I respect the opinion of my elders, but just an open query about the charges brought against my generation:

For not working hard enough: where is the evidence. When we were younger you told us you started from a small job and climbed your way to the top. When we are flipping burgers it’s because we didn’t apply ourselves. When you did it, it was shouldering the future by suffering in the present. When we ask for the money to buy bread, it is shameful. When others went on strike in the name of labor conditions, it was heroic. When we ask for more, we never deserve it. So how did you get here? Did you never sit up and demand the world give you what was rightfully yours? How hard working is hard enough?

We are illerate, use slang instead of language, shun poetry: did I just imagine the “rad” bloom of the 70’s? Is it because you can’t catch our tongues in your hands? Is it because our poetry is now published beyond books, beyond the control of one voice, beyond you? That our language doesn’t need your approval to evolve? When you drew political pictures of us asking how to turn a book on, you laughed at our ignorance. When the tables turned, when we were shown to be the most literate and well-read generation on record, you scratched the mirror. You said it was our lazy nature. A body rotting. Because we read trash, or we read into things, or we write loudly and it bothers you. Why does it bother you?

School is too easy: What was it like going to school without being worried about a shooting? Did you ever cower like we have, like I did, like our friends, crying muffled in your hands because you love your parents and now have no time to tell them? What was it like, dear, in a world where my standardized testing scores would have broken your curve and I didn’t even get perfect. What part is the easy part. Is it the highest recorded level of anxiety? Is it the rising teenage suicide rates? Is it the eating disorders, body dismorphia, self harm, self destruction? Tell me, have you seen - there’s a show called “Are you Smarter Than A 5th Grader.” It’s very funny. In it, bright young kids show adults that what we’re learning didn’t even exist in common knowledge while they were in school. Tell me. If you were up against our 5th grade curriculum, who would win? No, I’m sure you’re fine. You learned it all in high school.

We want too many free things: What was it like to want for nothing? What was it like to have a certainty that hard work leads to a bright future. What was it like imagining being rich instead of imagining just being rich enough to eat good food. What was it like, not being worried that a broken leg would cost you an entire apartment? Do you know they hate us so much they would rather see us die than bring down the price of an EpiPen. And since I know you love the idea of us abusing the system, tell me, where do I go to expose the lie about my life-threatening allergy? How do I fake it, because I’d like to opt out of it, and while I’m at it my mental illness, and while I’m at it can you take my chronic pain please. And since I know that the answer is to go to school and get a degree so I can be worthy of not dying, just another question: are you aware fifty thousand dollars a year is equivalent to a house. I could buy a house instead of going to college. Since you’re good at this, while we’re talking, I have two siblings. Which of the three of us gets the money? Go on. Look at us. Choose. Who goes hungry?

We’re entitled: yes, please, give me a deed, give me land, give me better than winning the lottery. What I’m entitled to is life, liberty and the pursuit of profit, am I not? So where are any of the above? Where did the jobs go? Why do you jail people for small crimes but free the criminals? And my life? This life? I end where my body begins, I am cut off from the nation’s decisions about what I can put in or take out of me. And me? I’m safe because I’m white-passing. Don’t the bodies pile up? Aren’t we entitled to justice? Aren’t we entitled to an answer? A response from the government? More than just speeches about how riots won’t solve things? Aren’t we entitled to a fair trial? To freedom of speech? Was it not our common fathers who fought for these things?

We’re lazy: Where? Who has the money? I’ve been working since I was 12, am I just an anomaly? Or do you just ignore those who don’t fit your story? All those student-run engineering projects that are changing history. All those protests. The art world, shifting. All these adults who demand more - do they count as lazy or as entitled? What were you doing at our age? Did it really look all that different?

We don’t listen to real music, don’t like real art, are loud, are too busy partying: We changed and you didn’t keep up. Is that’s what’s so startling?

We are sucked up into the Internet, wouldn’t drop the phone if the apocalypse was happening: my phone has my family on the other end of it. Do you not save pictures from a burning building? Do you really care so little for others you’d stick to the old ways entirely instead of texting? Oh sure, yes, a letter is pretty, I love them. But just asking for a friend: What do I do in an emergency with only a pencil. And I don’t mean to downsize the problem because I mean it’s not like you took Polaroids of your friends at sunset - right? - and it’s definitely wrong of us to want memories of a really nice night, but, just curious, did you post that opinion on the Internet? Was seeing others on the Web what made you upset? Maybe - this is just a crazy idea that popped up into my head - you should go take a walk, go outside, disconnect.

We do everything different: Yes. Because we were raised on the cusp of the next great Renaissance. We are in somewhere new, a galaxy of expansion that doesn’t rely on you. That knows more than you do. That doesn’t function the way you expect it to. How rose-colored is the past to you? The place where you erase AIDS and drug abuse in an effort to tell us we are a terrible youth. Where you don’t talk about the marches that happened around you. How painted do you picture it, simply because you had to physically look in a book to learn something new? How do you turn your eyes to a world where war sits on our necks, our earth melts, our populations swell, our people starve, and we are powerless in it all - and say, “It’s your fault.”

It’s our fault. The housing market, somehow related to our obsessive need for safe spaces, I’m sure, because our dreams no longer lie in yards but rather something big enough for at least a bed, and hopefully with tasteful curtains, and you have no idea what a safe space is. The certain failure of the two-party political system, maybe somehow due to our political correctness - we are, after all, rude enough to never open doors for old ladies or just let you be racist - how we controlled the media, how our desires drove this. Our request for trigger warnings and correct pronouns is a burden, and I see that now, because our special snowflake syndrome really does hurt you as a person; while your ongoing use of torture in corrective therapy is only a problem if you’re actually looking. You’re so right about so many things. When you beat us to correct us, it’s your child and it’s your right; when it’s our bodies we ask to have rights over - well, what did we expect? It’s our fault. The crushing debt, the companies that own our government, the privatization of prisons, the unrightful searches, the human trafficking and abuse of sex workers, the gun violence, the pharmaceutical industries which control our doctor’s choices, the climate change you only just started to admit is happening, the extinction of species worldwide - we are responsible for both pollution and poaching, the lead in our water, the death in our streets. So what do you get from it? From dismissing us? From quitting on us before the race begins? From forgetting who exactly raised us kids?

Now, I was told that the problem is that we too often point to bigotry. That we hide behind pointing out your sexist comments instead of realizing the truth your words wrought. I was told we are so focused on our victories, of a world that rallied for marriage equality, for gender expression, for the safety of survivors, for a healing nation - we call out instead of calling on. So I’m calling on you, Generation X kids. Here’s your free one. No bigotry spoken of. So speak. Explain what exactly you mean.

I get it. We asked for a country. The land is borrowed from your children, they tell me.

Now why are you so afraid when we show up and start collecting?

“Ofglen had urges that led her to do unnatural things. I’m sure, to her, it felt like love. In cases such as these, the punishment is death. But, out of respect for her position, we let her live. We’re not without compassion.”

“What did you do to her?”

“We saved her. We had a doctor take care of the problem. It’s such a small problem, truth be told.”

There are many moments in the theocratic-fascist dystopian future setting of Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale in which characters use certain words or phrases from today in a way that’s clearly meant to show how not-so-implausible and not-so-far-off that future is.

We as readers are encouraged to reflect on how many people there are in the real world, right now, who think the way that the people in the novel’s fictional universe do.

The character Serena Joy’s remark about returning to “traditional values” is an oft-cited example of this.

Hulu’s miniseries adaptation of the novel adds quite a few of these. The quote above is the one that has stuck with me the most, partially because of its use of the word “unnatural” and the phrase “I’m sure, to her, it felt like love,” but especially because of its use of the word “compassion.”

When someone does something cruel and harmful to someone else, any empathetic person with a conscience will presumably be bothered by it.

But when someone does something cruel and harmful to someone else while saying that they’re doing it out of compassion, that’s especially disturbing.

This is a general principle that can apply to a variety of situations—people usually want to think of themselves as good people who are doing the right thing, even when they’re committing atrocities—but it’s especially common among fundamentalist evangelicals, specifically when they’re talking about LGBTQ people and even more specifically when they’re talking about conversion/reparative/ex-gay “therapy.”

The fact that the subject of the conversation quoted above is a lesbian who was the victim of genital mutilation on the part of a fundamentalist christian theocracy with the intention of ameliorating her “urges” is not, I don’t think, a coincidence.

In the same way that the Commander tries to justify the genital mutilation of Emily (“Ofglen”) as an act of compassion, evangelicals across America have put their children through the abusive psychological and spiritual torture that is conversion “therapy” and also tried to justify that as compassionate.

In both cases, the perpetrators believe that same-gender attraction and relationships are a kind of immoral illness and that the only way to be a happy and morally good person is to be heterosexual, so they conclude that whatever torture, abuse, and trauma has to be endured to supposedly get to that end goal is worth it.

More broadly, fundamentalist evangelicals believe that they can say and do all kinds of awful things to people, so long as those things are said or done with the end goal of converting those people and getting them into heaven. To them, the ends justify the means.

So you end up with this sort of shallow, meaningless pseudo-compassion.

Think of how many times you’ve heard an evangelical say, “It’s not that I hate them. I have compassion for the homosexuals. But…”

There’s always a but.

“It’s because I love gay people that I tell them that a fundamental part of who they are and how they experience love is inherently disgusting and immoral. My heart breaks for them, really. Can’t you tell how much I care about those depraved perverts?”

Ultimately, no matter how hard you try to get around it, no matter what your personal feelings are about it, the belief that someone is lesser-than, defective, or ill—that there’s something inherently wrong with them—will eventually lead to oppression and violence against them. Always, without fail.

And that isn’t some sort of abstract hypothetical. It happens in the real world every day. That’s one of the reasons why The Handmaid’s Tale is so disturbing.

The addition of Emily’s sexual orientation and subsequent “punishment” made it even more so.

It was one of the few examples I can think of in which such an addition improved a story rather than cheapening or detracting from it.

Book-to-film/television adaptations are often rightly derided for having ruined their stories with unnecessary changes. That is not the case here.


Just a PSA….I went gif happy….like really gif happy. So just a warning. :)

The night was winding down to an end and despite feeling like you had drank way too much, you were still enjoying what was left of the night. Tony always knew how to throw a good party because at the end of the day, it was always the Avengers that stuck around the longest. Everyone had long since gone home to their nice, comfy beds and passed out from all the rich food and alcoholic beverages. 

You could feel your eyelids droop as Clint made a silly remark about the Mjolnir. Chuckling to yourself, you leaned your body back on the couch, letting everything you’ve consumed get the best of you.

Steve leaned towards you, concern washing over his face. “You feeling okay?” His voice was low to keep from anyone else to hear. 

Smiling, you nodded your head. “I’m fine, just a little light headed.” You had a soft spot for Steve and you weren’t sure if you actually truly liked him or if it was because he was the one who had found and saved you. It had been awhile since he had rescued you from HYDRA. You were brainwashed as well but not nearly as long as his friend had, you knew very little information about The Winter Soldier. He was supposed to be a ghost but you vaguely remembered working on a few missions with him. 

It was all blurry, the memories of HYDRA. All you really could remember was the torturous electroshock therapy you had to go through to build into your body the intense physical training you endured. It was still strange to you that you could essentially pick up any kind of gun and have such precision. You hardly ever missed your target, similar to Clint with his arrows. It was a tough road piecing together everything about yourself and despite wanting to scream and shut yourself out from the world, Steve was there to guide you from it. 

He always made a point to ask how your day was going even if he was beaten head to toe with bruises and cuts from a mission. You were still on a pardon, only being used if they absolutely needed you. It was driving you crazy but you understood, Steve didn’t want to risk you choking in a fight and losing your life because you weren’t ready. You don’t know how many times you had argued with him but he was firm on getting the all clear and even then he would need to be reassured himself that you were ready.

“Do you need to go home? I can take you, if you’d like.” Steve smiled, “I don’t mind.” 

You tried to fight back a blush but you knew it surfaced by the look on Steve’s face. He turned shyly away and you sighed. “It’s alright. I’m sure I can wait the few hours out.” 

About to respond, he was called up to try his hand at the Mjolnir. Watching him, you chuckled as you took a breath and gripped the handle. You swore you saw it budge, your eyes snapped up Thor’s who wore a look of worry. With your mouth hanging open slightly, you returned to a smile once Steve couldn’t make it move again. Thor seemed quite pleased with the result and settled back into his normal gloat. 

You weren’t positive if you were just being hyper-aware of Steve’s presence but you were pretty darn sure that when he sat down, he sat closer than he was prior. You sipped on the room temperature wine that you had been nursing for the last two hours to prevent him from seeing your pink cheeks again. Every now and again, you’d peek through your hair and find him looking at you which would prompt your face to flush all over again. 

“[Y/N]! Your turn!”

Keep reading

Atomic Prejudice

Not about nuclear power! This post is about ‘staying in your lane’, various forms of prejudice such as racism, ableism, homophobia, etc. Content warning for discussion of torture as 'therapy’, medical scary stuff, mention of rape and other non-con .

I have a lot to say about 'staying in your lane’, but first I want to talk a bit about the Judge Rotenberg Center.

The Judge Rotenberg Center is an infamous residential facility for developmentally disabled individuals. The primary source of its infamy is its use of skin shock 'adversives’ (not to be confused with Electroconvulsive Therapy, where electrical shocks are used to deliberately induce a seizure for therapeutic reasons. Which does apparently somehow manage to work not-uncommonly. It is of course still labeled a Class III 'High Risk’ treatment by the FDA as it IS delivering shocks with the deliberate intent to induce seizures. But things that would be very bad in an uncontrolled environment can still be helpful medically-heart surgery is good even though one would not usually want someone cutting open one’s chest). Autism Speaks got a lot of hate for endorsing the JRC, though to their credit they have since renounced and publicly condemned it (Autism Speaks remains bad. The JRC is simply bad enough that even Autism Speaks condemns it).

I have autism. Because of this, I know what it is like to face some of the various things that autistic people face. To use a common way of phrasing, my condemning the JRC has me 'in my lane’. I have never been tortured the way JRC tortures its residents. I have however had people attempt to alter my behavior in unpleasant ways due to my autism, so this does give me some knowledge though. But here is the thing-a lot of LGBT individuals are currently worrying a lot about electroshock 'therapy’. If they have enough experience from their life to be able to understand the badness of that, then it does not seem difficult for me to say “Imagine that, but rather than trying to eradicate your homosexuality/bisexuality/transgenderness/etc they are trying to eradicate an even bigger and harder to hide part of yourself.”. This explanation doesn’t completely communicate my understanding-'harder to hide’ isn’t very clear, I’m not sure exactly how to communicate the sensation of trying to suppress something like flapping in excitement, though I could try and possibly communicate more (“Imagine a world where people consider smiling disgusting” might be worth trying)

Rather more interestingly though, I’m still only extrapolating how bad such a thing would be-as stated I’ve never experienced it. Some nonautistic, in fact not mentally disabled at all people have however. It is entirely possible that some of them are better at extrapolating the details of how the torture interacts with autism than I am at extrapolating the torture, in which case they would in fact understand this component of autism oppression better than I do.

Most people reading this however, have hopefully not been tortured with electroshock therapy. But we can still extrapolate-if you have ever had someone hurt you, or even just suffered pain at all, that gives you at least a start. The more distant your experience is the harder it will be, requiring more explanation and/or effort. Possibly too hard to overcome-I admit if you have no experience with pain at all I am at a loss for how to start other than saying “Mary’s Room” and perhaps talking about utility functions. This is a difference of quality, not a difference of kind however.

So I say to you feel free to speak out against torturing mentally disabled people with electric shocks! And that you almost certainly didn’t need an autistic person to confirm that such a thing is bad-I’m pretty confident you could have figured that out on your own.

Now, back to the original topic (not that we ever truly left it)! Perhaps some of you are wondering about the title-'Atomic Prejudice’? Well, our word atomic comes from the Latin word 'atomus’, meaning 'indivisable’ (Spoiler alert: This was kinda awkward when it turned out we could totally divide them, and they in fact divide often in nature). Prejudice is not atomic-it has parts (just like atoms!). The prejudice I face as an autistic person divides into a variety of different parts-mockery for the way I speak and displeasure at my expressions of joy for two examples. Other people face similar things for different reasons-the details and reasons might change-perhaps they have a stutter, or face mockery for their accent. Some details might matter more, others less, and some barely at all. Regardless, prejudice is not atomic-it has parts and those parts can resemble parts of other prejudices.

There is, however, an attitude I’ve seen which stands in opposition to this view-an insistence that prejudice cannot be dissected or examined. One such example is here. A few choice quotes:

Two unalike things that have different discourses that can’t be compared because they are just… Different

In a world where [the bigotry and angry signs were identical] they still can’t be compared

You can’t compare them

And the most problematic quote:

if you aren’t POC you haven’t experienced racism therefore you cannot accurately describe what is racist and why it’s bad other than the fact it’s… Bad

Really? That sounds like EXCELLENT news. After all, I’m autistic-I’ve had speeches from my mother about how to stay safe and not offend cops. Since I can therefore describe that, I guess black people must not have to worry about anything remotely similar to that! Call the presses! Black Lives Matter can go home! Non-POC have experienced poverty and can accurately describe that-I guess racist economic oppression must be gone! Hurrah!

Or, ya know, no.

Sure, my experience with speeches from my mother about how to be safe around cops probably aren’t identical to any speech a black person has received. I doubt most of their speeches are identical either though, unless their mom’s are passing a script around. What level of 'accurately describe’ is being talked about here? The point where one can quote it word for word? I have a terrible memory-I couldn’t quote any of the speeches my mom gave me word for word. Or perhaps it is a matter of degree, in which case I suggest one first imagines what sort of ratio between autistic risk and black risk would justify one’s view, and then go look up the statistics-what if the autistic risk increase is 10% of the black risk increase? 50%? 80%? What if they are equal? What if the autistic risk is higher? And ask yourself-where did such a number possibly come from?

While I was doing research for this post, I came across a post that I don’t think I’ll link (due to the nature of the content), but shall attempt to describe, where someone talked about the statement “don’t compare anything to rape”, and how they felt very awkward about it because their PTSD was caused by a medical incident where they felt their consent was messed up in some weird ways, their body was violated, and afterward they felt ruined sexually. They referred to it as “their rape” because it was the only word they could come up with to explain the sensation, and when they got into feminism the sensation was that it was trying to steal the only name they had for the way they were violated. Now, I get nitpicky 'you should use language in a formal and precise manner!’ feels. And full disclosure, that did pop up as I read the post. I promptly squashed it. I *really* care about people communicating precisely. And if I thought I was up to navigating such an emotional minefield I might try to help someone work out a more exact description (I do not think I could achieve such a thing). But they were trying to understand and communicate and work through something terrible. That is VERY important, but trying to make things ‘atomically’ bad blocks that. 

So the ‘atomic’ view of prejudice often just seems nonsensical, if taken literally dismisses real problems people face, hampers recovery from trauma, interferes with communication and the ability to bond with others. Anything else?

Well, the way I’ve generally seen it used also often seems rather dishonest and aggressive. If people can’t examine prejudice at all, then they are forced to simply take your word, and as a result your orders. You can use it like a weapon people to bludgeon them into obeying, or harm those you hate. I think a lot of people are ‘hardening’ the concept to try to seal themselves off from a world that is hurting them, but others are ‘hardening’ the concept into a metaphorical club they can use to intimidate and whack people. 

And that is no good. Besides the immediate harms they can achieve using the weaponized concept, bit by bit they make it harder for people to reason and comprehend and communicate and ally. A weapon whose very construction alone scars the cognitive and social landscape, even without its use.

The some other effects of suppression of comprehension vary, especially when there is disagreement-since if you can’t understand something except through someone else, what do you do when they disagree? This can be disorienting, though occasionally amusing. It can also worsen in-group conflicts, since if the only way anyone outside can know is through your group, and your group must have all the knowledge, even an innocent disagreement must publicly turn into an attempt to claim the other person is faking their membership. 

Now, of course checking your views with other people is important-I have one or more people look at almost every big post I write (I am far better at theory than practice, and so I especially worry that I may be completely missing something. Remarkably often the response has been along the lines of 'Oh, huh, that is a good theoretical description of what happened during [X]. Good job’ ‘During what? Never heard of it. Wasn’t even sure if something like this ever happened. Well, good to know’). The wonderful @alarajrogers and her ability to give long and informative rants on LGBT history, feminism history, fandom history, and probably some other kinds of history I haven’t asked about yet has been a great source of information (Plus she writes good fanfic). Even for autistic issues I prefer to check-checking is just generally a good idea.

However, as long as you are willing to have honest and productive discussion, I welcome you into my ‘lane’. I doubt you will be able to prove yourself a master of choosing fidgets if you aren’t autistic/adhd/whatever other brain things cause that, but even the ‘native’ occupants don’t know everything, and they can still try to help.

As for examples on the opposite end of the spectrum, I offer this by the wise, insightful, and kind @theunitofcaring who manages to describe view of prejudice where the ‘outer casing’ is transparent and every mechanism laid bare, this by the amusing, kind, and well dressed @funereal-disease who brings up additional psychological issues that I confess I cannot personally relate to or very well validate, as my psychology is decidedly based around theory and principle. They are both awesome people.

Do I… why do I do this to myself. 

Imagine Steve’s found, but not by shield, not by hydra, not by anyone even remotely notable in the long run or even the short run. He’s found by a small independent party that is ecstatic to have Captain America in their grimy little hands: all of that strength, all of that power, would certainly give them a boost up to where they belong. 

However, knowing Steve’s strong morals they know they have to break him first. Hence the torture: the electroshock therapy, the obedience conditioning, the degradation…

What’s left of Steve is a husked out shell that may or may not be wacked in the head. And when I say wacked, I mean completely cuckoo. Just imagine a male Harley Quinn with a prominent Old Brooklyn accent. 

But basically, Steve becoming a decorative ornament slash bodyguard to one of the largest mob bosses of New York. And no one notices for the longest time.


anonymous asked:

who "founded" the lgbt community? ive heard it was black trans women but i want to make sure and sorry for bothering you

no problem. when ppl talk about who founded the community. they usually are refering to Stonewall. which was the start of the modern fight for lgbt rights and equality in the US.

stonewall was a gay bar that got raided by police. and they took all the ppl dressed as women to “check their sex”. and any woman who didn’t have the socially-mandated ‘correct’ genitals for a woman was arrested by the police. so then riots followed. for a few days.

Sylvia Rivera (a bi trans woman) and Martha P Johnson (a trans woc) were some of the bigger figures in the riots. another notable person was Stormé DeLarverie (a butch lesbian woc) who during the riots escaped from the police wagon multiple times and physically fought 4 police officer while in handcuffs.

the riots sparked many other people to rise up against violence (mostly against gay and lesbian ppl bc trans was illegal basically) and formed groups and with the slogan “d*kes bash back” to literally fight back against the police violence against lesbian and gay ppl. (unfortunately around this time terf idealogy started getting popular. and many ppl saw trans women as ‘transvestites’ and not really women. conversion therapy, aka torture, also became popular following the riots)

the stonewall inn riots were the single most important event that sparked the lgbt fight for rights in the us. with in two years after the riots there was a major lgbt group in every major city in the us.

some ppl call the stonewall riots “the shot heard around the world” for the lgbt movement. before everything was kept in secrecy and shame. and stonewall was the call to arms.

if there was never stonewall riots. there never would have been any of the rights and visibility lgbt people have today in the us.

Pain in the Ass - Joker x Reader imagine

(gif credit goes to whoever made it)

{A/N} I had such a hard time making this “imagine” length, I wanted to draw it out further! I hope ya like it my lovely anonymous reader!
P.S. I’m still working on everyones requests and Play the Ace, I just thought I’d make that known. :)

Prompt: Can i request a joker imagine with this prompt?  "You’re never really ever going to love me are you?“ “I’m nothing to you, always have been, always will be.”

Warnings: Cursing.

Imagine the Joker standing outside of your cell at Belle Reve.
You helped him on a dangerous heist- the usual Friday night for the two of you, but this time things went awry. When Batman showed up to ‘take out the trash,’ your beloved Mistah J left you to the wolves bats.

“You’re never really ever going to love me are you? I’m nothing to you, always have been, always will be,” you spit through the cold iron bars you’re clutching. This time, the harshness of tone is coming from you, and it couldn’t feel more satisfying.

Your hair is a mess and the bags under your eyes have been defined and darkened a bit more from the stress you’ve been under. Your hands are rough and covered in flakes from the faint rust encrusted on the bars you try to get out of daily.

He’s let you stay here for a few weeks now, enduring torture and electric shock therapy of all kinds as “routine, since you’re just whacked too far the fuck out anyway,” they tell you. You can’t help but be bitter at the thought of knowing he knows exactly what’s happening to you and still didn’t come to help you bust out.
He’s sent you inside messages, saying he’ll “be there tonight,” but tonight after tonight came around, and he was nowhere to be seen.

His stare is haunting, and you can see the anger rising in his body as he balls one hand into a fist. He quickly releases it, stretching out his fingers and cracking his neck. You don’t give him time to calculate the sarcastic response you expect from him before you raise your voice. What did it matter now? You were just as safe behind these bars as you were in danger.

“You keep me toting along side of you, for what?! A distraction for you to get away when shit gets tough!”

You’re too angry to think about the fact that by now someone should’ve heard you, or even seen him.

“Remember the one and only time you told me you love me…” you roll your neck slightly, cocking your head back and to the side as your hair falls around your face with a demented, disappointed smile. You grip harder onto the bars, your knuckles turning white, “You love me, you love me, you love me.. Bullshit!”

His eyes stay locked on yours, and his silence already speaks volumes for what could possibly be in the cards for you if you ever did manage to break out of this hell hole on your own. You notice his eyes travel past you and he nods once. An abrupt large explosion on the other side of your cell causes you to lurch forward into the bars as you brace yourself amidst the now flying debris.

When the smoke clears enough so you can see in front of you, The Jokers gone.

You turn around hastily, throwing your arms at your sides. Fueled on rage again, your inhale to scream at the top of your lungs, but a pair of hands catch your shoulders tightly and a rough kiss is planted onto your lipstick-less lips. You shake your head once your lips part from each others and open your {E/C} eyes. There is he is, staring back at you with a condescending red grin.

Such a pain in the ass, {Y/N}, I did not miss that..” he growls as he grabs your hand and starts running, dragging you behind him through the rubble and out of the cell. You can’t help but roll your eyes and let a smirk slide across your features as you trail behind him out of the prison.

Tags: @russianintothings

A bit about what Garak and Andy really mean to me.

I was just thinking about how much Garak means to me as a queer person because he’s a queer character and how grateful I am that Andy has kept being insistent all these years upon Garak being pansexual even when corporate people were pushing against it. I wanted to talk about how I see Garak as a positive role model–which is probably fucking weird as hell since he is a spy, assassin, torturer, and a number of other ‘nasty’ things.

But there are so few queer characters, and Garak is strong, clever, intelligent, witty, loyal, creative, and unashamed of himself as far as his sexuality and gender expressions go. Garak is portrayed at times as effeminate, and yet he will fucking kill you, okay? It’s so powerful and awesome that Garak embodies BOTH these things. I mean we live in a culture where strength = masculinity, and effeminate men are portrayed as being ‘weak’ which ties right into women being portray as ‘weak’ too. Garak says fuck that shit I am a badass, and I can also make you a lovely cocktail dress that will turn all the heads, and either way I will blow your fucking mind.

I was thinking about how Garak must deal with claustrophobia, crippling anxiety, addiction, and probably depression too though that’s not as explicitly indicated in the show. But no doubt he has felt that in being an exile–he felt so bad that he turned on his wire just to escape and to deal with his life. Garak has many emotional problems, but he stays alive. He keeps fighting. He keeps doing his thing. He is an outsider on this station full of people who are not like him, full of people who hate him, full of people who’d probably rather see him dead–and if that doesn’t sound like the shit that is going on in the U.S. regarding the LGBT community and other minority groups, I don’t know what does. Many of us live in this place where we feel like we are lost, unwanted, feared, loathed, treated as people who are disgusting, wrong, and undeserving of a happy and productive life. A lot of us in the LGBT community feel like outsiders, like exiles in our own world. But Garak keeps moving on. Not only that, but at the end of things, he gets to go home again.

His home is destroyed by war, but he does get to go home. He gets to find his place again. There is still some bit of hope there even though so much bad has happened. To me… that kind of gives me hope that maybe I will find my place one day too.

I just love Garak so much, and there are so many reasons why, but these reasons are deep and personal. I think there are a lot of other people who understand this too. Garak does seem to be a favorite among queer folks in this fandom and the reasons are obvious.

I’m so thankful that Andy made the choices he did, was bold enough and brave enough to say, ‘fuck it I’m going to do this’, has been consistent through the years in insisting that Garak is queer, and that he portrayed this amazing, complex, character who faces so many obstacles but he keeps on going and living even if it’s only out of spite, or instinct, or whatever.

After the election, there were tons of helplines and suicide prevention numbers all over my facebook feed because people in the LGBTQIA community were so terrified. We still are. Our country has elected a man whose platform would see our marriages ended, our rights taken away, our people forced into torturous conversion therapy, and hormone therapy ended for those who are transgender or nonbinary. My best friend was very upset over the election and at one point I told her–we must keep fighting. Garak and Damar wouldn’t give up. I was thinking about them huddled down in the basement while outside Cardassia is being destroyed by their enemies, about them facing the Jem’Hadar, Garak charging forward screaming FOR CARDASSIA. Later she told me that it was ‘silly’ but that telling her that they would not give up had helped her find a source from which to draw strength.

Sometimes shows are just shows, stories are just stories, and characters are just characters.

But sometimes they are so much more than that.

I hope that Andy really knows how much he is appreciated, and how much of an impact he has had on some of us. A lot of us have few people who stand by our side. It is good to know that on a fictional space station there is this guy with scales and a well-tailored tunic who would sit down with us at lunch and tell us that we are okay.

adminover20  asked:

What is the BLI's thoughts on conversion therapy, using torture to turn a homosexual, bisexual, etc. into a heterosexual?

Conversion therapy is banned from sectors in Battery City and all areas in the zones under BLI authority. We at Better Living Industries believe fully in firmly in the safety of all citizens, regardless of sexual orientation. Our official statement is that sexual orientation should not be used as grounds for any discriminatory speech or actions. No special treatment is allotted to heterosexual members of our community, and no harmful treatment is tolerated when committed because of sexual orientation. Punishment for discriminatory practices range from fines to prison sentences. Those who attempt to use conversion therapy methods to ‘change’ an individual’s sexual orientation or identity will have to pay fines of up to 500,000c, and serve a prison sentence ranging from twenty five years to life depending on the severity of the offense. Opinions of the individual concerning punishment and compensation will be considered by BLI. 

Thank you for your inquiry, and have a better day!


Imagine being the tattoo artist that does Harley and Joker’s tattoos. You were only 10 years old when you started doing Joker’s tattoos and you gave Harley all of hers when her and Joker got together.

As the King and Queen of Gotham, nobody messed with them. But when word got out that a high school girl was aquainted with them, you became a prime target to indirectly harm Joker and Harley. They didn’t know something was amiss till Harley wanted a new tattoo on her arm that said “Puddin’ Lover.” Neither of them could get in touch with you and Joker became enraged, thinking that you were directly insulting Harley by ignoring them. It wasn’t until Joker sent out his right hand man to bring you to them that they found out where you were.

You had been unwillingly taken to Arkham Asylum under a false alias. You were forced under torturous treatment. Electric shock therapy. Solitary comfinement. Disgusting foods. Unjust food portions. Guards harassed you. And your mind was slipping into an insanity that you hadn’t thought possible. You saw everything in red, black, and white colors. The voices you heard were disoriented and echoed in your head. You were losing your mind. You were losing yourself. You were no longer the honor student on her way to a good future with a selection of ivy league schools. You were demented. You were driven to hatred of everything. You began attacking your guards and doctors. You started to become the false alias you were admitted as. Your doctor’s began injecting you with glowing substances and liquids. You were no longer just a patient, now you were an experiment.

It took a few weeks for Harley and Joker to find a way to get you out of Arkham Asylum. They simply wanted their tattoo artist back. But they got more than they expected. When they got you out, they were the only one’s you didn’t want to kill at all. You were only devoted to them and you entrusted them by showing your power. You could go into the minds of others and through their memories. You could rip apart their minds from the inside, driving them to desperation. If you could really focus, you were capable of sending one’s bidy into paralysis just by hitting them.

You were Harley and Joker’s new toy. Their new favorite at that. You weren’t just their tattoo artist anymore, you were their bodyguard, accomplice, and trustee.

anonymous asked:

whats wrong with the asexual post?

For the sake of simplicity, I’m going to explain using the old “punch up” vs “punch down” principle of comedy and satire.

Basically, punching up means your comedy makes the more powerful party uncomfortable and punching down makes the less powerful party uncomfortable. 

This is why we can watch a movie about children beating up adults and it’s a family friendly comedy, but a movie about an adult who harms children is a disturbing drama, horror, or tragedy.

There could be a movie about an adult hurting children played for laughs, but it would be perceived as offensive by a lot of people (myself included) because it’s abuse-apologist. 

The difference is that children are in a position of lesser power in comparison with adults, and often are actually, in real life harmed by adults who abuse that position of power. So reversing the every-day reality of that power dynamic relieves stress and can be funny, and it makes children feel good, because it’s empowering! But laughing at adults hurting children is just laughing at real world systems of power that traumatize countless people and it’s just.. not funny to me at all. 

The rule of thumb is that to write successful, non-offensive comedy, you always make sure your jokes punch up. 

So with that principle in mind, we can look at the post. 

[Image description: a post made by zupakid that says “Being asexual is great bc you only have to worry about 6 out of 7 deadly sins. That’s like almost 15% less sin”.]

On the surface, there’s nothing too wrong with it. It’s taking two unrelated concepts and connecting them in an ironic and surprising way, which is the baseline of comedy. 

But, applying the punch-up/punch-down principle, it’s important to look at the larger cultural context of the elements the joke is drawing on. 

The 7 deadly sins is an idea thoroughly intertwined in Christian ideology. They aren’t actually a part of the 10 Commandments, but most people in Christian-majority Western countries will very quickly associate them with that faith context. 

The history of these ‘7 deadly sins’ has largely been used to hurt marginalized groups. All of them are pretty normal human experiences that almost everyone will have sometime. Pride. Envy. Wrath, Gluttony, Lust, Sloth, and Greed. These are natural feelings that can lead to hurtful actions but the experiences aren’t inherently anything. And because literally anyone could be accused of these things, it’s a very effective tool for describing any marginalized person as ‘sinful’ or immoral in some way. 

(Think about anti-Semitic people assigning ‘greed’ as a character trait to Jewish people, think about fat-phobic people assigning ‘gluttony’ as a character trait to fat people, think about ableist people assigning ‘sloth’ to neuroatypical people, so on and so forth.) 

These attributes aren’t just a harmless trope, they’re much more deeply entrenched in our cultural belief systems than many of us want to admit. 

And when we look at “lust” as a character attribute, it’s important to look at how that has been assigned to marginalized groups. Lust, as a concept, has been used to oppress women in countless ways (”too distracting,” temptress archetype, “asking for it,” etc), sex workers in countless ways (even though ‘lust’ literally has nothing to do with performing sexual labor), and LGBT people in countless ways (who have been abused, faced housing and employment discrimination, have been tortured, sentenced to conversion therapy, chemically castrated, sterilized, forbidden from raising children, forbidden from using public restrooms, raped, and killed) under the guise of punishing the ‘sin’ of our ‘lust.’ 

So this joke, whether intentionally or not, is evoking a tool of marginalization– the concept of deadly sins– and is suggesting a division between ace and non-ace and assigning the notion of “less sinful” to ace people and “more sinful” to non-ace people. 

That implication directly plays into the ideology used to marginalize LGBT people, and has been evoked in traumatic histories of users who have read that post. It made them uncomfortable, scared, upset, etc., because it was a joke that punched down at them. And they have a right to be offended at that, no matter what the original intention of the joke was. 

Magic Fingers; ontae; nc-17

Anonymous asked: Hii so i really like your work… And I went to a massage parlour for the first time today and it was surprisingly so sensual because of all the oil and touching o____o would you write an ontae massage scenario? o////o *hides face in embarrassment*

this actually fit really nicely into an au i already have established, so i hope you don’t mind that i put it in there. i hope this turned out alright, it’s my first time writing ontae so uwu. so yea, this is healer au, when ontae are traveling around as a questing adventurer duo before they meet jong. i’m pretty rusty with writing, so sorry in advance if this is poo. thanks to fleckle as always!

Keep reading

Silver Tongue Pt.5

Warnings: Abuse, swearing, mentions of sex… yada yada

Word Count: 1,443

“How about a game, dolly?” 

You took the tray of cookies from the oven, and looked up to see J leaning against the wall shuffling a deck of cards in his hands.

“You read my mind deary.” You said while placing the cookies on a cooling tray.

Feeling two strong arms wrap around your waist, you turn your body to face J. You gazed in his blue eyes and went on your tiptoes so you could kiss him. 

“Could I interest you in a round of strip poker?” He purred against your lips.

A hour and 5 rounds of poker later you were stipped down to your bra and panties. While J on the other hand was fully clothed. He was hysterical with laughter rolling back and forth on the soft plush carpet.

“J.. it’s not funny!” you said trying and failing to hold back your own laughter.

“And it’s not fair of you to keep on your clothes with a body like that.” You giggled, while eyeing him up and down. 

“I could help with that ya know?” you said while reaching out for his chest to try and unbutton his shirt. 

“Now that would be cheating dolly,” he laughed while pushing your arm away. 

And cheating is against the rules, right?” you smirked.


 “And if someone were to be caught cheating?”

“Then they’d be punished for being very naughty,” he grinned.

“Well J, it looks like you’ve been awfully naughty.” You said while pulling a Joker card from his waistband. 

“Cause it seems you have a Joker in your pants.” 

“So It seems I do dolly,” he beamed, “but where it really wants to be is in yours.”

You broke into a fit a of giggles as he hovered over you and kissed your neck.

“Mmm” you let out a groan as your eyes became focused.

You were in a room with tiled walls tied to a surgical table. 

“Rise and shine sleepy head,” a deep voice called out to you.

 Unable to turn your head due the restraints around your chin and forehead you settled for calling out. 

“Who are you?”

 “I’m a little hurt you don’t remember me.” 

Remember him? A pit formed in your stomach knowing if it was anyone from your past, they were out for blood.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so shy about showing that face of yours I might be able too.” you quipped in response. 

“You haven’t changed much Y/N. You’ve still got that silver tongue of yours.” He said while leaning his face over yours, so you were able to get your first good look at him.



He had shorter brown hair neatly shaped that laid flat on his head. He five o’clock shadow surrounded a almost too perfect nose, and his strong jaw.

“You remembered.” He smiled flashing his pearly whites at you.

James Eiker to put it simply was your only regret in life. He had been selected for the same government program as you. Being a year older than you he took to protecting you. If you were allowed to show feelings in that horrible place you might have shown them for him. You two fed off each other and gave one another the strength to carry on. That is until the night you were deemed ineffective for good. 

He had rushed into your quarters giving you the warning you would need to prepare. 

“Their coming for you. You must hurry and get ready!” he had shouted at you as you grabbed the gun from, under your pillow. 

“Let them come.” 

“I help you escape Y/N, I’ll distract them.” He said while making his way to the sound of the guards.

You made it through your escape route with only minor inconveniences. You were ready to make your break out the window to freedom. When James had shouted your name. You turned around to see him held at gunpoint by 10 of the guards. 

“Come down from the window and we will let him live!” The guard with his gun pointed at James’s head yelled at you.

 “Please Y/N.” James called to you. 

His big hazel eyes pleading for you to help him. You spared him a fleeting glance before you disappeared out the window.

“Surprised to see me?” he asked. 

“Only a little,” you smirked up at him.

 “I thought they would have killed you?” your voice lost any sass it contained, as you stared up at him. 

“No, what they did was much worse.” He stated simply as he straightened his back. 

“I regret leaving you that night,” you said.

 “I’m not sure you do Y/N… but you will.”

You heard the clanking sound of surgical instruments, when James’s face reappeared over yours. 

“Do you remember the book you stole for me when we were young? You got the hell beat out of you for taking it but you did anyways. As present for me.”

“I remember,” you stated, “It was Series of Unfortunate Events.” 

“And do you remember Count Olaf’s punishment?”

“Yes..” you said while trying to recall all the details. “Everything he did to the children was done to him.” you breathed out, as it finally clicked as to what he was getting at.

 “Well call me what you will, a copycat, unoriginal, but this opportunity seemed to good to pass up.” He said, his honey like voice filled with malice. 

You took a death breath calming yourself for what was to come. 

“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THEY DID TO ME? ALL BECAUSE I HELPED YOU!!” He suddenly screamed at you, while slowly dragging a scalpel down your forearm. 

You bit the inside of you check to keep from yelling out. 

“But you know what the worse part was? Not the countless hours of torture and shock therapy, NO… It was taking you from me! The pain I felt when you were gone, was unimaginable. You see i’ve studied you for a while now Y/N. I know you’re with that clown. I know he’ll come for you. And when he does, I’ll be waiting for him!” 

And just like that he left the room clicking off the lights on his way out. Lying on the cold table, your breathing was the only sound. ‘Please don’t come for me J, Please. Please. Please.’ You begged him in your thoughts, as thick hot tears rolled down your face.

“If you moved any slower you’d be dead” 


“Oh,  wait you are now.” 

J had been having a lot of pissy fits throughout the past couple days. The process of trying to find where and who took you was a long and arduous one. As the minutes trickled by the more worried J became. When you were taken, it had awakened a beast inside him that he had no idea existed. 

Sure, he had plenty of demons and creatures calling his body home. But none so fierce and vengeful as this one. It had such a carnal desire for blood and revenge that constantly made J shake. If people thought he was a madman before, they should see him now. 

J was pacing back and forth behind his hackers and PI’s. There were 15 of them hunched over their computers furiously typing away. J knew his presence only made them more agitated, and type away even faster. He felt helpless he could only bark at them to find her quicker, or hurry up. So to help cope with his helplessness he began to imagine what he would do to the people who took his dolly. Something painful obviously. Something very long and very painful. These thoughts were the only things that could keep the monster inside him at bay. 

“Mister Joker, sir?… you might want to take a look at this.” His top hacker said, pulling him away from his destructive thoughts. 

J jerked his head to the large center screen on the wall.

 -Come and get her- 

the message read with a selfie of a hazel eyed, brown haired man smiling over your broken body. Another text came through, 

-72 Faxcol Dr. Gotham City, NJ 12345. I’ll leave the door unlocked.- 

J’s heart beat sped up. He looked around the room, all eyes were on him. 

“Well? What are you waiting for? We have somewhere to be.”

Remember that time that the Joker and Harley kidnapped Robin and tortured him with shock therapy and serums until his mind snapped and he became Joker Jr and Batman and Batgirl tried to save him and then Robin ended up shooting the Joker and killing him while laugh-crying and Barb just held him saying “it’s okay, Tim. you’re okay” over and over again while he sobbed?

Cause I do.

Purple Guy

Hey, I’ve posted this on my blog here, but I thought I’d submit it anyway.

I think we’re attaching too much onto the eye color of the human animatronic at the end of Sister Location.  I think it’s purple because this is the origin of Purple Guy.  Think carefully: these animatronics obviously have some sort of AI, and in FNAFWorld the Creator says something like, “I’ve created something I shouldn’t have.  Her name is Baby.”  This, being the blue-eyed Baby that we see in the minigame (Ennard), kills the Creator (Henry? and again, FNAFWorld is a strange can of worms), and then she is confined to the basement with the others because they are dangerous because of “certain design functions” as mentioned in the beginning of Sister Location.  These animatronics are subjected to torture every day (shock therapy), which leads to the trailer lines, “Don’t hold it against us; you don’t know what we’ve been through.”  I think these animatronics are just trying to get out of what is basically a torture facility, but Ennard is pulling the strings.  Ennard was developed to be a killing machine, and so, once ze is put into Purple Guy, ze becomes a mass murderer because ze is doing only what ze was programmed to: kill children. 

I had this theory after watching @markiplier’s first Prmetime stream, and it fits pieces together so well that I think this is what’s intended.  I agree 100% with Mark when he says that we’ve been thinking wayyyy to much about small details, because Scott is cryptic, but not impossible.