so here is something

anonymous asked:

you're disgusting for shipping keith and shiro

uhm pls 

I cannot hear you over the sound of someone who clearly didn’t read my rules and jumped to assumptions because of ( I assume ) the tag on one of my posts that I am crying over Keith &&. Shiro. Listen up my friend, you can cry over bromances as well 

now pls keep all that salty anon stuff away from me, because yeah. That’s not cool. 

I decided to write a letter to my English teachers to thank them for everything they have done for me. They have been a huge part of my coming out and starting my social transition, and have offered me support when I couldn’t find it elsewhere. I wanted to share this letter on here, because I thought that maybe it would help someone realize that they aren’t alone, and that what they are going through is something that happens to more people than you might think.

So here goes it!

***

Growing up, I felt like something was wrong. I felt different, awkward, and like I didn’t belong. I was constantly uncomfortable in my skin, even when I was only 5 or 6 years old. The worst part about it though was that I never had an explanation as to why I was feeling the way I was.

I remember the confusion growing when I was around 10 or 11 years old. My friends were an equal mix of guys and girls, but I always felt more comfortable around the guys. I always really associated myself more with them, dressed fairly “boyish,” preferred my hair short, and didn’t have any feminine mannerisms. I never related with girls, and always felt extremely awkward when put in situations where I had to conform to gender roles.

Fast forward to middle school: I was really starting to discover that something was “wrong” with me, and that I was different from the other girls my age. I thought that maybe it was a body issue, because I was really uncomfortable with how certain aspects of my body looked. I wasn’t a stranger to bullying either; being the quiet kid that had a slight stutter and was really fidgety made me an easy target.

Middle school was also the time when I started having a lot of family problems, and was when I started battling anxiety and depression. I grew apart from my friends, my family, and my passion for music. I was feeling lost and overwhelmed, and I started to spiral out of control. I no longer talked to any of my friends, I quit band, and I started cutting. I was completely lost.

There is one distinct memory from middle school that has stuck with me all of these years, though, and I regard it as what is possibly the most important moment of confusion in my life.

One day in gym class, I smashed my finger into a basketball and was sent to the nurse to get an icepack. I remember asking the nurse for an icepack, and she turned to her assistant and said “hey, can you hand me a bag of ice for him.” It was a weird moment for me. Being called a boy didn’t upset me, and it didn’t make me feel uncomfortable at all, which confused the hell out of me. I spent the next week and half on Google trying to figure out if something was wrong with me for not feeling offended at being called a boy. That’s when I first stumbled across a term that changed my life forever:

Transgender.

Up until the age of 14, I had no clue that being transgender was something that happened. Hell, I didn’t even know that gay people existed until I walked in on my best friend Connor making out with another guy just a couple months prior. I did more research in the coming weeks, and I even sent a few emails back and forth with a trans woman who worked for an LGBTQ organization in New York. I did some self exploration, toyed around with pronouns, and realized that this explained the awkwardness and discomfort I had been feeling for pretty much my entire life.

I didn’t like it at all.

I felt ashamed. I felt as though I was somehow betraying my parents, and that I was disappointing my parents by not being the princess they wanted so dearly. I was so ashamed, in fact, that I refused to believe that being transgender was a possibility and forced myself into the gender role and femininity that society expected of me.

Going into freshman year, I let my hair grow out. I started wearing more sweaters and even bought a dress and boots. The whole role of “assumed female” was really putting my acting skills to the test, but if it meant that I wasn’t some freak and wasn’t disappointing my family then I was willing to do whatever it took.

Freshman year came and went, and things seemed to be going okay. My grades were good, I was enjoying extracurriculars, and friendships were seeming pretty strong. Halfway through the year, though, things started to change. My mom gave birth to my brother, and all the comments made about there finally being a boy in the family were finally catching up to me, and they were bringing lots of upset with them. Keeping up with this feminine facade was becoming hard, and I was beginning to feel the same discomfort that had plagued me when I was younger. The feelings and discomfort continued up through sophomore year, where I found my anxiety and depression creeping back into my life as my struggles got worse. By the start of junior year, I had cut my hair and changed my wardrobe and was doing anything I could to get rid of that toxic feminine image I had masked myself with. Depression started kicking my butt hardcore, and I started cutting again.

Despite the fact that junior year was the year that I had started to spiral out of control once more, it was also the year that I met the most amazing and supportive teacher. She treated me with a level of respect that I had never received before, and took the time to try and understand what I was going through and offer me help when I felt as though I was beyond help. And on January 12, 2016, she helped me come out to my family.

Coming out to my family was a complete disaster, and arguably the worst decision I have ever made in my life (and I’ve made my fair share of bad choices). I got yelled at, chastised, told that I was just some confused lesbian who needed to find a good Christian therapist and some antidepressants, and that this was just a phase I would pass through. I also got the “mother knows best” speech, and was told that because I never tried to steal my father’s underwear or play dress up in his clothes, I wasn’t transgender. I was simply a confused little girl who needed some fixing up so that I would stop thinking that I wanted to be a boy.

That level of rejection coming from your own parents is one of the worst feelings a child can ever experience. I felt unwanted, unloved, and like I really was broken. The rest of junior year was a total disaster. My family relationships fell apart, I stopped talking to friends, and I just overall hated life. I felt as though everything sucked, and I didn’t want to be a part of it anymore.

I kept this mindset going into my senior year, but even though things were extremely rough, I was reminded that even broken glass let light shine through the cracks. I had the opportunity to continue work with my English teacher from the previous year, and my AP English teacher helped me to further expand upon my support network. Both teachers were there for me when things took a turn for the worse, and it felt amazing to have such a strong support network. It was my AP Lit teacher, though, that had helped me form a new sense of self confidence through starting to use more masculine pronouns and allowing me to use my name during class. She even gave me the chance to reflect on my personal experience through blogging and through the exploration of various forms of literature. I had also began to truly find some self acceptance, and I began to come out to a lot of my friends, who also were accepting and did their best to help me with everything that I had going on, which was an amazing and new experience for me.

These past years have been a hellish whirlwind for me, and I have plenty of physical and emotional scars to show that. The level of support that I have received from friends and teachers has been truly phenomenal, and I am totally blessed to have people willing to walk with me through an extremely difficult time in my life. While it is true that I have lost some friends along the way and have damaged some relationships that may never able to be repaired, the people that have stuck by my side are showering me with such tremendous amounts of love and support and I am eternally grateful for that.

Even though things have changed for the better over the past few years, I still have days where I feel like the awkward, uncomfortable child that doesn’t belong or the kid that has killed the princess of his mother’s dreams. And to be honest, those aren’t good feelings. But I know that for every bad day, there are countless good days, and I am so forever thankful for those good days and for everyone who has helped to make them possible. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for everyone who supports me.

Thank you.

~Emmett

anonymous asked:

hi do you know any works with irene adler as the protagonist but does not have any romantic relation towards holmes?

Hi! this is what I found, I’ve read just the first one, so I hope there’s something you like here:

A Matter of Integrity by mainecoon76, 3k, General, POV Irene Adler: It is a curious thing when a celebrity whom you’ve never truly met is widely considered your most prominent suitor. Irene Norton sets out in search of some answers, and discovers that sometimes the truth is a delicate matter.

Tin Box Toast by mistyzeo, ficlet, General: about the places to hide certain photograph.

The Ballad of Giselle by Lilithisbitter, 1k, Mature: Irene Norton looks back on her life, her affair with the King of Bohemia, everything before and after, and how one special man saved her life. No, not Sherlock, Godfrey Norton, the most awesome guy in the universe. Bring tissues, you’ll need them.

Epithalamium by Violsva, 1k, Explicit, POV Godfrey Norton: My wife showed up in my office the evening after we were married, and told me we’d better leave the country at once. It was not for a typical honeymoon.

The Lady the Epilogue by Violsva, ficlet, General: Holmes and Watson receive an invitation to the Opera.

Omg this is the first time I got tumblr hate, does this mean I’ve made it??? @art-is-art-is-art I love your blog, and I hope you don’t listen to this person. It’s a logical reason to stop the pain but there is so much more life worth living. I’ve been where I wanted to die so bad, but I chose not too and even though things look dreary and hopeless, it does pass. It passes and does come back but it is SO worth getting past the dark bits. Sorry guys not bird related but mental health is SO important and hits very close to home so I needed to say something. HERE’S a cute gif pic to make you smile

Originally posted by becausebirds

anonymous asked:

stating the obvious again but.. anon..THAT WAS SO NOT STRAIGHT LMAO. Here an advice: if it's something Camila would do, it's not straight.

“If its something Camila would do it’s not straight” 😂👏words to live by!

kimmys-voodoo  asked:

Heh yeah but I just want you to be happy suger, you know if you ever wanted to talk or something I'm always here for yah! By Skype or text since you have my phone number after all if something bothering you or so I'm always here for you Ollie.

Thank you, Kim~

anonymous asked:

if people start hating on alec after this ep because he hits raphael, so help me god.... it's his sister, he -failed- to notice her having troubles, he probably sees/knows raphael is feeding her, idk, it's a lot of things to take in, he reacts badly, matt already said so, it's not like he's plotting his death. idk i am a bit suprised everyone is reacting SO STRONGLY about something not /that/ severe. also what "yay moment"?

Here, Nonny, take a seat in my prayer circle. In here, we pray for people to understand that flawed characters fuck up. 

That said, I wish they had taken another route instead of having Alec punching Raphael. Not only because I hate to see my fave being an asshole, but also because Stop Hurting Raphael 2k17. 

I hope there’s more to that scene and that Alec immediately apologizes and go after the real villain. He can sucker punch Aldertree for ten minutes straight and then ask Izzy finish the job. That’s entertrainment for you.

As for the “Yay Alec” moment, it’s from this interview, around 9:11. I’m still waiting, Mr. Daddario. Forever waiting.

“Come with me Tihi, come back to your mother, we are the same…”


Me : Ok! I have lot of things to finish for the next con, so here we go!!
My brain : Oh wait wait wait!!!!!! I think of somethings!!! What if Tihi marks glow in the dark in siren mode?
Me : …
My brain : Oh! And what if we see them glow in a Lalotai’s atmospher?
Me : …
My brain : And and! You can draw her Mother too! Well we don’t chose her desing yet but we can see her a little bit ?
Me : … I hate you! I don’t have time for this!!! >3<
My brain : Yeah, but you will still do it, beacause you’re weak for that!
me : I super mega HATE you!! -_-