just got to take a break from the average political bullshit

Stanuary Week 1 - Con

A lot of people went the angst route for this prompt (which is, honestly, an amazing route), but I wasn’t feeling like angst for once.  So, I thought, what would be better than salesman Stan, trying to con some people into buying a vacuum that sucks?


               “Later, sucker!” Stan called out, diving into the Stanleymobile.  The restaurant owner he’d just nabbed a free meal from slammed a fist against the passenger’s seat window.  Stan grimaced at the man’s tomato-red face and bulging eyes.

               Well, not many people dine and dash in Podunk towns like this.  Guess it makes sense that he’s pissed about it.  The man slammed his fist against the window again.  The glass shuddered.  Stan fumbled for the car keys, stuck them in the ignition, and hit the gas.  The Stanleymobile pealed out of the parking lot with a loud screech.  Stan glanced in the rearview mirror and spared a derisive laugh for the restaurant owner, who had fallen down when Stan drove away.  

               “Was that mean?” Stan mumbled to himself, focusing back on the road. “Laughing at that guy?”  He turned onto the highway.  “…Nah, he deserved it.  Calling me a ‘ragamuffin’ and pricing his shitty waffles like the Queen made ‘em.”  Stan scoffed. “Who even calls people ‘ragamuffin’ anymore?”  Red and blue lights appeared in his mirrors.  “Aw, shit.”

               Small-town cops don’t have anything better to do than chase down dine-and-dashers.  Shoulda known better.  Stan looked over his shoulder.  They’re still pretty far away.  Might be able to lose ‘em. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a smallish gravel road.  Perfect.  He turned sharply.  The Stan-Vacs in the back seat slammed against one of the back windows, matching the staccato of the gravel kicked up by the car.  Clearly not a good day for the windows in this baby.  I’m just glad they’re still holding up.

               After roughly ten minutes on the dinky country road, Stan felt confident he’d lost the police.  He sighed and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.  

               Now I just gotta figure out what to do. I’m in Bumfuck, Nowhere, with six bucks to my name and a car full of shitty vacuums.  Stan squinted at the horizon.  A white house was beginning to take shape in the distance.  He grinned.  Good.  Some country bumpkins I can pawn these useless pieces of shit onto. Maybe I can convince ‘em to buy more than one.

               Stan pulled into the gravel driveway.  He sat in the Stanleymobile for a moment to take in his surroundings. It seemed to be an average farm: a mildly sprawling farmhouse, a barn that had seen better days, a huge vegetable garden pushing up against the house’s foundations.  Stan grabbed a Stan-Vac from the backseat and got out of the car.  Cattle lowed somewhere in the distance, chickens clucked and scurried in a nearby coop. He walked over to the porch, up the steps, and knocked politely on the front door.  There was loud barking from inside.  A muffled voice scolded the dog for making noise.  Stan gathered himself, placing his most professional, schmoozing smile on his face as the front door opened.  

               “Howdy there, son,” the man who answered the door said.  He had kind eyes hidden behind glasses, dark hair, and a large, distinctive nose.  Stan brushed away the hypocritical nature of that last observation and focused on what was most important to him.  This stranger had a trusting look.

               He’s not one of the farmers who’s suspicious of “city slickers”.  Just the kinda person I was looking for.  Stan cleared his throat.

               “Hello, sir,” he said.  “I’m here today to offer you a bargain you’d be a fool to turn down.”  The man raised an eyebrow in amusement.

               “Is that so?”

               “Yes.  Because, you see, I’m here to give you a chance to buy the Stan-Vac, the best vacuum cleaner you can find off the black market.”

               “Uh-huh,” the man said.  He held up a finger.  “One moment, please, son.”


               “Hey, Sally, get over here!  We’ve got some young man tryin’ to sell us stuff!” the man called into the house.

               “Is that right?” a woman’s voice called back.  “I’d better come see.”  The man looked back at Stan.  

               “Go ahead, son.”

               Why does he keep calling me “son”? Stan opened his mouth but no words came out.  Shit!  He threw me off!  The man smiled good naturedly.  

               “You can start from the beginnin’, since I interrupted yer prepared speech.”

               “Oh, uh, no- no need,” Stan stammered.  He coughed and began to talk in his salesman voice again.  “As I was saying, this vacuum utilizes technology the government doesn’t want you to know about.  I’m not supposed to say, but you seem trustworthy, so…”  Stan leaned in conspiratorially.  “Our engineers designed this using blueprints smuggled outta Area 51.”  The man laughed.

               “Them’s some mighty bold claims, young man.  What’s yer name?”

               “Stan.  Stan Forrest.”

               “A strong name,” a woman said, joining her husband at the door.  She smiled sweetly at Stan.  “Go ahead, Mr. Forrest.  Keep tellin’ that tale.”

               “There’s not much else to say,” Stan said, struggling to keep up his faux cheerful tone.  

               This isn’t how my sales pitches usually go!  People either slam the door in my face or buy ten things from me.  They don’t laugh at my bullshit stories and call their spouse to the door.  

               “That’s a pity,” the wife said.  “I only just got here.”

               “Well, there is one last thing,” Stan said, abruptly remembering how his speech ended.  “Within the first use of the Stan-Vac, you’ll know why people call Stan-Co brand you can trust.  And why Stan-Vac is known as the vacuum that sucks more than anything.”  Stan plastered a false, toothy grin on his face. The wife and husband laughed.

               “You need to work on that there slogan of yours,” the husband said, shaking his head.  “How long have ya been sellin’ these machines?”

               “I’m not at liberty to-”

               “I’d say ‘bout a week,” the wife interrupted, casting a careful eye over Stan. Stan looked down nervously. “Oh!  I was right.”

               “It makes sense then, that ya messed up,” the husband said kindly.  He patted Stan on the shoulder.  “Ya haven’t had much practice, and Sally and I ‘re pretty good at rattlin’ travelin’ salesmen.  Well, the ones what bother to come to our door.”

               “How old are ya, Stan?” the wife asked.  Stan stared at her silently.  She tutted in disapproval.  “Never mind, yer clearly ‘bout as old as our younger sons.  And yer just skin and bones!”


               “Come on in, son, have a bite to eat and somethin’ to drink.  Ya clearly need it,” the husband said.  Stan took a step back.

               “Thanks, but, uh, I’d better- better get going,” Stan stammered, looking back at the Stanleymobile, considering making a break for it.  The husband stepped onto the porch and put an arm around Stan’s shoulders, ushering him inside.

               “Now, now, we insist.”

               Fuck!  What the hell is with these weirdos?  And I left my brass knuckles in the car.  Rookie move, Stan.

               “I really-” Stan protested.

               “Just a quick meal, son,” the husband said.  “Folks what come to the McGucket house never leave hungry.”  Stan’s stomach rumbled.

               Those tiny, shitty waffles weren’t very filling.  But then again, who knows what these peoples’ motives are?  As the husband nudged Stan across the threshold, air filled with savory aromas greeted him.  His stomach growled in earnest.  …What the fuck am I doing, turning down a free meal?

               “Fine, one meal, then I have to get going,” Stan conceded.

               “That’s more like it!” the husband enthused, patting Stan on the back. “Come on, son, let’s get some food in ya.”

inner-muse  asked:

Hello! I just read your meta about Harry Potter and pro-Templar arguments in Dragon Age and I thought it was really interesting. One thing that wasn't addressed, though, was demons and the possibility of possession. Obviously this still doesn't justify the abuse and corruption that run rampant in Circles, at all. But it's a key difference between magic in Harry Potter and magic in Thedas. A wizard might lose control of their magic and set the barn on fire; a mage might lose their free will (1/2)

(2/2) to a literal incarnation of sin and darkness, which would then proceed to set the barn on fire, and also the house, and then slaughter the entire village just for fun. I’m not condoning the way mages are treated at all – obviously locking them up and abusing them is NOT how you prevent abominations – but it seems to me that the parallel breaks down a little with that extra wrinkle.

Hi. :)

Okay but, for a start, analogies are never quite perfect. If they were, they wouldn’t be an analogy. They’d be the same thing. I did point out in that post that the two magical systems don’t align perfectly. I also referenced other magical-type stories, because the point wasn’t Harry Potter per se.

I talked about the Harry Potter books largely because they are familiar. It’s this big, popular series that most people will at least recognise. Many people will have read the books and seen the films; many will have written fic or meta, or drawn fanart for it; many have attachments to particular characters.

Many people will know that ‘getting your Hogwarts letter’ is a not-uncommon fantasy for someone working their way through the series. Because this is a series about children going to boarding school, it puts faces to parts of the horrors of the Circle system that are not substantially addressed by the Dragon Age games.

It’s not that your actual mage companions have not suffered in the Circle: they have. But they are, obviously, survivors of the system. They’re the people who have either found a way to live within Chantry rules (Wynne and Vivienne) or who have escaped entirely (Finn and Anders). The people who didn’t make it, the dead and the Tranquil, are only seen in glimpses – characters with thin backstories, the occasional Codex entry, a body in a corner. Child mages are only rarely seen, and never for long. You can infer what they suffer, but you don’t see it.

Now imagine eleven-year-old Hermione Granger, torn from her parent’s arms by force and flung into a cell; told her gifts are a sin and warned by her fellow mages to be less bright and good at magic because that’s one of the things that gets you killed. Imagine Neville Longbottom made Tranquil because people mistook his lack of self-confidence for weakness and no one cared to find out how strong and smart he was.

It’s one thing to justify atrocities committed against ‘mages’. It’s another thing entirely to have little Ron Weasley, whose face you can probably see in your mind’s eye, flogged for impertinence.

My point was that, if these images fill you with horror, it’s because you know better.

Thedas is a dystopian shithole of a place. I mean – it’s got lovely scenery and cool swishy coats and longbows, but socially it’s the fucking worst. Literacy rates seem to be low, there’s no indication that they have anything resembling a free press, both the Chantry and the Qunari practise forced conversion and if you dig around in the Codex entries a bit you find out that there are probably more dodgy cover ups in their history than there are legitimately researched historical events.

Your average Thedosian is probably relying on things said to them by Chantry officials for information. Most never meet mages, and many will even lose contact with their own children once their magic manifests. Consequently, a lot of characters will talk about Circles and Templars as though they are necessary. A lot of Codex entries, written by either Chantry people or people raised with a Chantry education, will talk about them as though they are necessary. They will do it with conviction, because they believe it. They can see all the problems and they’ve been told there’s only one solution. Lacking education, experience, exposure to magic, or the time to sit down and work through the problem they honestly can’t see another way. It can be really hard to see past cultural blinders.

But we aren’t Thedosians. If you’ve read Harry Potter then you have another system for teaching magical kids how to control their powers in your head right now. If you’re a fantasy fan in general you probably have dozens. It doesn’t have to be Harry Potter. In fact, it shouldn’t literally be Harry Potter, both because that world has its own problems and because, no, the magical systems don’t align perfectly and wingardium leviosa won’t mean much to a Thedosian mage. But you’ve got the building blocks for something better in your head already.

When someone says Templars and Circles are necessary, I don’t just doubt their compassion; I doubt their imagination.

It’s not like this is my radical reinterpretation of the text, either. ‘This is bullshit’ is written all over the games. Only the Chantry and the Qunari treat their mages as though they’re murderous monsters that need to be tightly controlled lest they go on a rampage. The Dalish, Chasind and Avvar have quite different ways of looking at magic.

Even many Chantry lands retain traditional magical practices that are wildly different from the ‘Circle’ norm. Tevinter is a Chantry land, but magic is of deep cultural importance there – so important that they broke away from the Orlesian Chantry because neither nation could accept the other’s view of magic. And while Tevinter is rife with social ills, it has not fallen to demons. Rivain maintains its seers, and seems to be ignoring the Chantry as much as it is able. Nevarra has its Mortalitasi – who summon spirits and wield political power. Note that Cassandra, who has otherwise believed in the Chantry and its Circles, is completely unsurprised by the fact that her mage uncle was allowed to raise her because he is a Mortalitasi; meanwhile, bog-standard Circle mage Wynne isn’t allowed to keep her own son.

It’s threaded through all the stories: these things are done for political reasons, not out of necessity. They are a means of keeping powerful people in their comfy cushioned chairs, and of making sure that the very particular cultural beliefs of Orlais remain dominant. But because the stories primarily take place in Chantry lands, it’s something you have to look for.

The thing is – if you’re opposed to the Circles you’ve already got that. You already know. But to illustrate what I mean – look at what you wrote. Look at the words you chose. ‘Abominations’; ‘a literal incarnation of sin and darkness’. Why did you use those words? Those are Chantry words. They are words that were made up to justify abuse and slaughter.

An ‘abomination’ is any possessed mage. Take a look at the text from this war table mission:

Sigrid Guldsdotten is a very, shall we say, interesting choice of recruit, Inquisitor. Commander Cullen has had a great deal to say on the matter. Still, we’ve had interest from scholars and mages beside themselves at the chance to speak with a “stable” abomination. (Especially since the Chantry is too weak to forbid it with any force.) I believe that Guldsdotten, with a guide and some guards for her own protection, would be a valuable guest to send to select lectures and salons.
Ambassador Montilyet

You cannot be serious.

Commander Cullen

Say the word, Inquisitor, and I will send our new Avvar mage on a brisk tour of cultural exchange.

This is madness. If you must, have this Avvar abomination meet with our own scholars. In a small room. Far from anything. With a templar present.

– A Cultured Exchange

Note that Cullen, Chantry educated Templar, is particularly forceful on this point: she is an abomination, she is dangerous, and he is expecting that it will be ‘necessary’ to have a Templar murder her. In fact, there’s nothing abominable about Sigrid at all. Avvar mages are possessed by spirits as part of their apprenticeship. It’s even normal for them to stay possessed if they fail that apprenticeship because the Avvar consider ‘possessed by a benevolent spirit’ to be the safest state for a mage of limited ability. Sigrid is different only because she didn’t fail: she just loves her spirit friend and wants it to stay.

If you follow through on Josie’s suggestion, it turns out that Sigrid is pure, unadulterated awesome and even impresses the hell out of the ultimate magical snob – a Tevinter magister.

Now of course I appreciate that some mages are possessed by hostile spirits. That’s horrible for everyone involved. But even then – look at the word. ‘Abomination’ is a licence to kill, even though we know it is possible to rescue possessed mages from their demons. Cullen wants a Templar present to kill her, not save her.

Sin and darkness – sin particularly. That’s a Chantry story. An idea of spirits as the Maker’s first children. As rebellious children who are attacking living beings because the Maker loves the living better:

As the spirits grew in power, however, some of them became contemptuous of the living. These were the spirits that saw the darkest parts of the dreamers. Their lands were places of torment and horror, and they knew that the living were strongly drawn to places that mirrored those dark parts of themselves. These spirits questioned the Maker’s wisdom and proclaimed the living inferior. They learned from the darkness they saw and became the first demons.

Rage, hunger, sloth, desire, pride: These are the dark parts of the soul that give demons their power, the hooks they use to claw their way into the world of the living. It was demons that whispered into the minds of men, convincing them to turn from the Maker and worship false gods. They seek to possess all life as their due, forging kingdoms of nightmare in the Fade in the hopes of one day storming the walls of heaven itself.

– The Maker’s First Children

All right. But do we have any serious reason to believe that this is true? Justice has no story about the Maker or hating mortals:

Anders: I apologize, Justice. I didn’t mean to suggest you would become a demon.
Justice: I should certainly hope not.
Anders: I just wondered what relation there is between spirits and demons. Demons are a worry to any mage.
Justice: I do not know what makes demons as they are. Such evil angers me, but I do not understand it.
Anders: Well, I hope you never come to understand.
Justice: I as well, mage. More than you could possibly know

Justice Dialogue

He just doesn’t know what happens to the spirits who become demons. To him it’s like a plague: some people catch it and some don’t. He worries that he might catch it, at least in part because he doesn’t completely understand how to avoid it. Or look at this, between Cole and Solas:

Cole: Is there a way to save more spirits, Solas?
Solas: Not until the Veil is healed. The rifts draw spirits through, and the shock makes demons of them.
Cole: Pushing through makes you be yourself. You can hold onto the you.
Cole: Being pulled through means you don’t have enough you. You become what batters you, bruises your being.
Solas: Yes, exactly. Deliberately crossing the Veil requires that a spirit form will, personality.
Solas: That concept of self gives a spirit the chance to maintain its nature.
Solas: Wrenched into this world unwillingly by the rifts, spirits suffer the same fate as my friend.
Cole: Then we will help them.

Cole Dialogue

Demons aren’t incarnations of sin and darkness. They’re people in pain. Why it happens is going to vary from spirit to spirit – Solas’s friend was quite literally enslaved, and if that’s not a good reason to go on a rampage I don’t know what is – but it’s worth remembering that whenever you see a demon you’re looking at someone who is screaming. That scream isn’t all they are, but it’s all they can be right now.

Look, obviously I’ve played the games too. So I’ve killed a lot of ‘demons’ and ‘abominations’. I’m not wagging my finger at people for playing. It makes sense, because even as the Warden/Hawke/Inquisitor you are a person with limited access to knowledge and finite abilities. It’s an RPG. You play like you live in the world.

But as players, we are outside the world. We get all the histories, all the dialogue, the supplementary materials from books and comics and films (if we want them :) ). Had Thedas not spent the last 800 or so years coming up with reasons why it was okay to slaughter possessed mages or demons on sight rather than working out what the fuck is going on with them, maybe we wouldn’t have to kill so damn many of them.

If a thing is said often enough, and with enough belief behind it, it can sound true. But that doesn’t mean that it is true.

We play games that are set primarily in Chantry-ruled lands. They have language to justify every horrible thing they do. When we play these games we are immersed in that language. When we read Harry Potter we are immersed in their language: Muggles and wizards and purebloods and ‘Mudbloods’ and all the shit that goes with that. But just because the characters say it a lot doesn’t mean we should think as they do.

If you’ve read Harry Potter, you can think up a better system to teach mages than the Circles. And it troubles me when people defend an abusive system when the only ‘evidence’ we have of it actually working comes from heavily biased in-universe sources.

anonymous asked:

Hi! Can I request a delinquent Youngjae and a strait-laced Jaebum please? Fluff 2jae pleaseeee!!! *coco's eyes*

Warnings: some swearing, tiny bit of smoking, mention of violence (but there’s no actual violence)

Author: miranda

Word Count: 4.8k words

A/N: its me. i havent filled a prompt in so long but high school is over and i have graduated and im going to vomit out fics all summer until uni starts so prepare yourselves.

about this fill… well anon i know you said fluff but its kinda more angsty??? until the end. the end is fluffy. 

Keep reading

truscummer  asked:

One of my biggest concerns with tucutes is that they are perpetuating this notion that one can CHOOSE to be trans. I had to wait five years before I could take hormones because my guardian thought I was CHOOSING to be trans because "gender bending" was trendy. Our community has such a hard time trying to convince the cis public that we are born this way and don't deserve prejudice and rejection for something we had no say in (and because no one deserves that): tucutes aren't helping.

This is long, very long, so I tried using good paragraph breaks. I’m sorry to those who have difficulty with long posts. I’m verbose, and it’s a failing, but I desperately want to be understood, so I will discuss things from different angles to try to get through. Please bear with me. (If you’re on desktop and want to skip this post, press J and you’ll move right past. If you’re on mobile, I’m sorry)

First of all, regarding your guardian, no matter what they say, they didn’t get the idea that you were faking or choosing from trans kids on the internet. 

I promise you that the cis people who are giving you (and the rest of us) shit about your identity didn’t “learn” that trans people are not real, or are faking, or are making choices or are confused from tumblr. They got it from the same places they’ve been getting it for decades - our transphobic culture and media, other cis people and their own ignorance.

Your average, run-of-the-mill cis person doesn’t see any difference between trans person A, who calls himself “truscum,” and trans person B, who calls herself “tucute,” and trans person C, who calls themself “too old for this bullshit.”

I don’t want to speak for tucutes (because I’m not one), but I’ve never seen one say that they chose to be trans. What I’ve invariably seen is someone who identifies as tucute identify themselves to others as trans, state that they don’t experience dysphoria, or they don’t call what they experience dysphoria. And then they are yelled at by self-identified truscum for “choosing to be” trans and/or stating that transness is a choice, when, in reality, it usually boils down to a misunderstanding around “identification.”

Identity and Identification

‘When a person says “I identify as a woman,” they are saying “I recognize my culture’s defintion of ‘woman’ as being an accurate descriptor of an aspect of my sense of self as a distinct person with all my myriad characteristics.” If that person was assigned male at birth, then she might also identify herself as trans, because in her culture, trans means “having a gender other than that which is culturally associated to a particular sex at birth.” 

Likewise, she might say “I identify as a lesbian” because in her society, a woman who loves other women is called a lesbian. Or, better yet, “I identify as a queer woman, because, while I tend to be most often attracted to other women, I don’t feel that lesbian is a complete description of myself and my sexual orientation within the bounds of my culture and language.” 

But often, identity and identify are used by truscum as interchangeable with choice. They are not. You can identify yourself as Bob, for example, because you chose the name Bob, for whatever reason suits you. 

That is a choice you made - one that most people don’t get to make because someone else made that choice for them. So you chose the name/identity of Bob and over time, as people come to know you as Bob, those three letters in that order with that pronunciation will become a signifier, a bucket of traits, of who you are as a person in their minds. You chose the name Bob, but you didn’t choose to be All-of-the-physical-metaphysical-and-psychological-characteristics-I-attribute-to-the-person-known-to-many-people-as-Bob. Your identity is separate from the labels you identify as being accurate-ish descriptors of that identity.

They aren’t saying “I chose to be trans.” They are saying “I am trans, but differently than you are, because I am a whole separate person from you and my experiences are different.” Then people are yelling at them for not being trans or not being trans enough or not being trans correctly.

Trans as Choice vs. Born this way

Here’s the thing about choice, though. I don’t care if someone chooses to be trans - just because I haven’t met one yet doesn’t mean they aren’t out there. They should still be protected. They will still face the same transphobia, oppression and discrimination as a trans person who didn’t choose to be trans. Likewise, I don’t care if someone chooses to be gay. They should still be protected. A political lesbian (a woman who actively chose to love other women as a rejection of the patriarchy, instead out of innate attraction) will still face the same homophobia, lesbophobia, oppression and discrimination as a lesbian woman who did not choose to be a lesbian.

I have no interest in convincing cis people that we’re born this way. You see, if you insist to cis people or straight people that the only reason we deserve protections is because we can’t help but be who we are, it turns us into victims, and turns our lives into tragedy, it turns our transness into a pathology - “I’d be normal just like you if only I weren’t cursed with this unavoidable affliction of transness!” It doesn’t inspire them to protect us. It inspires them to fix us or cure us. And once they are satisfied that they’ve found a cure, even though no such cure exists, they’ll remove any protections we had and ignore us when they aren’t stomping on us. And I’m not here for that. 

The reason homosexuality was finally removed from the DSM was because they finally realized that they’d spent decades trying to fix people who weren’t broken - and doing more damage as a result. And I don’t believe that it was removed because they realized gay people were born that way. I am pretty sure they removed it because they realized that being gay wasn’t a dysfunction.

They had been assuming that gay people were just straight people with the illness of same-sex attraction. They finally realized that there was no illness to cure - it was the stigma and hatred from an ignorant society which was broken, and which was causing the distress and dysfunction. 

Likewise with transness. It’s a feature of humanity in all cultures. We’re not broken - our society is. The stigma, fear and hate that permeates our transphobic and ciscentric culture is what makes us think we’re broken and fills us with shame for not being normal. It’s a contributing factor to the impairment of function which is a necessary component of a Gender Dysphoria diagnosis

Transness without Dysphoria

As pockets of society improve in their understanding of transness, it becomes possible for people to recognize themselves as trans while not experiencing dysphoria or experiencing it differently. This is a good thing. 

There just are not externally determinable bright-line divisions between any two identity terms. Only an individual can actually evaluate the accuracy of trans or cis as it applies to themself. A therapist or psychologist can diagnose them with gender dysphoria, surem but they can’t diagnose them as trans, especially if their non-assigned gender identity is not causing them significant impairment - literally a requirement of the definition of dysphoria. 

Let me give you an example of that. I tell you that I am feeling dizzy. I’m not showing outward signs of it, but I know that I can recognized dizziness in myself. You can’t tell me that I’m not dizzy and justify that with “you’re not falling down, so you can’t be dizzy.” No, I’m not impaired by this dizziness, but I know I’m dizzy, so I have to take steps to address that dizziness or take it into account when living my life, regardless of whether or not I’m falling down.

Likewise, someone tells you that they are trans, they recognize themselves as trans, but their life is not significantly impaired by the dissonance between their knowledge of themselves as trans and society’s assumption that they are cis. You can’t tell them they aren’t trans. Suffering is not a pre-requisite to transness. Self-knowledge is. It’s not externally quantifiable, especially by teenagers on the internet.

I want to share with you a quote I really like from tumblr user bramblepatch​:

“Welcoming people [into the trans community] who otherwise might have been able to get by in a cis identity weakens the ideology of cisness, not the ideology of transness.

It’s saying, “we can do things for these people that you cannot because of your narrow ideas of gender.” It’s saying, “these are our people to cherish, not your people to shame.” - Source

And here we are, fighting amongst ourselves about who the real trans people are. We are ALL real trans people, in all our glorious diversity. Leelah challenged us to fix society, so let’s stop trying to fix each other, ok? 

So yeah, I don’t care if or why someone chooses to call themselves trans. We live in a culture that (supposedly) values individuality and choice. If we insist that our rights and protections are deserved based on our actual rights as human beings, they can’t take those away from us. If we instead insist that we deserve protections only so long as we can somehow justify our transness, they can, and will, take them away, because we’ve already put them in the position of granting them. They aren’t their rights and protections to give. They are ours to keep.

"Cuffed" - Kurt/Blaine

awklaine, gingerbeebee, and a whole bunch of y'all asked for a sequel to “Throw Away The Key”, and this is my favorite trope, so here’s part 2 of what’s probably becoming a verse

Immediately following the jeans incident, skank!Kurt and Cheerio!Blaine go on their first date.

UPDATE: It’s now a verse!
Part 2 of the Cuffed Verse

1750 words


Kurt is in trouble.

He sits in the front seat of his Navigator, heart racing away from him—racing towards Blaine, if he’s honest—and pushes his gray hood backwards and forwards so that it sits just so behind his upswept pink locks. He runs his hands over his thighs, feeling the soft gray fabric of Blaine’s sweatpants, then lifts his foot onto the seat so he can press his nose to his knee. Kurt smells like Blaine’s fabric softener, plus his own cologne and cigarettes, and the clean-spicy-smoky mix sets Kurt’s nerves on fire.

He’d spent about twenty minutes telling himself to stop freaking out before he realized that not freaking out was not an option. The adrenaline from wriggling out of his skintight jeans in front of Blaine, then running, pants-less, to Blaine’s locker for his spare pair of sweats has worn off, and now that Kurt’s coming down, he doesn’t feel very much in control.

That’s scary. No one does that to him. That’s another reason Blaine—no, Anderson, Anderson is safer – needs to be dealt with.

Keep reading

Only lies have detail: what if Sherlock didn’t really need an ambulance after the Baker Street confrontation?

There’s always been something, ‘off’, about Sherlock in the altercation with Mary at Baker Street.  Between his flat-out lying about what happened at Magnussen’s and the strange face he makes at John when he insists that they can trust Mary, there’s always been something there that John is possibly supposed to read between the lines.  Certainly something the audience is supposed to see is off.

As we can remember MHR was mostly a piece about seeing how destroyed John still is about Sherlock’s death.  But, we get this juice tidbit from Sherlock, seemingly a throwaway line: ‘only lies have detail’.  He’s chosen his lie to be as vague as, ‘I’ve got a thing’, and insists that anything else may seem like he’s trying too hard and give away his fib.  Maybe Sherlock is being overly complicated here to lie to John but so that he can see through the lie, as well.  So he can understand to go along but that it’s not really true.  Either way, if he believes the lie, he’s safe, for now, if he sees through it and knows to play along, he’s safe for now, too.

Now, we know that Mary thinks that John can’t tell when Sherlock’s lying.  I’m not sure if this is always true but let’s say that Mary is more astute at seeing under the surface than John when it comes to Sherlock.  Maybe the fact that Mary is convinced that John can’t read Sherlock protects John from Mary knowing that he can see through these lies.

Sherlock is lying his ass off at Baker Street I think, greatly in part, to keep John safe from his own temper.  To prevent provoking a hardened agent who probably sooner shoot them both and leave than have a conversation, he has to pretend to be on her side.  It’s pure politics and I think Mary can see through this and is just staying to see what he’s going to say next.  John, on the other hand, may be buying it or he may be reading between the lines, it isn’t clear to me.

Now, Sherlock does look tired and pale in this scene, granted but I’ve always wondered about the level of detail in his ambulance story.  Let’s think of it this way: Sherlock has just plastered the atmosphere with the avalanche of bullshit that is, ‘she saved my life, we can trust her’, and now what?  Now a fast, dramatic exit strategy closes this absurd conversation and ends this confrontation.  This immediately stops any questioning from John and breaks up this meeting so that John and Mary may part ways and John can be safe from her, at least from highly volatile moment.  He wants to do this fast not because he’s on the verge of collapse but because it’s a situation that cannot afford to go on.  It’s just barely working and must be put to an immediate end.  He says that this conversation needs to end quickly twice, once at Leinster Gardens and once when he first comes into Baker Street.  

He says that Mary called the ambulance and that it wasn’t John’s call that saved him, I doubt this is true.  Here’s a great post that I think shows that Magnussen called, not Mary.  In his flashback she’s wearing gloves while using a touchscreen so it doesn’t even look like she could’ve called, even in his own story.  This lie leads right into his statement about the ambulance that’s just arrived. 

‘The average arrival time for a London ambulance is…  eight minutes.  Did you bring any morphine, I asked on the phone’.

‘We were told there was a shooting.’

‘There was, last week.  But, I believe I’m bleeding internally (takes his own pulse).  My pulse is very erratic.  You might need to restart my heart (collapses)’.

Now, he uses this very emotionally stressful moment to drive home his lie, here he recaps his position while John is freaking out, a good way to cement this in his mind.  A man on the verge of collapse wouldn’t lie about something like this, would he?

As we will see later in the Magnussen, ‘canteen’, scene Sherlock may have a, ‘problem’, with morphine.  CAM observes his behaviour and makes the mental not that morphine is a possible pressure point for Sherlock.  The first thing that Sherlock asks as the paramedics come into Baker Street is?  Do they have any morphine?  If Sherlock were trying to appear ill and afflicted during the Baker Street confrontation he could have skipped the dose of morphine he was supposed to have had.  This would create the symptoms required to pull off this lie: pallor, shakiness, pain, etc.

Now, I’m not saying that I believe that Sherlock is lying here, only that some of his behaviour reminded me of his line in MHR.  The amount of detail in his set-up about ambulances.  The fact that his explanation begins in a lie about Mary.  The amount of detail given to the paramedics.  And how convenient this is as a way to bookend this conversation.  

Realistically, we don’t know if Sherlock’s pulse really was erratic or if his collapse was genuine.  We know that he looks ill and shaky and really wants morphine for sure.  We also know that his, ‘you may need to restart my heart’, line, as he collapses and his voice wobbles is a very dramatic moment.  We also have Mary’s attitude as he collapses.  We can easily chalk up her seeming indifference to the fact hat she doesn’t care but also, maybe she sees through this part of the ruse, as well.  

Note here that she doesn’t look worried and is also watching John to see his reaction: ‘is he buying this?  He never could tell when Sherlock was lying’,

This act of drama may well be Sherlock’s last attempt at getting John to believe him.  Sometimes, if you can sell a big lie then the smaller lies sort of sell themselves.  Emotionally, this incident may sort of trauma-bond John to his other lies, as well.  

We have seen Sherlock acting in front of John to get what he wants in TBB, TGG, ASiB, THoB, TRF and TEH.  In TEH specifically his lie is to manipulate an emotional response in John.  He engineers a moment of drama that will allow John to consider his apology.  Maybe, here, too, he’s engineering this moment of high emotional intensity to sell John on this necessary lie that will protect him from Mary by having her think that John believes it and from himself, to keep him from confronting the most dangerous person they’ve ever dealt with.  Remember Mycroft’s comment about, ‘the bravery of the soldier’, in ASiP?  He also called it, ‘stupidity’, and while Sherlock doesn’t think John is stupid, he knows that as a man of action he may act hastily and have this situation with Mary escalate.

Thanks to @monikakrasnorada for reminding me of this with the post about Sherlock’s line, ‘I planted the information for you to find’.  <3