While I Get And Agree With The Fact That Gay People Should Probably Play Gay People And Gay Stories Are

while i get and agree with the fact that gay people should probably play gay people and gay stories are best written by gay people, the fervor to prove that “straight people shouldn’t play gay characters!!” is what the interviewer used to forcibly out lee pace so like

idk maybe slow your roll and realize that like… actors can be closeted, content creators can be closeted, and tbh this “you can only write your own experiences, never write someone else’s” rhetoric is also a bigot’s fucking wet dream?? like the perfect excuse to never write diverse characters?? and to say that they have nothing in common with people who don’t look/love/exist the same way as them??

yeah, the author of simon vs the homo sapien’s agenda is a cis straight woman, which means love, simon (though directed by a married gay man with multiple gay characters played by gay/bi actors) is based on a novel written by a straight woman… but this straight woman literally ends her book acknowledging the LGBT teens who helped her write the book and make sure she was writing it appropriately.

this is the content we want

listen… EVERY SINGLE piece of media EVER involves some level of writing about experiences that are not your own, especially if it’s diverse. even bland stories just about white people involves an author writing about genders that are not their own. if you want a story with characters of color, white authors are going to have to write about those perspectives. if you want gay characters in every story, straight authors are gonna have to write about those perspectives. even LGBT narratives might involve gay authors writing about bi characters or cis authors writing about trans characters.

what we HOPE FOR when they do that is that they talk to people… actually belonging to those groups to learn what is and isn’t appropriate and true to life. which is what the author of simon vs the homo sapien’s agenda did.

it’s exactly what she did. she literally worked in a support group for LGBT and GNC kids, saw they did not have cute love stories written for them after they told her this, and then worked with them to give them the love story they craved.

this is a good thing. this is progress for lgbt people. this is the path we need to walk towards getting LGBT content created by LGBT authors.

when you attempt to take the ~moral ground on protesting this film, all you’re doing is telling people who fund these projects that gay products don’t sell. they don’t get the nuance of what you’re going for. and, chances are, you’re looking like a fucking hypocrite, because i can promise you most of the canon gay characters you stan profit a cishet somehow (if they’re even canon).

so, y’unno, as someone who has read simon vs the homo sapien’s agenda AND seen the fucking movie let me tell you!! it’s fine!! it’s diverse beyond having gay character, it’s written respectively, and it hit home on a lot of experiences i WISH i had as a gay teen. it’s corny, it’s silly, and it’s all i ever would have wanted at 13, 14, 15

if you don’t want to see it, just fucking say so! but don’t act like you’re doing it on moral grounds. you can just… not like a movie or not want to see it without it being some moral victory.

More Posts from Rora-s and Others

4 years ago

Dirt on My Face Chapter 2: Unbelievable

Chapter 1

I was woken by the cold shock of snow being tossed in my face. I spluttered and sat up in the crook of Malic’s branches. “Malic!” I whined “what was that for?”

The tree laughed with a shake, his branches clattering with each other. One branch swooped down toward me. I ran a hand along it and on it’s end formed a beautiful red apple. I plucked it delicately.

“Well I guess breakfast makes up for it” I muttered. I bit into the apple and savored the sweet taste.

Few trees in the orchard produced apples to share anymore. The only reason they had before was because of the dryads of the village enriching them with their magic. Now after years of that magic’s absence many of the trees had returned to their quiet fretting.

Once I was done eating I climbed down Malic’s branches, my feet splashing up some snow with my landing. “Alright I’m off to the beavers then” I told him. “I’ll be back later” I lifted a hand to his trunk and felt his warmth run off on me. With a smile I hurried off into the woods.

The natural order of the woods was to move fast and keep hidden. This was especially certain for dryads. The Witch hated our natural magic that could make things grow. Beaver supposed that was why she destroyed the village when I was younger. I wasn’t as sure.

My father had been well known in The Wood. He spoke out against the witch and wasn’t afraid to fight for what was right. The Beaver’s don’t really talk about it but I knew that any resistance that might have formed when I was younger had been squashed upon his and my mother’s deaths. Despite this I still held hope that things would get better.

I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard the familiar bark and trample approach of the secret police. You couldn’t be seen by the secret police. My heart rate picked up and a jolt of fear shot through my veins.

I scrambled over to a nearby tree nearly face planting in the dirt. After placing a dirty hand to his trunk I was granted a hiding place up in his branches. I prayed the wolves would pass by below without an issue.

Unfortunately my luck is horrible. Two patrols met and stopped to compare notes right below me. I took this as a spying opportunity though, and tried to hear them below. Making sure to keep out of any kind of line of sight were they to look up. I shifted on the branch and accidentally banged my forehead into a higher limb. I held on and made sure not to fall or make too much noise. Holding a hand to my head I forgot they were covered in mud. Further attempts to clean my now dirty face failed.

"What did you find?" said a gruff voice I knew as Maugrim head of the secret police. If he was here then whatever was going on had to be serious. I abandoned trying to wipe my face clean and listened intently.

"Not much sir the trees aligned with us don't have much recollection of an event such as that." Spoke one of the wolves from the other patrol.

“Of course, not many here support her majesty." Said his companion

"This isn't good her majesty will not be pleased" stated the wolf with Maugrim

"Do any of you really believe that these rumors are true?" the first wolf spoke.

"Quiet don't speak like that" the second scolded.

"This is the fifth time we've gotten such an accusation in the last couple days." he argued.

"Silence" Maugrim snapped. "Do not question the Queens orders or I'll gut you myself on her command"

"Yes sir" the wolf out of turn whimpered.

"Now back to work" the wolves headed off at Maugrim’s command.

I listened for their sounds to fade before climbing down. “Thank you” I whispered to the tree before heading on off to the Beaver’s.

“Beaver! Beaver!” I called crouching down to knock on the door. “You’re never going to believe this.”

The door opened and Mrs. Beaver gave me a questioning look. “Arbor? What in heaven’s name are you screaming about and look at your face it’s covered in dirt”

I scrambled into the house. Breathing heavily. “Maugrim was in the woods” I explained “he said they got a report of something.”

“Maugrim?” Beaver inquired, hobbling out of a back room “where in The Wood?”

“Will you both keep your voices down” Mrs. Beaver scolded lightly. “The last thing we want is someone over hearing you”

“Out near Tumnus’s and the lamppost. They said they were getting reports about something in the woods and something about rumors” I told them taking a seat at the table.

Beaver sat across from me and leaned in speaking in a low voice “rumors? Tumnus’s? You know Badger told me something the other day-“

“Oh now don’t go sharing it with her” Mrs. Beaver interrupted quickly. “It could be dangerous. She’s only a child”

“Hey I’m not that young” I objected “I can take care of myself”

Mrs. Beaver huffed “you are indeed a child and you have no business getting mixed up in all this”

“What even is this?” I exclaimed.

“Aslan is-“

“Beaver!” The woman of the house silenced her husband.

“She deserves to know! Just think of her parents” Beaver told the Mrs.

“Her parents?” Mrs. Beaver sighed and lowered her voice “and just look what happened to them”

“They fought against the White Witch” I spoke up “and I want to as well”

“Now you listen here child” Mrs. Beaver gave me a motherly stare. “I don’t want you getting wrapped up in any of this. You understand me?” She walked over to the counter and collected some berries and biscuits into a little box she closed and shuffled back over to me “now you take these and go home to Malic. Go. Go on” she showed me to the door.

“I’ll be back tomorrow with your box” I told her grumpily. “And more information”

“You better now off with you” She pestered me along. “And don’t be causing anymore trouble”

“Bye” I waved one last time before turning and dashing off into the snow.

“Be careful!” I heard Mrs. Beaver's final call.

The Beavers have been taking care of me ever since my parents died. Them and Malic. They were my family here in the woods.

I ran through The Wood weaving among the trees. The box Mrs. Beaver had given me clattered in my jacket pocket. It was fun to just run free.

Then I heard the sleigh bells. I stopped in my tracks. Frozen, I listened. There was the sound of trampling feet and I ducked behind a rock not long after the Witch’s sleigh came rocketing past. I stayed very still watching it go before getting to my feet.

As she disappeared from view I felt a breath leave my lungs I hadn’t realized had been stuck. My luck really stunk today. First the wolves then the Witch’s carriage herself. I took another deep breath and turned to continue on my way when I froze. Standing not too far off was a boy.

He was dressed in blue with dark hair and eyes. A light dusting of freckles on his face and slippers on his feet he was roughly the same age as me. He looked completely out of place here in the woods. “Wh-who are you?” he asked, a rustling went through the trees and I realized very quickly that they didn’t know him. He wasn’t a dryad like me. He was a human. “Who are you?” he repeated again.

I opened my mouth to respond a little shocked just looking in his eyes. “Edmund!” There was an exclamation and the boy turned toward the voice. Without thinking I quickly ducked behind a large oak and was gifted up into his branches. Crouching there hidden.

A girl had appeared from the woods and greeted the boy. She was dressed in pink with short brown hair and more freckles. They talked for a moment. They were talking too softly for me to hear with the exception of a whining the boy made rather loudly when he shoved the girl away from him.

She turned and began to lead the way back to wherever they were from. I watched them go and saw the boy look back to where I had been with a perplexed expression. It felt weird knowing he was thinking of me.

Once they had vanished from sight I slid down the tree and felt my heart start pounding in my chest. Two humans were in the woods. Two more and we would have the entire prophecy. Spring was going to come. Narnia was going to be free. I let off an excited giggle and turned, making to head back to the Beavers with my news.

I began to run but was stopped when something leapt into my path. I slid on the snow and fell. Looking ahead I saw a wolf stalking around blocking my path. “Well, well, well, look what we have here” I turned to see Maugrim stalking forward behind me. “The rumors might not have worked out how we thought, but we still got something for our trouble. A lone little dryad”

I scrambled onto my feet looking between the two wolves and the woods. “Try it” the second wolf snapped menacingly.

I glanced between the wolves one more time before steeling myself and dashing forward. They were right behind me howling and barking and chasing. This was just a game to them. One grabbed my heel and I fell forward into the snow. Fighting against them a clawed paw tore at my arm ripping the fabric of my jacket and stinging my arm with pain. “Stop struggling we’re not going to kill you.” Maugrim growled as I gripped my arm tightly “her majesty would like to meet the last of the dryads”

I felt my heart beating in my chest. This was not good.


Tags
4 years ago
A Non-selective Plan For The Resurgence Of Fic Commissions
A Non-selective Plan For The Resurgence Of Fic Commissions
A Non-selective Plan For The Resurgence Of Fic Commissions
A Non-selective Plan For The Resurgence Of Fic Commissions
A Non-selective Plan For The Resurgence Of Fic Commissions
A Non-selective Plan For The Resurgence Of Fic Commissions
A Non-selective Plan For The Resurgence Of Fic Commissions
A Non-selective Plan For The Resurgence Of Fic Commissions

a non-selective plan for the resurgence of fic commissions

4 years ago

okay i need all of your help

my gf, @layschips12 , is in a really bad mental state now and i can’t afford to lose her

she’s agreed on the one note = one day staying alive

so please, please, PLEASE, reblog/like

4 years ago

The Derivative  Chapter 8: Sports

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 7

“Do I even need to ask?” David snapped. Uncle Charlie just smiled smugly turning his hand around. The entire table groaned in annoyance. 

“It’s not what it looks like, promise” Don spoke up. 

“You brother hustling us?” one of Don’s friends Mike muttered. 

“I’ve only played once before” Charlie informed as they collected the cards to deal another round of poker. “I actually have a one in eight chance of hitting a set when I’m holding a pocket pair. I’m about 50/50 to draw a flush with suited cards in my hand, two off the draw. I also count my outs I- I multiply by two. I add one. That’s roughly my percentage of hitting.” he explained. 

“Card math” I muttered over my father’s shoulder as I walked past the table. Leaning over to snag some chips out of the snack bowl. 

“Mr. Eppes you need to take my seat, your son is killing us” David declared as Alan brought out more chips. 

“No, not me” Gramps objected “the only other time Charlie played, I learned my lesson about gambling with a mathematician” 

“Hey could I-” 

“No” Don cut me off “Ms. I-can’t-help-but-card-count” 

“Not my fault I was born with perfect visual memory” I muttered as my father got up and headed to the kitchen. 

“Hey weren’t we playing with bottle caps?” Charlie pointed out to his father.

“Yeah or else you’d have walked away with the pink slip to my car” Alan informed. 

“You know, there is some element of chance here” Charlie explained “you know I- I may just be getting lucky.” 

“Or you're just unlucky,” David joked to Mike. 

“That’s funny Sinclair keep that up. It comes back to me when baseball starts” Mike countered taking a swig of his beer as dad returned and handed me a Mountain Dew as he sat down with his glass of water. 

“Baseball?” Charlie questioned “”the FBI have a team?” 

“Yeah, we got a whole league.” David explained “there’s, uh, LAPD, Sheriffs’ department” 

“D.A.’s got the killer squad” Mike commented “Now that Kraft’s in San Diego, you guys don’t have a power hitter.” 

“What about Don?” Charlie suggested. 

“It’s not my thing” Don objected 

“Oh, you play?” Mike inquired. 

“Don went to college on a baseball scholarship,” Charlie informed. “What are you talking about? You played pro second base.” 

“Single A about a million years ago” Don muttered. 

“That’s great. It means you’re this year’s ringer.” Mike grumbled. 

“Nope. I’m sorry.” Don objected quickly “not interest buddy” 

“Come on, you gotta do it” David asked hopefully as Don’s phone rang. 

“Excuse me” he murmured to us answering it. “Eppes… we’ll be right there” he declared, getting to his feet. 

I sighed and shuffled back toward the kitchen where Alan was. “Looks like I’m spending the night,” I informed. 

He looked up at me confused “really? Why?” 

Just then Don popped into the doorway pulling on a jacket “hey dad I just got called in can she stay here tonight?” 

I gave my grandfather a look who sighed “yes of course” 

“Thanks,” Don murmured heading out. 

______________

3rd POV. 

“I’ve never seen him before,” Mr. Bayle declared, handing Don back the photo of Salazar. 

“Are you sure?” the agent asked. 

“Yeah” the man confirmed. 

“I mean, maybe he did some work for you guys around here.” Don persisted. 

“Yeah, he could have. I wouldn’t know” Bayle explained “Lisa was in charge of all that.” 

“I’m just trying to figure out if there’s any possibility that this man knew your wife.” Don insisted as they stepped from the other man’s kitchen into his living room. 

“Why?” Bayle inquired with a shrug as he stopped to face Don. 

“You’re not going to want to hear this” Don prefaced reluctantly “but there are some questions about Cliff Howard’s conviction” 

“The bastard said he did it,” Bayle scoffed. 

“I know,” Don nodded. 

“I haven’t seen you in a year” Bayle continued “I haven’t seen you since you interrogated me for 48 hours.” 

“Sir..” Don tried to speak up but the other man continued. 

“I had to call the funeral home handcuffed to a table.” 

“I was pursuing your wife’s murder wherever it took me” Don attempted to explain his actions. “So help me..” he paused shaking his head and biting his lip and Bayle took the moment to speak again.

“Now you want to tear these wounds open again.” 

“I don’t want to do that,” Don objected adamantly. 

Both men paused to breathe and Don’s eyes wandered over to the mantel where he spotted a picture he recognized he shuffled over to point at it “that’s your, uh, your daughter. What’s her name? Paula?” he asked, trying to remember. 

“Yes” Jonas answered, his voice still tense with emotion. 

“Right. May I?” Don gestured to the photo. 

“Go ahead,” Bayle allowed. Don took the photo from the mantel and looked at the young girl. “She’s a sophomore now.” 

“Yeah, so is my daughter,” Don admitted. 

“You have a daughter?” Jonas asked, surprised. 

Don nodded “her names Abby.” he chuckled slightly with a bittersweet spike in his gut “yeah she came to live with me not too long ago after her mother died, car crash” 

“I’m sorry” Bayle murmured, shifting on his feet. 

Don replaced the photo and turned to face the other man. “Jonas, don’t you want to know the truth about your wife’s death?” 

“Cliff Howard is the truth,” Bayle insisted. 

______________

Abby POV. 

“Okay tell me I’m crazy” Larry declared, setting his pencil down and rubbing his face with his hands. “I think I’ve just found a way to express Calabi-Yau manifolds in a way that goes beyond the existence of a nonvanishing harmonic spinor.” 

“You're crazy,” I muttered, taking another bite of my food. 

“Ch- Charles” Larry whined when he received no response from his fellow mathematician. 

“Has he been out there all night?” Uncle C questioned turning away from the window he had been gazing out of. Watching my father play basketball. 

“Well, on the bright side it seems like Don’s taken up an interest in sports again.” Alan commented. 

Charlie sighed taking the seat next to me “it’s like the evidence proves him right and wrong at the same time” 

“Oh, yeah, the old paradox of Schroedinger’s cat.” Larry murmured. 

“Is that that persian that keeps hiding out in our garage?” Alan inquired. 

“No, that's the Myers down the street’s cat” I muttered, taking a sip of my drink. 

“It’s an intellectual exercise,” Charlie explained. 

“I knew that,” Alan lied. 

“Okay this is vastly simplified” Larry prompted “there’s a cat in a box. 50/50 chance it’s been poisoned, but now here’s the paradox: until such time as we can open the box and observe the cat, for that time, that cat is both alive and dead.” 

“Larry I-I fail to see the analogy, though.” Charlie objected “I mean, in reality Don can’t be both right and wrong at the same time.” 

“Well, of course not.” Alan chimed in “I mean, if a man is both right and wrong, then something’s gotta be wrong.” 

“Positive and a negative equal a negative?” I scoffed. 

“No. the truth of Schroedinger’s cat is that the question itself is meaningless until we look inside the box.” Larry informed. 

“So you could ask a whole different question” I voiced. 

“For a whole different result” Larry finished. Uncle Charlie immediately straightened and turned to look at the window again. Before getting up and heading outside after his brother. “Well and off he goes again to help solve the unjust of the world” 

“You can always tell when he gets an idea he spaces out then runs” I muttered. 

Larry hummed in agreement “you know you are quite insightful young enigma quite like your uncle I’m surprised you’ve yet to push ahead of your peers in academia like he so did” 

“Oh here we go” Alan muttered. 

“Well I’ve tried they won’t put me in advanced classes because I wasn’t in school consistently as a kid.” I explained. 

“Well that’s absurd a brilliant mind shouldn’t be held back by the amount of desks they haven’t sat at or lectures they’ve witnessed” Larry voiced in annoyance. 

“Preaching to the choir,” I told him. 

“Yes but do me a favor and don’t get on the soap box of yours again” Gramps asked me. 

I nodded in agreement and picked at the last bits of food on my plate. “You know what?” Larry spoke up causing me and Alan to look at him but his eyes were trained on me “you should attend CalSci once you’ve escaped high school. We have no such requirements if you show the aptitude” 

“I don’t know I’m still looking at quite a bit of time being forced to look at this stuff in school let alone do I want to keep having to do school work beyond it.” I pointed out. 

“No no no” Larry objected waving his hands “it’s not like that at CalSci you can learn what you want and gain knowledge and work to gather more knowledge of the universe itself with a very hands on approach” 

I sighed finishing off my dinner and gathered my dishes. “I’ll think about it” 

“Very well” Larry accepted the answer as I stood up. 

“You done?” Alan asked. 

“Yeah” I murmured, taking my dishes into the kitchen. I glanced out the window and spotted my Uncle joining my father in his basketball playing. I loved basketball. The one sport I was decent at. As I watched my mind different back to just shortly before I went to live with my father here. 

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

3rd POV. 

“Yo Calvin” Abby looked up from where she was sitting with her back to a wall in the courtyard book in hand. A girl named Naomi was looking at her from the basketball court with the ball tucked under her arm. Other girls around her were glancing in Abby’s direction and muttering to each other. “We need a even number get over here” 

Abby hesitated. Veronica was standing on the court eyeing her with the same hate in her eyes. However after one of her accomplices came over and whispered in her ear she nodded her agreement with the situation.  

Abby sighed and closed her book getting up and heading to the court. “‘ight y’all line up me and V will choose the teams,” Naomi declared. 

Abby stood in line with the seven other girls they had goated into playing with them. Veronica stuck to choosing her pals and Naomi was smart enough not to choose them but Veronica only had three friends and Abby ended up being the last one on the line as Naomi chose the girl next to her. 

“Calvin and V on the same team” one of the girls on Naomi’s team voiced “this’ll be interesting.” 

Abby scoffed and took her position on the court. “Hey bookworm don’t get in the way” Veronica snapped. 

“Then stay out of mine” Abby shrugged. Veronica shot her a glare as the other girls jeered. 

“Hey let’s play” Naomi called everyone’s attention. 

The game started out easy. Naomi had the ball and was heading down the court. Abby intercepted her snagging the ball easily and heading down the court when she was slammed in the side hitting the ground. Veronica had the ball now and shot it into the hoop. 

“Hey!” Abby yelled getting back to her feet “thought we were on the same team” 

“Thought I said stay out of my way” Veronica retaliated coming up to get Abby’s face. 

“Hey knock it off” Naomi pushed between the girls “either play or leave and sort your shit out the way you normally do and land in the infirmary” 

“You telling me what to do, china?” Veronica snarled at Naomi. 

Naomi shifted back a bit “I’m actually Korean not that it matters but what I’m trying to do is play some basketball. Now you two can go duke it out if you want at least it’ll keep the teams even” 

Veronica scoffed “whatever” she stalked back onto the court. 

Abby sighed and followed the game started up again and Abby barely touched the ball as it was passed from player to player. Until it got to a point where they had five minutes left of courtyard time and Naomi’s team was up by one. 

“We need to score. You beat Naomi at ball, that's a serious brag even with dead weights like Harp and Richards on her team” Veronica’s lacky Fiona stated. 

“Yeah well we aren’t going to if Veronica tries to score again” Abby muttered to the rest of the huddle. 

“You saying I can’t shoot Calvin?” Veronica turned to her angry. 

“No I’m saying our entire strategy has been geared to give you glory this entire time and they’ve figured that out” Abby explained “that’s why they’ve blocked our last five attempts.” 

“What? You want us to pass it to you?” Veronica asked “that ain’t how that works Calvin” 

“I don’t care who you pass it to” Abby shrugged “you just gotta pass it” 

Veronica thought about it a moment “Alright Fi you take it” she declared. “Let’s go” 

“Okay” Fiona muttered, sounding unsure. 

The game started and Naomi’s team got the ball dribbling down the court. Veronica intercepted as Abby and Fiona headed down opposite sides of the court. Veronica looked to pass it and saw Naomi guarding Fiona who was looking less than confident. Then she saw Calvin raise her hand. She was completely open. No one expected Veronica to pass the ball to the one girl she beat up every other day. 

Veronica passed the ball. Abby caught it easy and dribbled it a step before shooting it circled the hoop before dropping in to the cheers of the team.

“Alright ladies time to get inside” one of the matron’s called from the door the girls shuffled to the door Naomi scooping the ball. 

“Nice shot Calvin” Naomi told her, shoving her shoulder as she passed. 

Abby grabbed her book and headed inside. She was heading down the hall at a casual pace before she was pinned to the wall. Veronica had her collar. “That was a one time thing you got that?” 

Abby blinked at the other girl “really? You're so insecure about your status you have to make that point?” she asked with every ounce of sass she could muster. 

Veronica growled and threw her to the floor Abby got on her feet and shoved Veronica’s middle. The bigger girl pushed her away and soon they were grabbing at each other pulling hair and scratching. Soon someone was there to pull them apart. 

“Why do any of us expect different of those two?” Abby heard Naomi mutter to Fiona as Abby and Veronica were led to the infirmary.  

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_

Abby POV.

“Bye Uncle Charlie” I called from the shade as the mathematician peeled off the fence of the batting cages and headed back to his car. 

“Bye Abbs” Charlie replied with a wave. I glanced over at my father as another crack of baseball on bat sounded. He was really starting to get into a rhythm, a proud smile on his face. I smiled lightly and returned to my reading. However there was only a moment of peace before Don appeared grabbing his water bottle and taking a swig.

“You want to take a few whacks?” He asked, gesturing to the batting cage. 

I shot another look over at the ball spitter. “Uh no thanks I’ve never really..” I trailed off gesturing at the cage with an implied statement and apathetic wave. 

Don looked at the cage then back at me with a small amount of shock evident in his face. “You’ve never played baseball before?” He asked in disbelief. 

“Maybe once in gym class” I shrugged answering honestly. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed Donald but I’m kinda on the nerd side of things” 

Don scoffed. “Come on” he grabbed my book and much to my relief remembered to put the bookmark in its place before closing it. “No daughter of mine is going to go through life without playing baseball”

I scoffed as I was pulled to my feet and given a helmet. I would normally put up a bit more of a fight but I knew that this sport meant a lot to him. So I kept my remarks to myself and went along with it. We headed out to the cage. He showed me what position to take. How to hold the bat properly and watch the ball. 

Even with his coaching it took a while before I actually hit the ball. When I did it was quite auspicious to us both. Despite it not going anywhere near where we wanted it to go. There was a lot of laughing and joking and we both left happy reliving the events in story with some subtle elaborations. Don excited to take me back some time.

Chapter 9 -> 


Tags
4 years ago

Nothing beats the feeling when you start getting comments on every fic in a fandom or ship from one person, and it’s clear that they’re going on a fic-binge. 

4 years ago
8 Page Short Kids Book Class Project On Important/current/difficult Topics! Covered The Topics Of Change,
8 Page Short Kids Book Class Project On Important/current/difficult Topics! Covered The Topics Of Change,
8 Page Short Kids Book Class Project On Important/current/difficult Topics! Covered The Topics Of Change,
8 Page Short Kids Book Class Project On Important/current/difficult Topics! Covered The Topics Of Change,
8 Page Short Kids Book Class Project On Important/current/difficult Topics! Covered The Topics Of Change,
8 Page Short Kids Book Class Project On Important/current/difficult Topics! Covered The Topics Of Change,
8 Page Short Kids Book Class Project On Important/current/difficult Topics! Covered The Topics Of Change,
8 Page Short Kids Book Class Project On Important/current/difficult Topics! Covered The Topics Of Change,

8 page short kids book class project on important/current/difficult topics! Covered the topics of change, sibling relationships and the subject of having a transgender family member (in this case an older brother!)

Was made with trans and non-binary art students!

4 years ago

I think the obsession with having been “born this way” largely stems from the idea that you need to be “innocent” to be guiltless. 

If something is weird then you need to have no control over it, otherwise it would be mandatory to fix it. If I said that I had control over my stimming and could stop it at any time, people would request I do so. Not for my comfort but for theirs. If I said that I had control over my gender and could be something binary or maybe even cis, people would request I do so. If I said that I have control over my sexuality and could make myself heterosexual, people would request I do so. If I said I could control my attraction and could make myself monogamous, people would request I do so. If I said that I could control my disability and could choose to stop a flair up in its tracks, people would request I do so. They would never ask out of the goodness of their hearts, they would always be asking because I was annoying, concerning, distracting, or inconveniencing them. 

Diversity is sometimes only tolerated if you have no control. If you have control, rules will be made to stop it. Hair will be straightened, clothes will be standardized, languages will be shushed, interests will be squashed, weight will be lost, and so on and so on and so on. Proving that we were born this way replaces the more obvious, that we’re okay this way. I don’t need to be a helpless victim of my differences to be forgiven for them. My differences aren’t crimes. 

4 years ago

hanging out with other ADHD people is such a balm. i can interrupt them midsentence and go “look at that nice duck!!” and they’ll immediately turn around and go “oh my god that is a GOOD duck” instead of just snapping at me to pay attention

4 years ago

Preferred Name

The other day a friends parent introduced me to some of her friends by my preferred name. It made me so happy in the moment I could barely mutter a greeting because she was the first adult in my life who knew me before by my birth name and made the intentional change to my preferred name. It got me thinking about preferred names and this came to my mind as a message to those who don’t call others by their preferred names:

Imagine you work with a person. Not in close proximity but you know of each other. Imagine one of your mutual coworkers as a joke tells this person that your preferred name is Bucket.

This person takes that information and continues to refer to you as Bucket even correcting other coworkers into call you by that name. You don’t know where the source is so you can’t stop it. And this continues for years.

Then finally you two get moved and start working together regularly. You finally get the chance to correct this person on what your really name is.

Their response: “but I’ve always known you as Bucket calling you anything else would be so hard. So I’ll just call you Bucket if that’s okay”

This continues. They call you Bucket every time you speak. They introduce you to new people as Bucket they call you Bucket in front of large groups of people and people who know your real name who get confused.

They don’t stop and when you correct them their response is: “sorry but it’s just hard to change and remember”

Wouldn’t you be frustrated? Wouldn’t you be annoyed? Wouldn’t you be uncomfortable?

Respect people. Respect their names. Don’t make excuses. It’s not hard to understand.


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