i don't even know what i was trying to do but i failed

anonymous asked:

Hi Alice, odd question but: Do you believe asexuals belong in the LGBT community? I have a friend who identifies this way, but as a trans girl, I'm struggling to understand how she has to go through the same things as an LGBT person by being asexual. And struggle aside, I don't even see how asexuality is THAT different from heterosexuality, just with more... hesitation!? Maybe this sounds rude, but I know you've written about asexual people etc, and I wondered what you thought. No shade intended

Hi there. I’m glad you reached out to me about this because you must have really upset your friend by saying stuff like this to them.

It’s easy to see why not only cishet people, but also LGBT+ people, think that asexuality is fake. The world is awash with sex and sexual attraction. It’s everywhere. And everyone is supposed to want it and feel it. It’s so extremely normalised that the idea that someone could be literally UNABLE to feel sexual attraction is, to many people, absolutely bizarre and a joke.

Even if you acknowledge that asexuality is real, it’s also easy to see why you would be so quick to reject and get angry at asexual people who call themselves LGBT+. Because asexual people are not like you, are they. Unless they are trans, asexuals don’t have gender troubles, and unless they experience same-gender romantic attraction, asexuals don’t experience same-gender attraction! Lesbian, bi, gay etc people can all be joined together in their experience of same gender attraction, and all trans folks, binary and non binary, can be joined together in their experience of feeing a disconnect from their assigned birth gender.

The result? No one wants asexuals near them. People can’t relate. No one else feels the way asexuals do and people don’t think they should be part of the group. They’re not the same as you.

But oh god, they are not allowed in the cishet club either.

The first thing you need to try and unlearn is that asexuality is in any way similar to heterosexuality. It’s not. It’s so, so fucking not. It’s painful how different it feels to be asexual compared to being heterosexual. Telling an ace person that asexuality isn’t ‘THAT different from heterosexuality’ is about as accurate as saying being gay isn’t ‘THAT different from heterosexuality’. Being asexual means you do not experience sexual attraction, ever. EVER. And while that might seem easy to you, it’s an extremely painful and terrifying thing to learn about yourself, in a world where everyone is expected to have an array of sexual experiences, fall in love, get married, and anyone who doesn’t do that is strange and a freak.

Learning you are asexual can be terrifying. When you realise you’ve never had a crush, when all your friends have had ten each, you are terrified. When you pass the age where people have started dating and having sex and you still feel nothing - NOTHING - you are terrified. When you think about ever falling in love and the idea disgusts you, or you think about falling in love and you crave it, god you CRAVE it, but you know you can’t ever feel that, you are terrified. When you realise you will never be able to enjoy a normal romantic/sexual relationship, the ones full of passion like you see in the movies, and people will reject you because you can’t fancy them in that way, and there’s a higher chance for you than anyone else that you will simply die alone, without love, without children - you are terrified.

You think being ace is the same as heterosexuality? You think it’s an easy thing to learn about yourself? Explain the terror, then. I’m all ears.

The fact you see asexuality as 'hesitation’ is really horrifying to me. Asexuals aren’t attracted to the opposite gender but 'hesitant’ to act on it. Asexuals DO NOT feel attraction. To anyone. It’s not a choice. It’s not a way of life. It’s not the same as celibacy out of choice, or being a 'prude’, or waiting till marriage. It is ingrained in you, just like being gay is, just like being trans is. It is a part of you that no matter how hard you try to will it away, no matter how hard you try to persuade yourself otherwise, you cannot help it. You DO NOT feel attracted to ANYONE.

And in saying all this, I fully acknowledge that asexuals do not experience the extent of oppression that other LGBT+ folks do. There are no laws regarding asexuality. Lesbian, gay, bi, trans, and other LGBT+ folks no doubt experience a higher level and intensity of systematic oppression to asexuals, more frequently go through hard experiences due to their orientation or gender. But since when did being LGBT+ become a competition for 'who’s the most oppressed’? Is that what LGBT+ is? You’re only allowed in the club if you’re 'oppressed enough’? If you’re 'gay enough’? If you’re 'trans enough’?

If you need persuading that asexuals do experience their own form of oppression, though, consider the number of asexuals who are coerced into sex in order to 'fix’ them. Consider the emotional pain that I have already discussed, of feeling that there is something fundamentally wrong and gross about you because you feel attracted to no one. Consider the number of asexuals who are hounded or emotionally abused by their families for failing to find partners. Consider the number of asexuals who force themselves to have sexual experiences, because it is the norm, because they don’t even know what asexuality is, because THEY think that they are just 'hesitant’, despite finding sex disgusting and feeling no desire to do it. Do you really think asexuals are just running around, free and happy and content in who they are? They aren’t. I’m not.

So go ahead. Cast aside asexuals if you want. Call them attention-seeking, call them special snowflakes. Ignore the pain they feel. Make them go through it alone, in pain, terrified of what they are. Why on earth would the LGBT+ community be a place to support people like that!?

Messages like the one you have just sent me gives me further reason to never talk about that part of myself. To just sit and cry about it at home day after day because I do not like myself. Because I feel that nobody will accept me or understand who I am. I could list the number of things people have said to me to discredit and laugh at this part of myself, but it’s people like you who make me embarrassed to talk about it, too scared to own a label and talk about it freely and openly.

I thought, going into this, that the LGBT+ community was one of total respect, understanding, and empathy. I learnt pretty quickly that it is not.

I send love to your asexual friend. I really, really do.

Disclaimer: I am very aware of the nuances of asexuality, of the differences between romantic/aesthetic/sexual attraction, but sadly it seems that many people can’t even grasp the basic concept of asexuality, so I don’t quite think they’re ready for that yet.

astrological signs in love
  • aries: likes to fall deeply in love with incredibly insecure people and have an explosively passionate, yet volatile relationship... but hey at least it's interesting
  • taurus: likes to pretend they're so heartless that they don't even know how to fall in love, fails terribly every time
  • gemini: likes to fall in (and out of) love with anyone and everyone that crosses their path, multiple times a day. confuses all their friends (and themselves tbh) to the point of not even listening when they talk about love
  • cancer: does not like to fall in love, does it very grudgingly, throws adorable temper tantrum when they get called out on it, sulks, repeat
  • leo: falls in love rarely. completely, 100%, OH MY GOD BARBARA CALL THE POLICE stuck in love when they do. painful to watch honestly, but shit it's cute
  • virgo: likes to fall in love with nerds. every. single. time.
  • libra: likes to fall in love way too fast and make a complete fool of their weirdo selves trying to woo their unsuspecting prey (endearing and surprisingly successful)
  • scorpio: likes to bullshit their way through multiple "serious" relationships for years and years until one day they realize that they're in love w their gross best friend... but in a cute way
  • sagittarius: likes to fall in love from afar and watch the object of their desire go about their daily life, hoping senpai will magically notice them in their quiet little world of reflection
  • capricorn: falls madly in love, shows it, "JESUS WHAT HAVE I DONE", terrifies self and lover with erratic, confused behavior, takes it all back, runs away, pines for months, tries to be friends again and act like nothing happened (until alcohol attacks)
  • aquarius: ?? ?!?! ?? ? :) !! ? :(
  • pisces: likes to fall in love with people who have fallen in love with them, basks in love's glow for a few months, realizes they just needed attention, formulates an escape plan
Don't take my lawn decorations.

I had purchased my first home in a slightly lower class area of town, which is pretty close to an even lower class area of town. (Think slightly ghetto a mile from absolute trailer trash.) I know most of my immediate neighbors, since most of them are pretty loud and I’d rather be friendly with them than have them be my enemy.

Some local kid likes to go around collecting trash in his free time. A real nice kid, does it for really no reason. Whenever I see him, I usually get him a drink, lemonade or soda so he can stay hydrated. (California is hot.) Sometimes I give him a few dollars, I offer the kid $30 a month to mow my lawn 2x a month. So, kid has a gig for small, but consistent income.

The kid takes a lot of pride in his work. He mows the lawn, pulls weeds, moves rocks out of the driveway, and just makes my place look extra nice, even though I don’t even ask him to do any extra work. This guy is great.

This goes on for a few years, kid is now a senior in highschool. Family is not doing so great, dad just lost his main source of income, and mom had accumulated debt which put a lot of stress on their failing marriage. Mom was abusive verbally and sometimes physically to both the kid, and the Father. But the kid keeps on walking, doing work, volunteering and being a real happy, up beat dude.

Despite his troubles at home, the kid starts buying lawn decorations. Mostly small, little gnomes, some decorative rocks, and bird bath, and he decorates my yard. It looks amazing, but I knew he must have spent a lot of his own money on that. I try to reimburse him, and he denies. He won’t take it.
I know he needs a car, and I was about to get a newer one for myself, so I gave my mine for free. It really was the least I could do for this guy for everything he has done for me.

A few weeks later, a drunk driver T bones the kid, and he dies on the scene. I was devastated, his parents were devastated, and they soon after got a divorce.

They were fighting over who gets what, and the father discovers that the mother had a drug addiction she had been hiding. Straight out of left field. She wants everything they had, and she lawyers up to fight the battle. Due to the debt the mother had accumulated on the father’s bank account, he had really no money. And nobody knew where she got her money from.
As sad as it is, it’s not my affair. Until she sent me a letter claiming that the yard decorations are rightfully hers, and that she will take them “or else”. Now, this is a problem.

I get it, you lost your only child. You’re in a lot of pain as a parent. But you were never a good parent to him. I was closer to him than you, by a long shot.
So, I had a meeting with the father, and told him not to worry about the court costs. I decided I was going to fund him in court.

Long story short about their divorce battle, but he wins, and gets to keep everything, and even gets a restraining order on her. He then files for credit card fraud, and puts all the debt on her.

I heard from the father that she was recently arrested for driving while drunk, and was search and has a decent stash of meth on her. She is currently awaiting trial for that, while the father is living a life now relatively stress free.
And I got to keep my lawn decorations.
RIP Johnathan. You are missed.

ask-changeling-eight  asked:

Your movement of anti fascism will fail. Do you know why? Because fascism doesn't exist. We killed it after world war 2. Honestly if you did even a little research into fascist Italy Japan or Germany you'd see you're just like them. Black uniforms, masks with skulls, attacking people to instill total fear into the hearts of people who don't agree with you. Fighting fascism with fascism doesn't make you the good guys, it makes you a slightly different version of fascist.

Sigh.  The sad thing is that we get messages just like this from clear, well-informed experts on fascism like ask-changeling-eight all the time.  

Because fascism doesn’t exist. We killed it after world war 2

Oh, that’ll be a huge surprise to Francoist Spain or the Estado Novo regime in Portugal or the people suffering under the fascists of Daesh/ISIS/ISIL or the 200+ fascist cults, political parties, and terrorist groups that have existed since WW2.  You should tell them.

you’d see you’re just like them. Black uniforms, masks with skulls,

Of course, because fascism (which we’ll remind you no longer exists according to yourself) is defined by the clothes people wear.  That’s in the dictionary-definition of fascism, right?

fas·cismˈfaSHˌizəm/nounan authoritarian and nationalistic right-wing system of government and social organization.synonyms:authoritarianism, totalitarianism, dictatorship, despotism, autocracy; More (in general use) extreme right-wing, authoritarian, or intolerant views or practice.

fascism [fash-iz-uh m] noun1.(sometimes initial capital letter) a governmental system led by a dictator having complete power, forcibly suppressing opposition and criticism, regimenting all industry, commerce, etc., and emphasizing an aggressive nationalism and often racism.2.(sometimes initial capital letter) the philosophy, principles, or methods of fascism.3.(initial capital letter) a political movement that employs the principles and methods of fascism, especially the one established by Mussolini in Italy 1922–43.

fascism noun  fas·cism \ˈfa-ˌshi-zəm also ˈfa-ˌsi-\

1often capitalized :  a political philosophy, movement, or regime (such as that of the Fascisti) that exalts nation and often race above the individual and that stands for a centralized autocratic government headed by a dictatorial leader, severe economic and social regimentation, and forcible suppression of opposition2:  a tendency toward or actual exercise of strong autocratic or dictatorial control early instances of army fascism and brutality — J. W. Aldridge

attacking people to instill total fear into the hearts of people who don’t agree with you.

Right.  Because advocating for apartheid and genocide = just another, perfectly normal opinion that we may not agree with and should just have a polite debate about over tea.  

Or maybe fascism (which, of course, you’ve informed us doesn’t exist), isn’t even a valid opinion but instead is a historically & scientifically-discredited belief that is common to the beginning of every genocide in human history.  

Fighting fascism with fascism doesn’t make you the good guys, it makes you a slightly different version of fascist.

Now where have we heard this liberal false equivalency bullshit before?  


hooligan-nova “Fighting fascists makes you a fascist” makes no sense. The defining feature of fascism is not violence.

If I fight a mugger I’m not a mugger. If I fight a bear it doesn’t make me a bear.
Fascism is about control and antifascism is about refusal of that control. 


Let’s leave the last word for Holocaust survivor Frank Frison, shall we?

“If fascism could be defeated in debate, I assure you that it would never have happened, neither in Germany, nor in Italy, nor anywhere else. Those who recognised its threat at the time and tried to stop it were, I assume, also called “a mob”. Regrettably too many “fair-minded” people didn’t either try, or want to stop it, and, as I witnessed myself during the war, accommodated themselves when it took over … People who witnessed fascism at its height are dying out, but the ideology is still here, and its apologists are working hard at a comeback. Past experience should teach us that fascism must be stopped before it takes hold again of too many minds, and becomes useful once again to some powerful interests.”   

ask-changeling-eight, if you’d like to actually learn about what fascism is and how it developed so you don’t look like such an ill-informed jackass the next time you decide to opine on the topic, we’d recommend having an adult read & explain this book to you.


i. domesticity

I drink milk every day because my doctor says I need it to grow. Kind of like I need this calcium rush in order to make my bones stronger so I stop cracking them so easily. Preventing them from ever reverting to the weak, knobbly knees of last summer when a boy I had a crush on. Had a crush on, crushed me. Like a pulp. Into grains. Like a spoon grinding up soggy cereal swimming at the bottom of a bowl. I wake up in the middle of the night, remembering I didn’t drink 3 glasses today, and run to the refrigerator in my socks and chug it straight from the gallon, barbaric and yearning like a schoolgirl hitching her skirt up too high, and picture the white flowing through my veins. Softening me. Rounding me out. Giving me curves. I get a brain freeze instead and pray I’ll stop crying over spills and that I can sleep with this cold lurching in my stomach.

ii. vicinity

Maybe one day my hair will stop being so limp in the heat, but I don’t think that kind of thing can be anticipated, so I just have to wait. Girls like me live in the back of an un-air-conditioned convenience store, ratty sweatpants, tight tank tops, and crawl out with week-old receipts bursting from their pockets. Like glued ribcage kind of girls, like elastic hair tie, red marks around the wrist kind of girls. The cashier doesn’t mind when I snag a magazine from the rack and browse through it without paying because no matter how hard I try, I end up looking pre-pubescent anyway. And they let things slide. For a girl like me, at least. I’m saying, lopsided bun, wide eyes, a mouthful of crooked teeth, stars pulling them into their places, I was always too scared to get braces. The cover has some headline about how to enlarge your breasts naturally, which I think might be useful, and another about how to communicate effectively with others without saying hurtful things, which makes me laugh. I flip to the back to check my horoscope and eat that prophetic, adolescent shit catered to the teenage soul up like Eucharist laid under the tongue. Swallow down a spoonful of March’s: “Prepare to face some stress this month, but that’s okay! You’ll be able to get through it and find time to relax.” I want to rip out the page and shove it into my bra, like keeping these soft, meaningless words close to my chest will make them seep into my heart and change me. Stop making me think so much, fill my brain up with Arizona tea and static instead. But I’m cheap, and I shove the magazine back. I think my chest will stay flat forever.

iii. mobilization

I seek healing. Mending. I’m fingernails deep, sitting in the back of a subway at 3 a.m., pressing crescent moons into the leather seat, trying to dig up salvation. You can’t find that here, you can’t find that in the cracks between the tiles, you can’t find comfort in the ground up cigarette butt stamped into the floor. I’m wishing against this fogged up glass I could say anything, anything that would make sense for once, so someone could help me. Like please, my mind is bending in backwards, like please, I don’t think this underdeveloped chest can take any more of this resentment or it’s going to explode through my ribcage, out of my flesh, like please, I don’t want to hurt anymore. And it’s not my fault that I launch myself around like I’m in some sick little competition, pretending I don’t care, like I’m having the time of my life. Of course I’m not, of course I’m not, I don’t think having your hands shake and your brain go fuzzy whenever you think a little too much is fun, something to be documented for the world to see. I guess I’m different from other people that way, I’d rather people think I’m having a good time than actually have one without anyone knowing. I wish I knew how to sew, so I could stitch up my fibrillating heart, no matter how sloppy and crooked, but the needle jabs my finger as the subway lurches left, and I bleed, I bleed, I bleed.

iv. unearthliness

My mom told me not to walk naked in front of the altar. Disrespectful, she called it, and even though I agree, sometimes I test my divinity and emerge from the bathroom, the steam from the shower wafting off smoke like the incense in its pot. Young god, skin tinted green from fake gold. Young god, empty stomach, fruit scooped out of its rind, leaving me seedless. This hatred has roots, and I don’t know whether I want to dig out my insides with my hands or fill myself up until I’m close to bursting. I let people think the scratches on my knees are from a night of alcohol and a boy tugging my hair. Of course, it’s that and not child worship on a scratchy rug, not begging for forgiveness, not praying for glamour and glory, not hoping for. Of course it’s not hoping for something better.

—  this pain lasts in every location

anonymous asked:

hi just wanna ask u, as a lebanese muslim, what defense do u have if any, for israel's invasion of palestine. i agree completely that Jewish ppl deserve a homeland just as any one else does but to invade an already existing and developed nation is cruel. i know ur not 100% pro-israel but i just want to hear ur side bc u don't seem to extremely support either israel/palestine. also, im antizionist but i fail to see how this makes me antisemitic? i have nothing against jewish ppl, just israel. ty

OK. I’m going to break this down a bit because there’s are many components to your ask and some of them are contradictory.

1. Agreeing that the Jewish people deserve a homeland is a form of Zionism. I’m frustrated by the term “anti-zionist” for a number of reasons, especially considering very few people who use the term seem to actually know what Zionism even is, or what it sounds like to most Jews. 

2. Many far right Jew haters use the term “Zionist” interchangeably with Jew and many anti-zionists who are predominantly concerned with the plight of the Palestinians end up buying into all sorts of antisemitic ideas because they’re sold as “anti-zionist.” This is incredibly dangerous to us as it allows antisemitism to be transmitted under a different label and far too few anti-zionists bother to challenge these ideas, allowing them to spread. This is dangerous for Jews and it makes it harder for us to take anti-zionists seriously when they say they aren’t antisemitic.

3. As far as Israel is concerned the circumstances are complicated and too many people try to simplify it by acting like either the Palestinians don’t exist as a people, which is wrong, or that the Jews were pure colonialist invaders which is equally wrong. This drives me nuts. So I’m going to have to break this down a bit. 

Most of the challenges I see to Zionism as practiced by Herzl and Ben Gurion are cherry picked and largely irrelevant to the cause’s necessity. Had there not been multiple waves of refugees, I probably wouldn’t support what they were doing. I also wouldn’t exist. Let me break this down a bit.

British Mandate Palestine’s Jewish Population DOUBLED between 1933 and 1939. The reason for this is twofold.

1. Nazi Germany came into existence, took over neighboring countries and began their steady process of destroying Jewish rights and safety. We all know where that led.

2. Britain, who was controlling Palestine at the time, kept immigration there open when most other countries, including the British mainland and the USA were closed. History has proven that they did, indeed, save their lives by fleeing there.

In 1939, the White Paper, in response to Palestinian protests and revolts, severely restricted Jewish immigration to British Mandate Palestine, left Jews with almost nowhere to run, right when WWII was beginning and the worst effects of Nazism were about to be felt. 

Now here’s my question. Would you bar Jews fleeing Nazism from entering the country? Knowing what we know now? Knowing that nowhere else was taking them in? 

Jewish immigration to Palestine slowed to a trickle during the Holocaust and Jews were literally trapped in Nazi occupied Europe and North Africa. 6 million died. This is historical fact.

After the Holocaust, the survivors who tried to go home faced pogroms, yet were barred from immigrating. They were forced to live in refugee camps. Again, no country made a significant effort to let them in. The USA wouldn’t until 1949 until AFTER Israel’s founding. My grandparents came to the USA because of the Refugee act of 1949. For survivors before 1949, it was Israel, pogroms or homelessness.

The next major wave of immigration to Israel were Jews in the Middle East and North Africa who were driven out of their own countries for being “Zionists” regardless of whether or not they actually were Zionists. These Jews actually form a majority of Israel’s current population. They were driven out and Israel took them in. What alternative did they have?

Finally Jews from the USSR and Ethiopia were facing brutal, systemic oppression and they came to Israel to live safely and freely among their own people, options they didn’t have elsewhere.

Now, here is my problem. Much of the rhetoric and tactics employed by anti-zionists don’t just demonize the Israeli government or state, but Israeli people, the majority of whom are Israeli because they were fleeing for their lives and safety. This is thrown in the garbage bin in favor of throwing out false equivalencies to the Boers or the British Empire. There is a level of hatred thrown at average Israeli Jewish citizens I don’t see thrown at the residents of any other country that is guilty of comparable crimes. I don’t recall seeing people damning Russian actors for being Russian the way I see Gal Gadot being damned for being Israeli. I personally live in the United States, a country built on slavery and genocide, and I don’t see instant hate the way Israeli Jews do. And, had circumstances been even slightly different, my grandparents would’ve moved to Israel instead of the USA after the Holocaust and they would’ve suddenly been treated as evil.

I don’t particularly care at this point about a one or two state solution, though I oppose the idea of annexation as being suggested by the Settler movement because it would result in genuine apartheid. What I do care about is fostering a reality where Jews and Palestinians can live side-by-side as neighbors either in neighboring countries or in the same countries and that will be impossible so long as demonization of Israeli Jews remains a major part of the pro-Palestine movement. How do you expect Jews and Palestinians to live as neighbors when they are taught to hate each other and are egged on by foreigners? 

Peace of any sort can’t happen until people actually want peace and the current environment is so grotesquely driven by hatred and demonization that I don’t see any solution as viable until we see major changes in how it’s discussed. But when Israeli voices, even moderate and liberal ones, are shut up, that is impossible. You can’t make peace with people you refuse to even talk to. This has to stop. 

Mutsuki, Gratuity, and Violence

Mutsuki’s behavior is shocking to say the least. There’s been a lot of speculation made of exactly why his character made the turn it did from introduction to this point. I’m going to attempt to give my own personal interpretation, on putting together an arc for Mutsuki, and what point Ishida intends thematically by bringing out Mutsuki’s violent side the way he did. Note, this meta is almost entirely about violence, so besides spare mentions of torso the sexual aspect of Mutsuki’s character are not going to be explored. I’ll do that in a later post.

 Read more under the cut:

Keep reading

motherapricot  asked:

I know you don't normally answer questions, or at least I haven't seen to many. But I was curious as to your stance on historical figures that were queer but not of moral standing. Ex. Alexander Hamilton was most likely bisexual or something of that configuration, but was also a slave owner. I see a lot of lgbt+ historical icons, who are "Disqualified" because of something they did. I was just wondering how you felt about it (1/2)

(2/2) Personally, I think their being a lgbt+ historical figure should be acknowledged, but so should their downfalls so they won’t become an icon per se. I’m not really too sure how to verbalize my thoughts, but I hope that was somewhat coherent. And I’m just wondering what you as queer historians have to say on the matter

First I want to say that you did a great job of verbalizing your thoughts and I really appreciate you coming to our project to discuss this because we do have some thoughts and this is an interesting topic overall. 

We discussed this briefly in our most recent article Annemarie Schwarzenbach

In discussing her life we note this concept briefly saying: 

“We know there have been queer people who are horrible, in fact we need to look no further than one generation above Annemarie herself. Her mother, a queer woman who actively supported Nazi’s. Queer history is not clean. It is not simple, or easy, or always on the right side of the battle. Like all of history it is complex.”

And today actually I saw someone do the exact thing you were talking about in a post saying:

“can we all just pretend james buchanan wasn’t gay, i don’t want him”

So this is a real thing, and it is actually something we have dealt with a lot in our writing. In the post above I don’t think the person was seriously saying that we should pretend this historical figure isn’t queer, I believe from context and tone it is probably just a person who is venting and wants their community to be full of unproblematic people. 

But that very idea, even in a joking tone, is harmful and we should unpack it and want to thank you for giving us the opportunity to do so. 

So to begin, this phenomenon has many origins but one of the big ones is probably peoples desire to turn history into a series of Great Men. And while this theory is not directly discussing what we are about to, we believe it to be a factor in the problem. Because in the end both of these problems find their roots in attempts to simplify complex concepts/events/people in history. 

We want history to be easy, we want to look at a person and say “this person is Bad and I am in no way connected to them because I am Not Bad” but that isn’t what history is. 

History is endlessly complex, confusing, and at times frustrating. And these are often seen as “bad” emotions so we try to squish history down into more bite sized concepts so we don’t have to feel them. Make history into this battle between good and evil, where everything is simple and easily understood. 

So when people look into the history of a community, they use its members to “prove” whether the community was good or bad. Which leads to communities trying to repress the more nasty parts of their history. 

And Making Queer History is not immune to this. In fact it is something I often think about, and have in many cases failed in. I am a writer, and I do my best writing when I care about the people/subject I am discussing. So I am more likely to choose to write about someone I like than someone I don’t. 

An example of this happened last week actually. I had been thinking about this exact concept and to attempt to stop it from affecting our project too much I tried to write about Salvador Dali. A man from history I hate. And I cried.

Legitimately, I got so mad while researching this man I began crying, and I ended up writing about someone else. 

And while I did not actively deny that Salvador Dali was queer, I did in a small way contribute to the problem that leads people to do that kind of thing. 

We want to see the good side of a community we are a part of because if the community isn’t perfect our minds try to simplify that into the community is bad. So many people either react by deciding the community is bad, or by rejecting the person who stops the community from being perfect from the community, and neither of those responses are healthy. 

So yes, you are right. Denying that the “bad people” in history could have also been queer, is not accurate or good for the community as a whole. It is denying facts, it is removing nuance, and it is damaging how we view ourselves as a community.

Because when we remove these people from our history we absolve ourselves of their problems. In the case of Alexander Hamilton, we remove a racist man from our communities history because we don’t want to think about how our community has had (and still has) a problem with racism.

I like to say that just because there have been queer people who have done bad things in history, does not mean that being queer is what made them bad. But it also goes the other way, just because queer people have done amazing things in history, does not mean that we are as a whole an amazing community.

We have problems that we need to address from our history that have carried on into our present, and pretending they were not a part of our history is just another way of denying they could be a part of our present. So we need to look at these “bad people”, so we can address the problems that we had, and how we in our community can try to prevent those problems in the future.

The queer community is not inherently good or bad, because the queer community is made up of people, and each person has negative aspects and positive aspects that they bring to the table. And the community is just in the end a jumble of all of these positive and negative aspects. And the sooner we acknowledge that the sooner we can move to the next step making an environment that supports change and growth with education, and positive and negative reinforcement, instead of just throwing every person who does something wrong out of the community. 

There have been great people in our community, and there have been horrible people, and we need to look at people on either side of the spectrum, and in the middle. Because history is endlessly complex, confusing, and at times frustrating, but that is a good thing because humans are too.

Paper Planes (Lin-Manuel x Reader)

Summary: Soulmate AU where if you throw a paper plane out your window it always makes its way to your soulmate. You can’t write your full name, your location, or any contact info, anything else is fair game. It’s up to fate to bring you together.

Word Count: 1,775

Warnings: Zero proofreading. It’s strictly fluff though so you’re safe here.

A/N: This was such a cute idea and also reminded me of that one Disney short. You know the one. Also, I will jump at any opportunity I can to write sappy love notes and Lin’s messy handwriting. Please don’t ask me about logistics of this, I have no idea what happens if your window is shut and your soulmate throws a plane, I’m just here to write fluff.
___________________________________

Your parents had told you the story all through your childhood. They would always weave you intricate tales at bedtime about how you might meet your soulmate. Your favorite stories always had a prince playing that role. As you got older the stories evolved from fictitious plots to questions and conversations. 

You received your first letter from him at seven years old. It took you by surprise when the paper plane made of blue construction paper landed on the floor of your bedroom. You scrambled from you bed to scoop it up and inspect it. You unfolded it carefully, flipping it over.

‘ Hi! My name is Lin! ‘

You yelped as if the paper itself had spoken and ran into the living room where your mom was preoccupied with a book. She seemed to notice your panic because her eyes immediately left the pages to study your face.

“They wrote you, didn’t they?” she asked wryly with a twinkle in her eye. You squeaked out a yes, shoving the blue paper towards her. She unfolded it to see the note before chuckling. “Well, are you gonna write them back or not?”

You spent the entire night debating and when your mom came into your room to kiss you goodbye before she left for work she saw you sitting on the floor surrounded in papers. 

“For them or from them?” she asked with an amused smile as she leaned against your doorway.

“For.”

Keep reading

Butterfly Caravan

Sorry for the long post. There we quite a few things said in one session of combat that lasted a few hours.

Some context - Our party has had a long running game, after many deaths our party currently consists of Ederborn (Wood Elf Ranger), Sulenna (Human Wizard - Prone to being downed a lot), Myllandra (Holy Blooded Cleric), Reinhardt (Human Warlock) and The Boson (Rock Gnome Mystic who changes his name on a daily basis and refuses to answer to anything but his name).

Our party has just been hired by a magical being disguised as a fox to investigate a sealed tomb with promise to ‘great reward’ for our services.

We approach the tomb and discover it to be covered in giant butterflies on the outside with a few mechanical guards stationed by the front door. On approach, we discover the butterflies to be moonlight butterflies (think Dark Souls. The exact same thing, but statted for D&D)

We awaken the mechanical golems and very quickly during the fight realise that we are heavily outmatched. Sulenna has already been downed and then revived by the cleric. Ederborn left part way through the combat so in game his character hid amongst the rocks.

Myllandra - OOC - “I’m gonna cast Polymorph on myself and become a young black dragon, fly 30 ft in the air and use my breath attack”

DM - “Erm, okay, let me just roll initiative… the butterflies are attracted to magic.”

Reinhardt - “Well, we’re dead.”

Sulenna - OOC - “I’m gonna cast fireball on the furthest butterfly to hit them both and hit them for 25 fire damage”

DM - “Okay, it’s now the butterflies turn, one attacks you Myllandra and the other attacks you Sulenna as you both used powerful magic”

Sulenna goes down for the 2nd time this combat and at this point Myllandra comes out of polymorph to heal Sulenna again. 

Reinhardt - OOC “Okay, I’ll take 100 for ‘things I never thought I’d say in D&D’ just take care of the butterflies.

Meanwhile the Boson has been shooting shot after shot at the butterflies hoping to kill one. One eventually dies and the other flies behind a 60ft wall surrounding the tomb.

Boson - “Okay guys, I have an idea…”

Reinhardt - “Don’t do it!”

Boson - “You don’t even know what my idea is yet”

Sulenna readies a magic missile - OOC “I know what he’s planning, let’s do this!”

Boson - OOC “I cast phantom caravan and teleport myself and Sulenna 120 ft above the butterfly”

Cue laughter from everyone but Reinhardt.

Reinhardt - OOC “After this Reinhardt is out, you’re all too crazy!”

DM - “Okay you’re now both 170 ft in the air and begin falling 30ft per round.”

Sulenna shoots her bolt and The Boson takes another shot at the butterfly.

Reinhardt - OOC “Falling through the air… Takes shot. who are you F'ing Widow?!?”

Boson - OOC “No, deadshot”

DM - You notice below you as you start to fall, another butterfly is resting on the outside of the wall. It takes a shot at Sulenna. (Sulenna goes back down)

Reinhardt - “Poor Myllandra, he’s been playing hot potato with heals, there’s gonna be an unofficial love story between the two by the end of it.” - OOC “I cast polymorph on myself and turn in to a young bronze dragon, then fly 80 feet in the air”

DM - “What is it with you all and dragons? A butterfly attacks you after the surge of powerful magic” He then fails the constitution saving throw and turns back to human. “You are now falling as well." 

Reinhardt - OOC "It’s okay, when I have to make a death saving throw I automatically resurrect and don’t have to make the throw. So I land in the superhero pose.”

GM - You don’t make the save until your next turn

Sulenna - OOC “So you land like this!" 

External image

Cue more laughter from everyone but Reinhardt.

DM - "So Sulenna has been up and down like a yoyo, Reinhardt is gonna make a nice pancake, Ederborn is hiding in the rocks, Myllandra is running back and forth going mad trying to prevent anyone from dying and the Boson is a human projectile falling rapidly towards a butterfly. Anything else I should add to that list?”

Boson - OOC “I spend 5 Psi points and sprout wings”

Dm - “I’m done! This is some proper dog fighting going on here, this is why DMs don’t use flying!”

anonymous asked:

So, I've wanted to write a book for a while now. I have an idea and a basic plot, but I don't quite know how to start it. Any advice?

Wow… you’re at the Exciting Part. :)  …No, seriously: this is the point from which everything flows, from the novelist’s point of view. It’s an exciting place to be, and at the same time SO intimidating, because GOD can anything happen from here onward.

(I’m assuming that we’re talking about fiction, BTW.)

Anyway. After 50+ books I know what I do at this point – pretty much – but that’s not going to do you a lot of good, since many of the opening moves in the game for me are now accordioned together into something that happens very fast and in which the individual movements and sequences can be kind of difficult to tease out for an observer. Let me instead describe to you how I would work this kind of situation out when I first got started selling books to editors.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

pleeeeease tell me there's a story about nate and aj? ❤️❤️❤️

WELL ANONS (from this fic):

Andrew Joseph Minyard doesn’t know a thing about Nathaniel Wesninski until he’s sent to kill him.

That’s perhaps more unusual than one would suspect, knowing Andrew. His general disinterest is well known, but he has a personal stake in knowing the movers and shakers of the magical families on the East Coast.

Know your enemies, and all that. Andrew didn’t used to have those, until he met Kevin Day and finally picked a side that wasn’t himself and his best interests. Now he kills people for righteousness, or what the fuck ever.

“The Wesninskis have a new leader,” Wymack tells them, hands folded on his desk like this is very serious news. “It’s Nathan’s kid, apparently. He’s cleaned house. Or it might be more accurate to say that he wiped the old circle off of the map entirely.”

Like he always does, Kevin goes pale at the mention of one of those families. Wymack flicks him a glance before continuing, “It’s not immediately clear where he stands on the old family alliances, but it makes sense for us to move now while he’s unsettled.”

Andrew can see where this is going already. “I didn’t realise we were killing off children now.”

Wymack shoots him a level look. “He’s twenty-two. Barely younger than you.”

“Well, I suppose that’s alright then,” Andrew replies agreeably. “When do I leave?”

“Hold on. Didn’t he kill his own father?” Nicky cuts in. “Shouldn’t that require a little more investigation than ‘when do I leave’?”

Dan waves a hand. “He’s a mage. Killer or not, he won’t be able to protect himself against non-magical weapons.”

“Don’t worry Nicky. I don’t like to be too well prepared,” Andrew says. It’s not meant to be soothing.

That’s how he ends up crawling through an upper-storey window of the Wesninski mansion, cursing mages and rusted locks. The house is probably warded - Andrew couldn’t say. To him it’s just like breaking into any other house.

What he does notice is the complete emptiness of the building. While mages don’t often have non-magical defence - and Andrew would be a lot less successful if they invested in some attack dogs, or even burglar alarms - they do generally at least have people. But every room he passes - soundlessly, of course - has its door flung wide open to display its total emptiness.

Every instinct he has is screaming. For a moment, he wonders if Wesninski has cleared out of the house entirely. But, despite the limited information for this trip, Andrew knows Wymack wouldn’t send him on a wild goose chase. The mage is here.

He creeps down the stairs, sticking close to the wall. It’s a broad staircase, gaudy even in the near-darkness. Apparently the elder Wesninski had more money than taste.

The lounge is no more elegant, and still empty of people. Beyond it, though, light falls from the doorway. Andrew creeps towards it, palming one of his knives.

Apparently, all his quiet was wasted. The person through the door is waiting for him - and this, having met Nathan, is definitely his son.

Twenty-two he may be, but Wesninski looks like a kid. With his fair falling into his face as he slouches against the kitchen island, he looks nothing like someone who could have killed Nathan and the entire rest of his circle in one fell swoop. Any tracery of magic in him isn’t detectable to Andrew though - for all he knows, the air could be singing with it.

The only giveaway that this man isn’t as normal as Andrew is the curling tattoo emerging over the collar of his t-shirt. It’s a mage-mark, and it’s large. Even Kevin, the most powerful of the Foxes in terms of sheer strength, doesn’t have one that extends so far across his skin.

“You’re AJ Minyard,” Wesninski says. He looks excited about that. Andrew didn’t realise he was a groupie. It’s the danger of being a contract killer - being known by your signature. Andrew is Andrew, except when he’s AJ and earning his keep in blood.

“Usually, your kind is throwing spells by now,” he replies blandly. Not that it ever helps them.

“That would be a waste of time, though. Wouldn’t it?” Wesninski says. “You’re immune.”

Well then. “You’re smarter than you look,” Andrew informs him. 

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why you’re so successful,” Wesninski shrugs. “I need to send a message to Kevin.”

Wesninski isn’t following the script. Andrew glances at his watch - usually they’d have gotten past the initial failed attempt to blast Andrew off of the face of the earth with magic and moved onto either running - unusual, mages didn’t like to run - or begging. “Do I look like a messenger to you?”

That earns a thin smile. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is that demeaning?”

“If you think I’m here for that, then you’re confused,” Andrew says. 

Wesninski throws his arms wide. “Well, go ahead then. You know I can’t fight you. And it’s not like I can run.”

Fuck’s sake, Andrew didn’t come here for a conversation. Still, though - he throws a glance at Wesninski’s legs. “Too lazy for it?”

“Not exactly. I know you probably don’t care for magical theory, so the short explanation is that right now I can’t leave this house. Hence wanting to speak with Kevin. The best I could do is hide in a closet, and I can’t imagine that would deter you.”

“As sob-stories go, you might want to try ‘but I have children and a wife’,” Andrew advises. 

“As if that would help me.” Wesninski rolls his eyes. “That’s fine. I wasn’t expecting you to help me for free. I’ll give you something you want in exchange.”

Andrew really should have just killed him instead of saying a word. Corpses are so much less trouble. He raises an eyebrow to signal that his patience is wearing thin.

“If you want a chance at getting anywhere near Riko Moriyama, you’ll help me,” Wesninski says.

That’s an interesting offer. “What makes you think I care about that?”

“Do you think it isn’t common knowledge in the upper circles about what happened between him and Kevin?” Wesninski says. “Plus you’ve been working your way through all the high blood families over the last year. I figured a Moriyama must be right up there on your wish list. Particularly that one.”

He isn’t wrong. “I’m not here to make a deal with you.”

“Are you sure about that?” That smile again. It’s really a wonder someone so irritating hasn’t been killed already. “I have access to the Moriyamas now, whether they like it or not. I think you’d like to make use of that. Better move fast, though - you aren’t the only one who wants to kill me.”

Riko would already be dead if he were easier to get to. And Nathaniel now has his father’s seat on the council, even if he killed for it - succession is muddy  and ugly amongst mages at the best of times. He’d hardly be the first to do it that way. 

He’s right. Andrew could use that. Getting into Castle Evermore is difficult, and Nathaniel has a free pass through the front gates. If he could smuggle Andrew inside…if he were willing to do so…

“What’s in it for you?” Andrew asks.

“What, you mean besides you not murdering me tonight and me getting out of this fucking house?” So sardonic. “I don’t like the Moriyamas any more than you do, Wesninski blood or no. I don’t care if I die, as long as Riko goes first.”

It seems their interests all line up. Andrew can deal with Riko at last, and might even get a shot at the other Moriyamas in the process. He smiles a little bit, feeling his face cracking.

“Well, Nathaniel. Looks like you might be useful to me after all.”

Wesninski makes a face. “I go by ‘Nate’.”

“I really don’t care,” Andrew tells him. “I would say ‘wait here’, but I suppose that’s irrelevant, isn’t it? I’ll come to you.”

The with a message or a knife is unspoken but clearly implied. Nathaniel - Nate - smiles thinly.

“Better hurry,” he says. “Offer ends if I’m dead.”

anonymous asked:

So, I'm really curious as to what kind of "Awkward Romantic Crap" Keith did during the first three weeks of dating Lance when they were "boyfriends-who-don't-know-how-to-be-boyfriends" XDD Could you maybe give some examples?

I could, but, really, isn’t stuff like that sometimes best left to the imagination? ;) … Right, who am I kidding? I’m a bit sleepy, so my apologies — I’m gonna just give ya one example of Keith being an awkward turtle of a person :)


Awkward Romantic Crap, The First

Keith adores Lance a stupid amount. He spent several months contemplating (between the denying and the repressing because feelings why?) the many ways he would kiss that loudmouth into silence, give him all the reasons as to why he was wanted and valuable, not allowing him the chance to doubt himself ever again, but now they were boyfriends and Keith … He just couldn’t find the words.

So he tried with this one romantic gesture — he tried to get Lance flowers. 

Lance had no allergies (Keith sacrificed his dignity to ask Hunk), the flowers were normal and totally not flesh-eating (Keith gave up a little more pride to ask Coran for where to get a bouquet), and flowers were a thing couples did (according to Shiro, and by this point Keith sort of wanted to live inside Red and never face the team again).

So the reason why this became Awkward Romantic Crap is because Keith just could not find the right time to give them to Lance. 

There had to be some kind of special boyfriend-sense he was lacking because it never felt right to just suddenly give Lance flowers. And he really didn’t want to do it in front of the others, and his private time with Lance was hard to come by and most of it they spent feeling out their relationship and having some truly humiliating (albeit necessary) talks about boundaries or whatever.

They bouquet stayed in his room for a week, the special space blooms starting to droop. 

Until Lance came into his room, rubbing the back of his neck, sheepishly asking if they could have a date-night on the observation deck couch … And going mute halfway through his question when he saw the flowers.

Silence for a few seconds. Then, “Uh, who’s brought you flowers? Wait, was it that chick with the Elvis hair? Keith, Keith did you bond with another mullet? Are you … Okay, I mean, no, I’m being dumb. You can get flowers from admirers, it’s fine. Just … you could have mentioned it? Do we have to talk about this kind of stuff too? Or am I being, like, possessive if I ask you to tell me? Oh god, am I a controlling boyfriend —”

Keith shut him up with a kiss (maybe this made his heart speed up in the most awesome ways, but that didn’t negate the strategic value for getting a word in when Lance was full-ramble.) And then, trying to keep the blush down and failing, he said quickly, “They’re for you. They were … I got them, a week back, and I just … I couldn’t figure out when to give them to you?”

“A week — were you hiding them whenever we were hanging out in here?”

Keith didn’t answer except to turn even redder.

Lance wasn’t a silly jackass all of the time (though Keith actually found that silly jackass behaviour kind of fun and/or sweet because he was doomed), so he didn’t mock Keith at all — he just smiled and said, “Uh, you can give them to me now, if you want?”

Instantly, Keith reached over to the vase, pulling the flowers out, a few navy blue petals falling as he all but thrust them into Lance’s chest, the stems dripping water. “These are for you.”

“And what’s the occasion?” Lance asked, pink blossoming along his cheeks, down his neck.

“Just … just that I … I’m good with us. Now. And … happy. Because of you. So, thanks. For your existence.”

Lance’s face was doing a thing — Keith couldn’t tell if he was fighting back laughter or tears, but then two arms wrapped around his shoulders, bringing him into a soft yet lingering kiss. Satin petals brushed against Keith’s face as Lance still gripped the bouquet tightly.

When they both pulled away, Lance was grinning and Keith didn’t feel so awkward anymore. 

Except when his boyfriend started speaking again … “Dude, would you have just let my flowers die before you grew a spine and gave them to their rightful owner? For shame, Red, for shame.” He dragged the bouquet into the limited space between them. “Look at my precious babies! Did you change the water? You’re supposed to change the water, Keith, you can’t just —”

Keith crushed the flowers between their chests in order to gain access to that irritating (delicious) mouth. Lance wailed about his flowers even as their lips met again. Keith let Lance go long enough to get the flowers some fresh water, watching him carefully tend to the blooms that were still intact.

And then Keith dragged him in for more kisses — he was always better with actions than words. Except flower-giving, apparently. But Keith had learned that he could do that kind of romantic crap, at least once. Better luck next time — he’d give them to Lance in front of everyone, come hell or high water, damn it.

(And maybe, at some point in the future, Keith finds a few dark blue flowers pressed between the pages of an old Altean book Allura had given Lance for his birthday. 

Keith will blush again, cringe at the memory, and then kiss his boyfriend stupid when he walks through his bedroom door because he truly adores Lance a stupid amount, and Lance always appreciates his awkwardness, sees his efforts as the most sincere gestures of love, and Keith can’t help but see any mockery that did come his way as endearing. 

So doomed.)


I am off to bed, and oh so tired, but hopefully this drabble makes some kind of sense. Hope you found it both awkward and enjoyable! ;D *hugs* Many thanks for asking!

"Don't you dare."

Hey, guys! So this was based on a prompt I saw on Tumblr, I hope you like it! It’s pure fluff :)  


You drop your backpack on the floor with a huff and flop onto Peter’s bed. Your boyfriend’s typing stalks briefly as he hears you, and he swivels around in his chair to look at you. He smiles softly at your defeated, yet still tense body. “Rough day?" 

You groan into the pillow in response, and Peter chuckles again. A couple of seconds later though, his face grows serious. "What happened?” he asks. 

Picking your face up from the pillow, you roll over onto your back so you’re looking up at your boyfriend. “You know that math test I’ve been studying for for days?" 

Peter nods. "Yeah." 

"Failed it.”

His jaw drops. “What?” You nod disappointedly in confirmation. “But-you were so prepared!" 

You snort and roll over onto your side. "Yeah, well Mr. Kaminski decided to be an ass and out stuff we haven’t learned before in it. 

Peter leans back in his chair and crosses his long legs in front of him. He folds his arms across his chest as he waits for you to continue: You wouldn’t be curled up like that unless something worse has happened. After a couple more seconds of silence, you move your hand up close to your face. "My locker got moved,” you mutter. 

Peter blinks in surprise. He thought it was going to be a lot worse than that. “Well that’s not that bad!" 

"It got moved next to Flash." 

"Oh." 

You bury your face further into the nice, Peter-scented pillow. "Yeah. ‘Oh.’" 

Pursing his lips, Peter stands up and crawls onto the bed next to you. "Hey.” When you don’t look up, Peter sets a gentle hand on your cheek. “Hey, look at me." 

Reluctantly, you turn your head to look up at him. His eyes twinkle with mischief, and you frown briefly before realizing what he’s up to. You deadpan. "Don’t you dare." 

He raises his eyebrows. "I’m gonna do it." 

"No!” you squeal. You go to cover your eyes, but Peter catches hold of your wrists before they even get over your chest. “Let me be mad, Peter! Come-" 

Peter flashes you his most endearing smile. 

And, of course, you smile back. You don’t even hesitate. 

Peter laughs triumphantly and throws his hands in the air. You try (and fail) to frown up at him. "Jerk,” you mutter. 

“Aw.” He lays down next to you and pulls you into his arms so the two of you are practically nose-to-nose. “You love it,” he whispers, still smiling cheekily. 

“Do not.” You pout. Peter reaches up and squeezes your nose, and you giggle. He smiles again, and smiling to yourself, you scoot forward so your torsos are pressed together and your head is in the crook of his neck. Peter’s arms tighten around you and he kisses your hair tenderly. 

“I love you,” you whisper. 

He smiles to himself and closes his eyes. “I love you to.”

8

For the bittersamgirlclubTop 5 Challenge: Top 5 Most Heartbreaking Sam Moments. Well, thanks to the BSGC for this cruel and unusual prompt. If you’re interested in my thoughts on these five horrible moments then by all means, read on…

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I like Mary. I think she's awesome. I don't see why she has to be evil.

Oh, boy, okay.

Listen you can like Mary all you want – I loved her too before the fucked up her entire story arc – but her entire arc was building up to be a villain, and a badass one that was going to go down with a fight. 

I’m REALLY not trying to be pedantic here, Nonny, but asks like this force me to pull out receipts, all of which I’m sure you’re not going to read, because who likes to be proved wrong, but I digress. I always end up sounding more harsh than I am when all I want to do is educate you on my perspective and what the narrative is teaching us.

THAT’S Why she’s a villain. When a character kills the title character of a show, they are coded as the bad guy unless they do a redemption arc that actually is a redemption.

Mary had NO redemption arc AT ALL. Even in S4, Mary is STILL manipulating and emotionally abusing Sherlock and John against each other with her fucking creepy-assed DVDs and her belittling of John in T6T. She still runs off to go do her little assassin things and still lied and manipulated everyone. And I know the argument is going to come up, but Mary’s gunshot was NOT a redemption. A redemption arc has the ex-villain doing a good deed and being genuinely sorry for their past actions. Not ONCE Mary has ever apologized for any of the shit she put everyone through. All of it was a plan, especially if she had creepy DVDs made FAIRLY RECENTLY (you can tell because of the hair style) to send out to people. Also:

YOU ARE EVIL IF YOU ACTIVELY OR POSTHUMOUSLY TELL SOMEONE TO GO KILL THEMSELVES.

That and Mary’s entire death scene was RIDICULOUS and completely contradicted EVERY rule that was established in this universe only 2 episodes prior on how characters die.

Nonny, Mary’s character arc is one I have been passionate about for many years, even before I was a Johnlocker, because her character was fascinating to me, and helped me understand the psychology and make sense of events that were happening in my life at the time. Right up until TAB, Mary was being coded as the next Moriarty. For some reason or another, Mofftiss decided to turn her into an “assassin with an heart of gold” and failed spectacularly.

If Mary truly was good, she WOULD HAVE TOLD JOHN FROM THE BEGINNING WHO SHE WAS, OR AT LEAST TOLD SHERLOCK SHE NEEDED HELP. HLV would have not played out as it did. Instead deciding that killing Sherlock was her only option so that she could continue to manipulate John, since she knew he was most malleable when he was grieving Sherlock.

You can read Mary’s character however you want, I could care less… well okay apparently I do because of this reply… But please, seriously consider that what became of her character really made no goddamned sense to the narrative arc the built for her and quite frankly really lazy writing. Just because she is a woman, doesn’t mean that she is nice and sweet and not abusive. Excusing her of her brand of emotional abuse and manipulation is really sexist.

People thought my mother was a nice person, too.

anonymous asked:

Yes, Dee, you really should be working. Bet your horses and their owners miss you when you spend all day on here. Why don't you be a regular fan & stop spreading lies & conspiracy theories about Sam & Cait. Wonder what the uni would think of Professor McD's wife being such an obsessed out of touch with reality fanatic. And it would really be embarrassing for K to know that her mother is considered an Outlander tinhatter. Light shipping with no conspiracy theories spread is the way to go, Dee.

Awww, anon, am I spending too much time on Tumblr for your tastes? Debunking too many of your sacred, but not very well supported opinions? Sorry about that- but what I choose to do with the publicly available information that is available to me is my prerogative, as also is how I spend my free time. That’s the time when I am not working. My tag line is a bit of humour, anon, not to be taken seriously. All the work gets done and then some, anon, never worry about that!
And speaking of publicly available information, I see that you have also availed yourself of some and done some poking about as to me and my family. No problem as far as I am concerned, or my family either. It is, after all, publicly available information and you are quite welcome to it. But you leave me at something of a social disadvantage, anon, in that you presume to address me on a first name basis- but, as you have chosen to remain anonymous-I don’t yet have your name to reciprocate properly with our first name basis communications. Oh, well, I suppose there is nothing for it but to just go on addressing you as “anon” until you see fit to introduce yourself.
But I suppose I should now get down to answering your questions. Since you have troubled yourself to learn so much about me it’s the least I can do to reciprocate your interest!

First, my clients are all quite aware of my blog, and of its direction. In fact we often laugh about the absurdities of social media, and the proclivities of certain of its users to take it upon themselves to tell others how they should think. ( that’s a polite way to say “NSTer, anon)

And then there is my husband, who as you point out, anon, is indeed a professor. He was a little miffed to learn about your interest in him, anon, but only because your research seems to have failed to turn up, and refer to him by, his actual job title. He is actually a Distinguished Professor- which means he holds an endowed chair, anon, which means he is a very important part of his department, he teaches the advanced courses, sits on important committees, oh, and he also has tenure. Which means that it doesn’t really matter to him, or to his uni, what sort of things his wife might choose to do with her spare time. Even if that thing is to be an “obsessed out of touch with reality fanatic” lol! He is also well aware of my blog, and it’s content. In fact we both get a really good laugh together most mornings when he shares with me the latest political news a la Trump and friends, and I fill him in on the latest fandom happenings (that’s also a polite way to say “NSTer happenings, anon)

And then there is my lovely daughter, anon. I am so glad you didn’t leave her out of this as I am always happy to talk about her- that’s what parents love to do! She’s also well aware of my blog, and it’s content as well, anon. In fact she was the one who got me started in Tumblr. She ran a fandom blog in another fandom for several years and is also well aware of ships and shipping- and how the term "tinhatter” is applied to any ship that an individual disagrees with (which is a polite way of saying “NSTer”, anon)

So now that the pleasantries are sorted, anon, let’s get down to your real reason for writing. The conspiracy thing. You advocate “light shipping” for me, but there is no such thing. Not in the dictionary, not in the Urban Dictionary, and not even on Google. It doesn’t exist as a word, or a concept. It is only a “thing” in the minds of certain bloggers. The truth is, anon, you either ship it or you don’t. No heavy or light to it.
And as to any “conspiracies” that is also a thing that comes with the territory in this fandom. The position of both sides requires there to be a “conspiracy” for their position to exist. The Sam Cait ship requires the “official” narrative of Sam and other girls to be a put on. And the Samzie ship requires the whole of the matter between Sam and Cait, as displayed by them their own selves, to be a put on. Either way someone is doing a put on, anon, it’s just a difference of opinion as to who.

When I add it up I get sam and Cait, as do my family and friends. Others get a different answer. So be it. Live and let live, and it is all public information after all. It’s not illegal, or even immoral to form opinions about it. Or to print those opinions or discussions.

And that brings me to your last point, anon. The implication that I am putting my family at risk by looking at publicly available information, and printing my opinions about it. Or that I am doing something wrong that I, or they, would not want known about.
It’s obvious that is not the case. If I was doing wrong, and if you were actually someone with the power to do something about that, then we would be having this communication via letterhead, and not via an anonymous submission to my Tumblr blog.

And maybe you should ask yourself what it is that you are really saying when you resort to threats to try to silence the words what you claim to be nothing more than an “obsessed, out of touch with reality fanatic”. If I was truly just a “tinhatter” shouldn’t it be easy to simply ignore me the same way that everyone ignores the homeless guy who stands on the busy intersection preaching loudly, every day, about the end of he world which according to him is directly upon us?
Instead you take the time out of your life to research my family and compose implicit threats- and no one likes to waste time. That tells me that my words are not meaningless. That tells me that my words are believable- and that they are believable enough to cause a threat to your worldview. And that you had no facts at hand, or even a good argument to make to refute them. No reason to need me silenced otherwise that I can see. There really isn’t a higher compliment

So thanks, anon, for taking the time out of your day so send me such a gracious compliment. My family and I send you our regards. Sorry we can’t thank you personally at this time since you are still anonymous, but perhaps in time you will feel comfortable introducing yourself. Or maybe not, since your choice to remain anonymous rather confirms the view that revealing your true identity would also be a reveal that you are in fact nobody whose opinion actually matters- or you would be using your real name and revealing that your opinion DOES matter after all. But this all is making even my eyes roll, anon, so take care of yourself, anon, whoever you are!
Until then- Cheers!

A Post about a Captured Keith and Lance.

(Hey guys. This has a bit of torture although I don’t personally think it’s too descriptive thought I’d chuck up a warning for it just in case! So er you have been warned?)

Keith cursed quietly as he woke groggily, looking bleary eyed at his surroundings. He faintly remembered being on a mission with… “Lance?!” The Red Paladin called out for the Paladin of Blue worriedly as he realised that the pressure on his wrists were chains and the room was glowing a faint purple. He heard a faint groan from behind him. “What Mullet?” Came the irritated reply as Lance woke slowly, not realising the predicament the two were in. “Lance I think we’re…” He was cut off by the entrance of a Galran General stalking into the room. Immediately the threats came. However to each question asked about Voltron or its Paladins Lance gave a snarky answer whilst Keith spat profanities. Neither gave the Galra the information they wanted. This happened continuously for about 4 minutes before Lance classily insulted the Galra’s mother. The General whirled around, delivering a hard punch to Lance’s cheek, causing the Blue Paladin to groan slightly in pain. Keith, only hearing what was happening behind him, immediately asked if Lance was okay. The other had mumbled a quick “Better than ever!” in response, not wanting to worry Keith. 
Seeing the Red Paladin’s reaction to a punch the General smiled as they realised how they could get one to speak. 

Keep reading

So lemme tell y'all a story:

I was in 10th grade honours English. I loved my teacher - she was super cool, but didn’t take any shit from anyone. During our time with her, she was going through a rough divorce.

Our teacher had developed this system: if we were good, she’d add “time” to our class, with each “time” being worth ten seconds, so we had to work hard. That meaning, she would give us a free period after we’d built up the exact time that a period extended to be. It was an earned privilege, and we always did our best to try and obtain it. Hell, playing puzzle games and reading was way more fun than a test or worksheet!

We were reading Animal Farm, a book my mom had given to me when I was ten bc she knew I loved to read and enjoyed anything that was thought-provoking. I’d read it then, and again later in my parochial middle school. Living in a big city, public schools aren’t well-funded, and I was lucky to have all my close family scrape together cash for a good education. Needless to say, I was rather familiar with the book.

Now back to the system! Our teacher had implemented a rule that every morning (she taught my first period class) we wood stand up and recite the commandments of animalism. We’d all try our hardest to do it perfectly, lest “time” be taken off our class. But one morning, she was… cold.

My classmates who’d recited before me were all told to sit down and stop reciting, because they were “wrong.” Knowing that, I was confused, as was everyone else. Yet, we all kept trying the same thing. She let the first few people finish. Then, she let people get partially through before she’d utter, “wrong” or something of the sort and deduct our hard-earned time.

It finally got to me; it was my turn. I stood up and started, and was immediately shut down by her. I was frustrated, to say the least. I replied after a second and told her that I was, indeed, right. She muttered for me to sit down. I refused, and by now she’d taken off twenty seconds. Everyone groaned, but I continued to disobey. Eventually, my classmates started telling me to just stop and it turned into yelling at me once I’d lost our hard-earned twenty minutes (meaning we had been halfway to a free period) as I continued to argue. Once we were in the negatives, people were literally yelling obscenities at me. They even yelled at her, blaming her divorce and period. Gross behaivour, mind you.

I didn’t stop.

The teacher said that she was going to call security and have me removed. I replied that it was a-okay with me to do so. I promptly walk out of the room and she followed up by telling me to wait in the hallway. I’d intended to walk to the office myself, but obliged figuring it was no matter to me.

I was in the hallway for about a minute before she rushed out and gently grabbed me by the shoulders. I was rightly confused. She gasped, and stammered out that she had never imagined it would happen. Why was she suddenly not being so ruthless? Why was she flabbergasted? Well, apparently what she’d “wanted” was for us to all fail. That it was a lesson, and she’d have given back the “time” she had removed. It was all about “knowing” what was coming, and how fascism meant that the rules could change at any time, without your knowledge and consent, but you could still be punished for it. She told me that she’d called security, and told them if they saw me in the hall during that call, to excuse me. Nobody had done that before. Apparently, throughout her decades of teaching, not one student had done that. They had all caved and sat down eventually.

You can be that person. In something that matters to us all. It’s not fun, but when has fighting for what’s right ever been easy?

Abused Omega Headcanons

-Omegas that have been abused or taken advantage of by Alphas becoming extremely tense and paranoid before and during their heats. Staying safely locked in their homes, curled up in their nest and constantly worrying about a stranger Alpha catching their scent and finding a way in

-Omegas using suppressants and scent blockers to hide their dynamic because they think that being an Omega is what got them stuck with an abusive Alpha to begin with, so they slowly start to become bitter and resentful about their dynamic

-An Omega meeting with an Alpha for the first time since they got out of an abusive relationship and their Beta best friend being extremely protective. Insisting on chaperoning the first date, low-key rubbing their scent on the Omega and practically interrogating the Alpha all through dinner

-An Omega that was abused by an Alpha becoming very skittish around stranger Alphas and avoiding them whenever possible

-An Omega cleaning out their closet and panicking when they catch a hint of their past abuser’s scent, frantically digging until they pull out one of the Alpha’s old shirts, picking it up with shaky hands before rushing out to throw it in the dumpster. Opening up their bedroom windows to try and get every trace of the offending scent away from their room and more importantly, their nest

-An Omega that was abused feeling inexplicably anxious whenever they realize that they are becoming close to someone and therefore opening themselves up to be hurt or controlled again

-An Omega having a nightmare about their past abuser and feeling absolutely terrified of the restrictive arms wrapped around them until they slowly begin to register the calming scent and deep crooning that surrounds them and reminds them that they are free and safe and tucked warmly into bed with their new Alpha who has only ever treated them with love and kindness and they slowly fall back into a peaceful sleep

-An Omega struggling to trust people whose scents are at all similar to that of their past abuser’s

-Omegas that have been abused being extremely careful in their interactions with Alphas because they don’t want to give an Alpha any reason to pursue them or think they want attention from them

-An Omega that was once abused by an Alpha becoming paranoid about not only their own relationships but those of their Omega friends as well. Desperate to prevent anyone else going through what they went through

-An Omega that was once in an abusive relationship but now lives with a kind Alpha and feels terrible because they go through phases in which they feel the need to hide away and avoid the Alpha because they were so used to doing it before, the Alpha being very understanding and assuring the Omega that they will work through it over time

-An Omega being all settled with a book on the couch while their Alpha is on the phone working, the Alpha getting upset about something and their angry pheromones rolling off them in waves and the Omega knows that it isn’t directed at them but that doesn’t stop the stab of terror in their chest or the way they tumble off the couch and race to the nearest closet where they lock themselves in while struggling for air and trying to tune out the distant shouts of the angry Alpha that reminds them just a bit too much of past events…the Alpha finally ending their call and belatedly noticing the potent scent of fear in the air lessened only by the overwhelming stench of their own annoyance and frustration. Panicking slightly as they set off to find their Omega that they know reacts badly to anger because of their abusive past and feeling absolutely horrible when they hear the whimpering and choked sobs coming from behind the locked door. The rest of the night is spent apologising and crooning until they fall asleep on opposite sides of the door…the Alpha spends the next day coddling their Omega and reassuring them that they would never do anything to hurt them even if they get mad about something

-An Alpha platonically scenting their Omega friend when they go out places because the Omega was once abused by an Alpha and is now afraid of even being approached by one

-An Alpha being in love with their Omega best friend but not being able to do much about it because the Omega has been abused by Alphas before and is always very outspoken about how they will never want one now. So the Alpha focuses on being a good friend and providing support and comfort as the Omega works through their past, and eventually the Omega realizes that they’ve never felt a shred of fear when the other is around. The Omega timidly suggesting the idea of a relationship to the Alpha and promptly dissolving into tears as the Alpha sweeps them into a hug and tells them how much they’ve always loved them and sincerely promises to always make the Omega feel safe and protected

-An Omega being afraid of Alphas after getting out of an abusive relationship and begging their older Alpha sibling to go with them when they have to go out somewhere, the Alpha acting all reluctant but agreeing to accompany them…they had been secretly planing to follow their younger Omega sibling anyway, just to be safe…

-An Omega that was once abused by an Alpha and is now absolutely terrified of them, passing a group of them in a store and instantly getting all tense and distressed until another Omega walks up to them and gently leads them away from the now very antsy group of Alphas, all of which are resisting the urge to follow and comfort the distressed Omega