard. “No matter what I say out there, I love you, okay?”
           “I love you too.”
           Mickey tried not to hear the fear, the slight loathing, in Ian’s voice. He forced a smile before he turned to the door and walked out. No one whispered when he passed now, too scared of what he’d do. He left set, jumped in his car, and stayed silent the whole way to the press conference.
           Liz had set it up on the top of some office building that supposedly sponsored him. Not that he knew their name or what they sold or even what he’d done to help them. He did too many commercials a year to really know anything about what he endorsed. He rode the elevator to the roof, glad that whatever company this was, they had a very tall building and a smooth elevator that calmed his nerves.
           Liz met him at the elevator doors, handed him a copy of his statement, and started talking. Most of it went in one ear and out the other. Mickey nodded at all the right points – years of this shit had taught him how to look like he was listening to Liz – and smiled when she finished with her usual pep talk. He stopped before stepping up onto the makeshift stage, looked out at the crowd of reporters waiting for him. He wondered what they had been told about what he was going to say. He wondered how many of them would believe him.
           After Liz finished with her speech about what could and couldn’t be asked of him, she invited him to the stage. Mickey climbed the steps and took his spot at the podium without once looking out at the press. Then, forcing a big smile, he looked up to the camera flashes. He breathed through it and held up a hand to silence them.
           “Thank you all for being here today,” Mickey said, his voice too loud in the microphone. “I’m glad to see that so many of you came. As you know, this morning a picture of me and Ian Gallagher kissing hit the press.”
           A clatter of noise and camera flashes interrupted him. He looked down at his speech until they quieted down.
           “I have prepared a statement to address the rumours about me and Ian.” Mickey swallowed hard. “As you can see in the picture, we’re kissing under mistletoe. It is a well-known tradition that any two people under mistletoe must kiss. That’s what this kiss was. Two friends following a tradition.”
           He tasted bile in his mouth. “Ian has been out since we first worked together in Boy Babysitters almost ten years ago. I have remained his friend and colleague ever since. The night of this kiss, we were drunk and walking home and I caught sight of some mistletoe above us when we stumbled into a wall. I thought it might be...” Mickey trailed off. He tried to force the word funny from his throat but he couldn’t.
           He took a long moment, too long. The press started to chatter, to shout questions, to take pictures. Mickey stared unseeing at the statement in front of him, swallowed the bad taste in his mouth. He held up a hand for silence and slowly the noise died down.
           “I’m sorry,” Mickey said. “I’m sorry. This statement was written for me by my publicist. I gave her the idea for it after Ian told me that it would be the perfect excuse for my actions. But it’s not true.”
           He stared out at the reporters, waiting for them to work themselves into a frenzy, but they stayed quiet. Something like hope burst warm and fuzzy in his chest. “I kissed Ian that night because I’ve spent the last ten years, maybe longer, trying not to kiss him. I kissed Ian Gallagher because I’m in love with him and I always have been.”
           Mickey bit his lip. “I’m gay.”
           That was when the press exploded. Reporters jumped from their seats to get closer to the stage, questions were shouted at him, and the cameras exploded. Mickey tried to blink past the flashes but he couldn’t see a thing.
           The next thing he knew, Liz had grabbed him and security was ushering the two of them back towards the elevator. The doors closed on them and Liz pulled the emergency stop. “Well. That went terribly.”
           Mickey laughed. He couldn’t stop laughing.
           “This isn’t funny. You have no idea the mess you just made.”
           “Isn’t that your job though?” Mickey said. “To clean up my messes?”
           Liz shook her head. “I don’t know what you want me to do about that, Mick.”
           “Nothing,” Mickey said honestly. “I want you to do absolutely nothing.”
<<Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty>>
6 notes · View notes
juudgeblog · 6 years
Text
Job Security v. Income Security
This article is written by Ramanuj Mukherjee, CEO, LawSikho.
My grandfather had job security. He worked for Martin’s Light Railway, British era railway company, as a ticket checker. But then it shut down operations in 1973 at the height of nationalization spree.
For a time, he did not have that job security as he was laid off, but then eventually Indian railway absorbed him.
Nationalization meant that was supposed to happen anyway. But it did not happen for a while as the old company shut operations but Indian Railway was slow in its absorption.
It was a panic situation in a household with 5 children for a year or so. What were they going to do? My grandfather used to tell me the story about it when I was a little kid.
So my father, his brothers as well as sisters were taught that only government jobs have job security and nothing else is safe.
At the time, the Indian economy was troubled. There were successive wars on our border, many global and geopolitical crisis all around us, cold war raging in the west, assassination of our Prime Minister, factories shutting down all around in our country, balance of payment crisis, government being blamed for not giving jobs to educated young men, uncontrolled inflation, sluggish economy – the world didn’t look as pretty as it does today. 80s was tough.
Job security was the thing that everyone aspired for. Survival was at stake. All people wanted was a life of dignity where you can give square meals to your children, a pair of new clothes every year for the kids at least, if not everyone, was all the luxury one could dream of.
Even I have experienced the fag end of this phase in the first few years of my life. I have memories from early childhood when I discovered that tube lights were a thing and asking my mother why we don’t have these in our house. And a phase when we could not afford electricity in the insane inflationary times of 1991. That was the rock bottom.
The turning point. When India was forced to liberalise its economy. Manmohan Singh went with suitcases full of Gold to get money from IMF and agreed to become a signatory to WTO because we didn’t have foreign currency reserves for more than a week.
We have come a long way.
The last two decades were of unprecedented growth and prosperity.
Job security is the thing of the past. Young professionals now change jobs as often as they upgrade to the next model of smartphone.
Click Above
Our parents struggled for survival. We fight a different battle.
We are worried – shall we amount to anything? Would our lives mean something? Would our careers become something we can be proud of?
And of course, whether our vacation pictures will rock Instagram.
Job security is not relevant today. Not only because we live in a more secure economy than that of the 1990s or 80s, but because businesses also rise and fall much faster. Government jobs are a very small percentage of the entire job market. Large companies rise and fall.
Even Reliance, an iconic brand we Indians usually thought as infallible, filed for bankruptcy last week. A large number of major companies in India are currently in the dock for insolvency and bankruptcy.
People are losing jobs in great numbers. But jobs are created elsewhere in the economy too. One has to be agile, informed and prepared for changes in macroeconomic trends so that they are not caught off guard.
Many want to work for startups, where job security is a cruel joke. Nobody knows how long the job or the company may last, although it may still be well paid and even prestigious, may last.
Startup employees are even demanding shares in the company and ready to take reduced compensation as long as they get compensated through equity. They also want to be a part of the growth story.
What a change in attitude! This is the biggest mark of confidence of the new generation of Indian professionals.
What is the secret to this confidence?
We have transitioned from job security to income security. It’s an amazing thing, and we must keep it in mind and embrace it fully.
Our careers are no more about job security, that no matter what I will have a job so that I can survive.
Our careers are now all about how can we grow fast. And we have income security, so we are ready to shift jobs, take risks with our career and even try out completely new, adventurous professions which perhaps give us more fulfillment, sense of purpose and opportunities to grow.
However, income security is something that we cannot take for granted. It is something to cultivate. We must develop high demand skills that will hold us in good stead in all kind of economic cycles and would have long term demand.
Don’t invest in fads. Invest your time, money and energy in long term, high demand, evergreen skills because that is what would give you income security.
Most lawyers do not have any income security because they do not have sufficient marketable skills. Or because they completely fail to demonstrate those skills to employers and potential clients. Both are very problematic situations.
What would have long term demand and income security in the legal profession? Let’s take a quick look.
Being able to draft and negotiate good contracts will never go out of fashion.
Amazing legal research skills will always come handy no matter what a lawyer does.
Being able to draft civil and criminal petitions, knowing court procedures and knowledge of litigation strategies.
Knowledge of how investment deals, M&A deals and major finance deals work and the skills to structure such deals, perform due diligence, draft and negotiate contracts and do all the compliances related to such deals.
Learning how to navigate the legal issues around burgeoning industries like Technology and Media. After all, it is certain that the next few decades will be dominated and shaped by these industries.
Business law skills that can help you to shepherd a business from inception to different stages of growths, and help startups to gain a competitive advantage in the marketplace.
Insolvency and bankruptcy related work – companies will always fail, restructure and shut down.
Arbitration, the new favourite method of dispute resolution that is rapidly growing and will still grow at least 100 times bigger in the decades to come!
Fintech regulations – the rules for the industry that is changing the world of finance faster than ever and have massive cascading effects on entire economies.
Labour and employment law, which is only growing in importance, prominence and complexity as more and more of the workforce shifts from informal to formal economy and people become more aware of their workplace rights.
Corporate tax. The tussle between the government and the biggest taxpayers in the country will never go stale, never go out of fashion, and never stop needed the most talented and clever lawyers.
There are many more. I could go on. But you may have already heard that law is a recession proof profession.
It is. It is an all weather profession. Provided you have the skills to deliver the results to your clients and the track record.
We can help you with both. Do check out our upcoming courses:
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