way to be safe

He was a puzzle I couldn’t never quite put together
Just when I thought I had the
comfort of having all of him
I was missing a piece
And I searched everywhere
But he always kept that one damn piece from me
No matter how much I tried to show him how much I loved him
It was his way of having me but keeping me at a safe distance
Almost having him
But not quite
I think that’s the worst way
to have someone
An almost
Because you were right there
Moments away from finally having it
Then it’s just ripped away
Stuck between what ifs and maybes
Like you never had it at all
—  Chapters from my life
Language is powerful, and even those of us who don’t choose the bisexual label have a responsibility to ensure that the world is safe for those who do. One way to accomplish that goal is to practice saying the word ‘bisexual’. Say it again, ‘bisexual.’ Paint it on the walls; wear it on a t-shirt. Write it on toothpaste on your bathroom mirror; notice it as you stare at your beautiful self. Bisexual. Say it louder; say it in public; say it to someone who might not be comfortable hearing it. Let them begin to get over their discomfort. Begin to get over your own. Ask yourself: what is it about that word that is so frightening to people? How can we lower the fear content, undo the negative associations, create new meaning, open possibilities?

Naomi Tucker 

I just remembered this quote after rereading an article from 2015 on why it’s more important than ever to say ‘bisexual’, an article I feel is even more relevant now. Please do all you can to advocate for bisexual visibility and inclusion (keeping in mind self care and personal safety is important!), no matter what your sexuality is.  ❤

to ace and/or aro black wlw: you do not have to agree with what white ace/aros say. you do not have to agree with their discourse. in fact, you don’t have to engage in it. your existence is beautiful and your struggles are something they will never understand and you deserve better than white people who are so desperate to buy into oppression that they act in homophobic and racist ways.

you deserve to be understood and feel safe in the spaces you inhabit. 

im-trying-to-be-happy  asked:

My life is over. My mom got ahold of my unlocked phone and definitely knows that I have a girlfriend. My dad too. They weren't supposed to find out ever. At least until I moved out. I don't know what they are going to do. I'm scared.

Stop.  Breathe.  Stay safe.  If they react violently, tell someone.  Get help, and do everything you can to stay out of harms way.  Make sure you have a safe place (friends house, lgbt youth shelter, etc.) that you can go to if you are in danger or get kicked out.  It will be okay, no matter how they react, you can and will survive.  We believe in you.  We all hope that they react well!  Wishing you love and peace, Mod Hooper.

#385 - Type 1 Diabetes

Huge and special thanks to @beeebuzzzcrap and a couple of anons for giving me information to make this a lot more realistic and informed. They gave me so much information and were so helpful so thank you so, so much! xx

Harry: You went into the kitchen to fill up the fourth glass of water in the hour.  Pressing your free hand into the counter top, you downed it in a couple minutes, rubbing your eyes. It was only 5p.m but you were exhausted. Just out of curiosity, you went to get your meter, bringing it back into the kitchen and setting it down, laying everything out. Taking one of the test strips, you put it in the meter and grabbed the little packet with the rubbing alcohol wipes. It was a slightly annoying procedure, but with the way you were feeling tonight, you wanted to be on the safe side. As you wiped off your fingertip, you got ready to prick it, letting the blood feed into the meter. Giving it a couple of seconds, the number came up on the digital screen and you weren’t overly surprised. The number read quite a bit higher than it should’ve been. After filling your glass again, you walked back to the living room and sat next to Harry. “You okay?” he asked, looking over at you. “Can you grab my insulin kit, please,” you rubbed your eyes, not answering his question. “Yeah,” he nodded, getting up off of the couch and going to your room to grab it as well as the insulin, bringing it back to you. “Do you need-” “No, no I got it,” you took it from him, unzipping the case and pulling out one of the syringes. Once the insulin was in the chamber, you lifted your shirt up and pinched your skin together, pushing the needle in. Harry stayed quiet, watching you. “Okay…” you murmured out, taking it out and disposing of it. Coming back to the couch, you grabbed your water and took a small sip. “I gotta give it a while to kick in…” you said softly, taking a deep breath. “Was it a spike or something?” he asked curiously. You nodded your head, pretty sure that was what it was. “If it doesn’t go down in the next 45 minutes or so, I’m gonna have to call my doctor,” you explained, Harry nodding along and being ready in case anything happened.

Liam: It came across as the flu, the nausea, the fever, the fatigue, they were all symptoms that you thought would pass. When things seemed to be getting worse though, you had to look at other options. Food nor liquids would stay in your tummy and you found yourself just wanting to sleep and stay quiet. You didn’t want to talk to anyone. “Babe,” Liam grabbed a backpack and started putting some things in it like your charger. You were confused. “What?” you murmured. “We’re gonna go see your doctor at the hospital okay?” he said with a gentle tone, grabbing a blanket for you. “Mm, no,” you frowned, but Liam nodded his head and pulled the blankets back from you, helping you sit up enough for him to get a sweatshirt over your head. “Yes,” he nodded, helping you stand up out of bed. Rubbing your eyes, you followed him out to the front landing, putting your shoes on. “When was the last time you checked your blood sugar levels?” he asked when he opened the front door. “Shit, I uh… I don’t know,” you rubbed your eyes and walked around to the passenger’s seat. “I bet that’s what all this is,” you sighed, shaking your head slightly. When you got to the hospital, Liam followed behind you as you went to let a nurse know. Knowing it could get worse in a short period of time, people were ready to come help you right away. Sure enough, DKA was the cause. You were hooked up to an I.V. to replenish your body of fluids and you had to go through with electrolyte replacement as well as insulin therapy. It was a longer visit than expected. Liam pulled a chair up next to your bed and leaned back. “Feeling better?” he asked, rubbing his arms. “I will soon hopefully.”

Niall: It had been a couple weeks since you had started with a pump, and it gave you somewhat of a new freedom. You were able to eat when you were hungry instead of paying close attention to what time it was so you would be able to take your insulin afterwards. Niall sat across from you in the restaurant, looking through the menu. “You’re good right?” he asked, glancing up for a moment, his curiosity about the device fueling questions. “Yup!” you smiled widely, looking up at him. Niall smiled softly and reached a hand across the table. You put yours in his and smiled softly, setting the menu down on the table for a moment. It had been your first date night in a while, his schedule hitting a quiet point and your new pump giving you some more freedom. Niall looked down at his menu again, smiling softly. “This all looks really yummy but I think I’m gonna get like… the chicken with all the veggies and stuff,” he pointed out. “I’m gonna get the cheese pasta with tomato sauce,” you grinned, tapping your finger over the item. Niall smiled widely and nodded his head, sliding the menu off to the side so when the waiter came around, they would know you were ready. “This is so nice, to finally be having a date night,” he said softly, rubbing his thumbs over your fingers. “Without having to worry about anything,” you added, nodding your head. “I agree.” “So it’s not uncomfortable or anything?” he asked a little quieter. “Not really? It’s just getting used to it that’s a little weird feeling, but I wouldn’t say it’s uncomfortable, no.” Smiling even more, Niall nodded his head, picking up his drink and holding it up. “To new experiences then.”

Louis: When you got to the kitchen table with your meter, you were already shaking. “Lou?” you called out, rubbing your arm as you tried to get everything out and set up, but your hands were shaking too much.  “Yeah?” he said casually, coming into the dining room where you were. “You okay?” he furrowed his eyebrows, pulling the chair out next to you. “Help,” you cleared your throat, knowing he knew how to work your meter. Nodding his head, he took over for you, putting the test strip in and opening the packet for the isopropyl alcohol wipe. He put your hand in his to try and steady it out a little bit, wiping down your finger tip before bringing the meter up and pricking your finger. Once the blood was inside, he stood up and got a tissue to wipe the little bit of blood that was on your finger. When you got the numbers back, they were low, too low to be okay. “Alright,” Louis smiled reassuringly. “I’m gonna get you something to eat okay? Just stay here.” Louis disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before coming back quickly with a juice box and a couple packages of fruit gummies. “Is this good?” You nodded and smiled at him, starting to eat it as soon as you could get things open. Your body needed food and it was making that incredibly obvious. He sat with you to make sure that nothing escalated. “Feeling okay?” he asked when you were done. The shaking had slowed down already, but you were still coming down from it. It would take a little bit for the balance to be even again.

Zayn: Dinner was almost ready so you went up into your bedroom to administer your meal time dose. With everything set up, you pushed the needle into your tummy, injecting the insulin and giving the needle a couple seconds afterwards before pulling it out and disposing of it properly. Once everything was cleaned up, you came downstairs, smelling the lovely aroma of the food Zayn was getting out of the oven. “Smells lovely babe,” you smiled, grabbing a couple plates from the cupboard and setting the table. “Yeah? I’m glad,” he smiled as you grabbed a couple of forks and knives from the drawer, bringing them to the table. It was as normal as most homes, the only big difference was making sure you had your insulin and ate enough carbohydrates at dinner. Having diabetes didn’t stop you from having a ‘normal’ life. Sure, you had to take more precautions, but it was part of your routine. You took care of yourself. You helped Zayn bring the food to the table before taking a seat and filling up your plate. “You remembered your medicine right?” Zayn reminded you, even though he knew, he was always making sure. “Yes,” you nodded, going to the next dish to grab some of it. “I’m starving now though,” you chuckled slightly, waiting for him to have all of his food before digging in. “Just checking,” he grinned, joining you in indulging in dinner. Having him remind you every day, whether it be on the phone or in person, was unnecessary sometimes, but there would always be the off day where his reminder could save you from a lot of unnecessary illnesses and feelings, so it wasn’t as unnecessary as you sometimes thought.

I Made You Mine- part 7

((Ch 6 in my nightangel tag!))
Kurt didn’t think he’d slept so well in forever- a deep slumber full of nothing but sweet dreams of soft touches and a very familiar pair of scarred lips ghosting his. He’d awoken heavy and warm wrapped in the arms and legs of Warren pressed perfectly against him, and the thick blanket over their legs was just enough to keep him cozy and safe. His tail had found its way around and between Warren’s legs to hold the angel close, and Kurt’s face now rested directly in front of the winged mutants- the angels lips and nose grazing his own. Kurt could feel Warren’s soft, shallow breaths against his cheeks and mouth, and couldn’t keep back the small smile that grew across his face and broke into a long yawn.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

i was actually going to move to Montreal but i couldn't solely because my pit bull needs freedom. i hope jordie finds a good way for juice to be kept close and safe

Me too. Juice is probably the one thing Jordie loves more than hockey


To reach through space and time
Grab the world where we could
find each other
Right time, right place
Squeeze myself inside to stay
What different choices were
made there for them to
find their way
To feel safe reaching out
instead of pulling back
Question the possibility
Of finding that place
in this now
And instead of grabbing hold
Walking away

TW blamethebutterfliespoetry

anonymous asked:

I think cis or straight(or both) writers are kinda scared of being labeled "homophobic" or "transphobic" for writing LGBT+ characters the same way they do cis straight characters. By making flawless LGBT+ characters in ideal relationships it's the "safe way" to do it. I think that's holding back a lot of character development and personality for those characters though.

i agree! i think thats a big problem. Cishet people can write flawed LGBT characters. The only problem is if all the LGBT characters are bad and all the straight people are good. Just write LGBT people the way you would anyone else!

anonymous asked:

Tocdfw you change the volume on something but it lands on the wrong number so you have to turn the volume all the way down again and turn it back up to the RIGHT and SAFE number

He’s not my president and he ain’t my damn vice president either fuck that from now on I’m calling them Don and Penis like take all possible power from their names

Friendly reminder to all my minor tumblr users that you need to be very careful on this website because not everyone can be trustworthy and as friendly as you think. Take care of yourselves and distance yourself away from older people that make you feel uncomfortable.


He’s, doing his best , 

this is a good time to remember that i love misha collins and that i am incredibly proud of him for doing what he thought was the right thing to do

I see a bunch of posts saying if your asexuality or aromanticism is caused or influenced by trauma or mental illness or neurodiversity or something, it’s still valid.

I see a lot of posts saying asexuality isn’t something that needs to be cured, that a-spec people aren’t broken and don’t need to be fixed. That people are naturally born this way.

I also see a ton of posts telling everyone it’s ok if their labels change, that sexuality is fluid and identifying as something different before or after or now doesn’t invalidate the person’s orientation at any point. That if it’s useful for the person now, they can use it.

But I don’t see a lot of posts, actually basically none, that actually address the point where those things intersect.

If your asexuality or aromanticism is caused or influenced by something, your orientation is valid, and it doesn’t mean you couldn’t have been a-spec without it. Maybe you were born this way, maybe you were made this way, but no matter how you got here, you are still a wonderful valid person.

You are not broken if you do not feel you are.

It is also completely OK for you to feel like you are.

If you feel your orientation is something that is only temporary, because of mental illness or trauma, and you had labels you identified as before and want to identify as them again, you are so valid.

It is ok for you to think something broke and for you to want to repair or mend it. If you have a bowl because the top part of a clay vase broke, it’s ok to want a vase again. Kintsukuroi creates beautiful art out of broken pottery people mended.

It is also so ok for you to feel like some part of you is broken, and to want to let it remain that way. You don’t have to fix it. People make mosaics out of broken glass, and they are far more beautiful than the beer bottles they came from.

It’s also ok to not know how you feel about it. To feel like some days there is nothing wrong with you and other days to feel that part of you is just shattered shards of something else.

No matter what, you are valid and your experiences and feelings about your orientation are valid.