#i've passed on into another place

[nostalgiaclown]

I can't wait to frame this

[writhe]

[horsemage]

I think we should bring back basic etiquette lessons such as shutting the fuck up when you’re watching a movie in a group that is not exclusively your friend group 🙂

[lucyvaleheart]

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[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

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[yardsards]

found in a yearbook from the 1950s

[psikind]

hey so. childhood friend of mine commited suicide late july and his dad’s trying to fund the money for his funeral service - if people have the money to donate please do the service is in 3 days (august 5th) and he’s very close to the goal but otherwise it’d mean a lot if people spread the link around -> https://gofund.me/f04d9bf0

[jedi-bird]

There are a few books that I read while growing up that influenced my desire to be a writer (I'll get there someday, I swear). One of those was the Green Rider by Kristen Britain. At the time, it was the exact fantasy book I needed and craved. Recently, I had the opportunity to order a special signed edition in honor of it's 25 year since publication. And of course it came today, in a very heavy rain storm.

Box was soaked all the way through, but thankfully the book was wrapped in plastic and in perfect condition. It might seem silly to buy a book I already own two copies of yet again (my original falling apart mass market paperback and a used library copy with heavy duty binding that I've switched to using for rereads), but I love collecting new versions of beloved books.

[kurthorton-moving]

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[kalashtars]

[veilblight]

i possess the face of a guy who knows street names & public transport

[lizard-dumbass]

Oh how I wish there was a forest near where I live

[eimearkuopio]

We've got time. It will be enough. ❤️

Look, I'm not saying that it's our place as an organisation to dictate who does and does not get to claim monsterhood. I'm just saying that when the membership of the organisation in question includes a sphinx, a bridge troll, several mysterious hermits, and a pair of goblins where one of them always tells the truth and the other always lies, "no gatekeeping" is a policy that needs to be approached with nuance.

[queer-ecopunk]

So, I'm trans. And several years ago, I was at my great grandfather's funeral. 17, newly on T, barely out to anyone other than my close friends and family. And I'm standing there at the refreshment's table, surrounded by strangers and members of my family's church, when George walks up to me.

This man is ancient, bent like a finger and frail. Tufts of white hair surround his wrinkled face. Like always, he's wearing thick glasses, massive hearing aids, and his veteran's hat. George was my first introduction to the concept of war, when he told me as a child why he was missing two fingers on his hand. He's been a fixture at church since I can remember. I've only ever seen him at there or in uniform at parades, the rest of his time spent in a nursing home somewhere. He picks up a deviled egg and says, in his quiet voice,

"You know, before your grandfather died, he told me that now he had 3 grandsons."

I'm frozen in place. I don't know what to say to that, if I should say anything at all. This is not a conversation I expected to have, especially not with this man. But he continues.

"I didn't know what he meant! So he explained it to me."

And I can imagine it. My great grandfather, uninformed and opinionated but supportive, explaining to his friend the news he barely understood himself over after-service coffee and cookies. His eldest grandchild was now a boy.

"And, you know, I didn't know what to think."

Here, George looks me up and down. This 90-something year old war veteran, who knew me mostly as the little girl playing in the church kitchen with his wife, processing what my great grandfather had really meant. It feels like a long pause, even thought it probably passed in a second.

"But you look good. So, eh!"

And then he smiled, shrugged, and walked away without another word. If I was fine, if I was happier, then that's all that mattered.

George passed away this week, at the age of 99. This memory has been bouncing around in my head for a while, but I wasn't sure if or how I should share it. It was a conversation that meant very little, but also meant the world. It was scary, and funny, and the moment when I realized that sometimes the people you least expect will accept you. Sometimes, even if they don't fully understand, even if they barely know you, someone will choose to support you. And that will always matter.

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

normally I'm not very critical of movies but oh my gosh. the one I just watched was so bad (I sat here for a while trying to figure out the best way to word this but the benadryl has already kicked in. no thoughts head empty). like genuinely how the fuck did this get funding. How did it make it into THEATERS?

[myfootyrthroat]

I think a lot of people actually understand this pretty well. It's like if there's a clubhouse for men, and your friends are slowly all let into the clubhouse but you never are. You end up sitting in the park across the street from the clubhouse with some other rejects. People will walk by and tell you "Your clubhouse sucks." but they're only directing it at you because you're not in the clubhouse. If you were inside the clubhouse, you wouldn't even hear them, and they know that.

Here's a key part of the transfemme experience that is very overlooked: when you don't pass, people don't actually see you as a man, or treat you like a man.