Not To Be One Of Those Gays That Thinks Every Character Is Gay, But I Am One Of Those Gays. And I’m

Informative Ancient Egypt Comics: BROS

Our 1st place contest winner requested a Niankhkhnum and Khnumhotep comic as their prize.

I still want to write the fic where an outsider has all these preconceptions about what the Force is and then goes into a room with a bunch of Jedi who are tearing into each other like bitchy old academics.

“Ooh, look at Master Structuralist over here with his ever-so-deep ‘everything is attachment actually’ reading”

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who calls every new opinion ‘new depths of their relationship with the Force’”

“The Jedi Order is a social construct–”

“Could you stuff the po-mo and pick up a book once in a while? These aren’t new ideas! You are not a pioneer because you asked one question!”

“I think you could all benefit on more reflection on how our rooting in the Force is actually deeply sexual–”

“If I have to hear one more word about lightsabers being penis envy you are going to be one with the Force immediately.”

kids remind me, often, of the things i've taught myself out of.

i have a big dog. he looks like a deer. he is taller than most young children. while we were on a trail the other day, a boy coming our direction saw us and froze. he took a step back and said: "i'm feeling nervous. your - your dog is kind of big."

goblin and i both stopped walking immediately. "he is kind of a big dog," i admitted. "he's called a greyhound. they are gentle but they are pretty tall, which is kind of scary, you're right. their legs are so long because they are made for running fast. i am sorry we scared you. would you like us to stand still while you move past us, or would you feel more safe in your body if we move and you stay still?'

"oh. i didn't know that about - greyhounds. i think i ... i want to stay still," he said. at this point, his adult had caught up to us. "i'm nervous about the dog," he told her, "so i'm - i'm gonna stay still." she didn't argue. she didn't make fun of him. she just smiled at him and at me and held his hand while goblin and i, with as wide of a berth as we could make, crept our way through.

behind us, i heard him exhale a deep breath and kind of laugh - "he was really big, huh? she said it's because greyhounds have to go fast."

"he was big," she said. "i understand why that could have made you a little scared."

"yeah. next time i - next time do you think i could maybe ask to touch him? when - i mean, next time, maybe, if i'm not nervous."

later, going to a work event, in the big city, i stood outside, trembling. my social anxiety as a caught bird in my chest. i took a deep breath and turned to my coworker. she's not even really my friend yet. i told her: "i feel nervous about this. i am not used to meeting new people, ever since covid."

she laughed, but not in a mean way. she said she was nervous too. she reached her hand out and held mine, and we both took another deep breath and walked in like that, interlinked. a few people asked us - together? - and i told the truth: i feel nervous, and she's helping. over and over i watched people relax too, admitting i feel really kind of shy lately actually, thank you for saying that.

the next time i go to an event, and i feel a little scared, i ask right away: wanna hold hands? this feels a little dangerous. i hesitate less. i don't hide it as much. i watch for other people who are also nervous and say - it's kinda hard, huh?

i know, logically, i'm not good at asking for help. but i am also not good at noticing when i need help. i've trained myself out of asking completely, but i've also trained myself to never accept my own fears or excuses. i have trained myself to tamp down every anxiety and just-push-through. i don't know what i'm protecting myself from - just that i never think to admit it to anyone.

but every person on earth occasionally needs comfort. every person on earth occasionally needs connection. many of us were taught independence is the same thing as never needing anything.

each of us should have had an adult who heard - i feel nervous and held our hand and asked us how we could be helped to feel safe. no judgement, and no chiding. many of us did not. many of us were punished for the ways that we seemed "weak".

but here is something: i am an adult now. and i get nervous a lot, actually. and if you are an adult and you are feeling a little nervous - come talk to me. we can hold hands and figure out what will help us feel safe in our bodies. and maybe, next time, if we're brave, we can pet the dog that's passing.

So like here is the thing

Shooting someone in “self defense” for 

 Having a toy

Sleeping

Getting a snack

 Jogging

Being autistic

eating ice cream in their own house

driving a car

breathing

cooperating with police

minding their own fucking business  

Is a huge crock of Premium Grade A BULLSHIT

People of all races should be able to enjoy basic things like sleeping and breathing without having to worry about being attacked and killed by members of law enforcement. Unnecessary use of force and “self defense” killings are to me a lame excuse to physically harm/kill people who are different than you.

And with that said…

ITS BULLSHIT AND VERY RACIST.

“Hey Ben who’s that in the picture with you?”

Codywan content for the soul 🤲

Behind every gay person is an even gayer, more evil person

reblog if you’re gay because of ghosts

I was bored in class

What’s the name!????? As soon as you post it I want to read it!!!!

Hi. I cried writing this snippet so now you have to read it too.

For my Christmas fic, nearly finished!!

“You shouldn’t get his hopes up,” his mother says the moment they’re alone in the kitchen. “What?” Buck asks, confused. Her face wrinkles. “Christopher. You’re getting his hopes up.” “What? How? Huh?” he places the Turkey back on the stove. She sighs, “By pretending to be his parent. One day you’ll have a family of your own and he will get a stepmother. You can’t always stay in his life like this. You shouldn’t act like a parent with him. It’s unfair to him. You are not his parent.” Buck stares at her. He feels blindsided. He knew she’d have her opinions but didn’t expect this. He’s actually speechless. He also feels tears burn into his eyes.

Idk why I cried, normally I'm smiling evily when writing angst.