sherlock holmes deduces you are trans before you've figured it out yourself and refers to you with those pronouns and then when you look confused is like "ah...had you not arrived at that conclusion yet?" and wafts away in his dressing gown to smoke seventeen pipes, leaving you in a gender crisis
Hercule Poirot deduces you are trans by accident because he suspected you of murder and broke into your house and searched your stuff then puts 2 and 2 together when Hastings makes an innocuous observation about your fashion sense or something and he jumps up and cries “mon dieu!!!” before striding over to you kissing you on both cheeks and saying “ah, cher ami, you must live as you choose!” and then running off to confront the real culprit while you stand there in befuddlement
Columbo deduces you're trans from context clues while he's talking to you about the area, immediately uses your preferred pronouns and starts telling you about his cousin, who's also transgender, and how they got this job doing security, and how they told him that a security guard always locks up, and asks you if the guard locked up last night, and isn't it weird the place was open? And you're like, well, someone else must have opened it up. Maybe the guy in charge? He has a spare key. And then he nods and goes "the guy in charge has a spare key... well, how about that?" And then he offers you a cigar and wanders off, and a day later your boss gets arrested for murder.
Fanon Batman deduces you are trans and suddenly a free hormone clinic opens up by your home a couple months later
Miss Fisher learns youre trans and simply gives you hormones, and a little cocaine as a treat. she also invites you out to a club to meet like minded individuals. at the club you watch as she seduces the bartender and then the next day the bartender is arrested for the murder.
DISCO ELYSIUM
IS NOW ON INTERNET ARCHIVE
UPLOADED BY ROBERT KURVITZ HIMSELF
“Nobody’s going to want to sit on high-speed rail for fifteen hours to get from New York City to LA.”
Me. I will sit on high-speed rail for fifteen hours. I’ll sit on it for days. I’ll write and read and nap and eat and then do it all over again. I’ll stare out the windows and see America from ground level and not have to drive. I’ll see the Rockies and the deserts and cornfields and the Mississippi River and your house and yours and yours too. I’ll make up stories in my head about the small towns I see as we go along. I’ll see the states I’ve yet to see because driving or flying there is a fucking slog and expensive to boot. I’ll enjoy the ride as much as the destination. And then I’ll do it all over again to come the fuck home.
Me getting slammed with notifications on this post in particular:
Americans will drive 15 hours, why the hell wouldn't we take a 15 hour train ride.
there's probably a better way of wording the last part but like come on it doesn't matter if we're all the same to fascists
[transcript: Cameron Klein, seated: I’m not going to launch those ships.
Captain’s orders.
Brock Rumlow, draws firearm: Move away from your station.
Klein closes his eyes.
Sharon Carter crosses the room, her weapon raised to aim at Rumlow: Like he said…
Captain’s orders.
Uniformed security teams (presumably Hydra) and jacket-and-button-up office workers all draw weapons in a stand-off.
Rumlow: You picked the wrong side, Agent [Carter].
Carter: Depends on where you’re standing.
/end transcript]
I want to share this analysis of this scene from cakeisnotpie
Because we are seeing that right now with the world situation and the fight against the Orange Fucker and Muskrat. All kinds of people gumming up the works, including people within the government itself, saying “no, I’m not doing that.” and many of them will be fired or removed. But people are digging in their heels for the small moment of mercy it will grant us.
May everyone with the power to resist find the will and courage to do so. Be like Cameron.
Oh.
OH.
I’m crying @comicgeekscomicgeek because I needed to hear this right now. To see my own words, to know that someone read the thought I shouted into the void and remembered. Thank you for being my Sharon Carter and reminding me that I do have a choice.. there’s always a choice.
So, Cap’s orders, I’m not taking my pronouns out of my email signature or pulling Nimona from my class. I can’t change anything, but I can plant myself like a tree, let my students take shelter behind me, and say, “no, you move.”
"im tired of living through major historical events" is now "dear lord please let me witness a high profile political assassination in the next 1-2 years. amen"
beginning to suspect that if I ever want to have a published novel I will have to actually write a novel, which is frankly ghoulish
I know I have a novel in me but it seems to be lodged in like. I don't know. my appendix.
my camel straight up told me "man i am not carrying another fucking straw" like wtf asshole its just one straw whats your fucking issue
went to my best friend’s house last night and saw a little plushie dog and plushie cat that had been sewn together down the middle into a two-headed chimera. I said, “did you do that?” she said, “yes, I saved them.”
turns out at her old job when the last two plushies hadn’t sold and became deadstock, her boss told her to cut them up and throw them out. so she cut them each in half, preserved their heads, and then rebuilt them together.
cannot stop thinking about the way these little plushies were approached with the instinct of a Vampire or some sort of ancient god. “Let me save you [turn you into a monster].”
The fact that the beheading was at the order of a superior, and the solution was to create some sort of monster of disobediance to the letter of the law instead of just lying and saving them adds a certain mythological resonance.
