#personal space is non existent

[desomniis]

Charles is so whipped.

[shalom-iamcominghome]

Another healing thing I like about my irl jewish community is that my masculinity hasn't ever been questioned. In a lot of ways, I totally get where people feel uncomfortable with the binary expectations of the genders are, but I live my life functionally in a binary way. It's just nice (for me) to wear kippah, to speak hebrew, and it's clear what the expectation is for who I am. In so many ways, it's nice to just take a break from feeling the need to educate people, to be almost a sounding board, and to just focus on judaism. I've gotten so used to feeling out of place that being in jewish spaces just feels nice.

Of course, this isn't to say that all jewish spaces are the same, that jews are a monolith. This is just my experience at my shul. I appreciate that they just accepted me into the fold and that I haven't had to give a seminar like I feel many people in non-jewish spaces almost require of you so that they can even consider accepting you. I know there is a lot of work that trans jews have done and are still doing, and we ought to highlight, recognize, and appreciate.

[chaos-in-one]

Exclusionist weirdos when trans, mspec, and aspec people also exist in lgbtq spaces:

[bitchfitch]

somebody shoot me with a gun until I am dead before I write the first chapter of that pirate thing for like. Genuinely the eighth or ninth time.

[freefolkfightorflight]

Making soup.

I put away some laundry

Answered a phone call.

Need to go to dmv 🙄 dreading it bad. Need to just try to make it happen tomorrow but it’s iffy with everything closing. Gotta get the kids by 11 from school.

I know this sounds like nothing but it’s a lot for me right now. I’m overwhelmed and weepy and struggling somethin fierce. But god damn this broth is exquisite.

[tyrannuspitch]

i think. i should read more comics.

[psalmsofpsychosis]

i love waking up and being me because i be out there interacting with people in the most ordinary and uneventful way possible and still the most innocent well-intentioned remark could set me the fuck off. A stranger guy (very normal and non-threatening) come over to make conversation and told me "there's something very calm about you which kind of makes you pretty approachable," aaaaaaand boom. Now i'm in 89% defense mood and ready to snap your neck in half if you look at me a certain way.

[catgirlcrisis]

i hate to be chronically online but please dni if you are a space for bi lesbians or whatever they call themselves

[tovaicas]

not me importing my anti-air defense worldbuilding h/cs into ishgard bc I can

[shrikeseams]

here to offer a spicy addendum to the 'luthien was shit at politics' agenda: luthien comes by it honestly because her WHOLE FAMILY is shit at politics, or at least at foreign policy. melian is good at Advice, thingol is good at Dramatic Declarations, and if doriath had ever had to do any sort of genuine politicking with people outside the girdle whoever they were up against would have eaten them alive

...seems very likely. I was going to say 'they did okay with dwarves during the YoT era,' but uh. That depends on whether you consider the hunting dwarves for sport period canon. :/ Maybe Thingol is just kinda average (charismatic but not... manipulative? ), and Melian went to the same school of political thought as Manwe (ie, none), and then Thingol left Luthien's political education to Melian, on the grounds that an ainu education is best. (I mean. It's clearly great for singing and healing and fighting umaiar! Just... not for understanding why it's a good idea to know about the political players outside your walled garden.)

Elwing did okay in Sirion, though, so I'm going to credit that to Nimloth's genes (and being unable to afford the luxury of ignorance).

[thesokovianaccords]

You guys all know I’m a hater first and foremost and nothing gets me going more than my own people lolol what the FUCK is this comment

[thebiffmethod]

ugh

[all-of-star-trek-is-autistic]

I have never related to a character more in my life

the sheer amount of autism in him ☝ ☝ ☝

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Gravity Falls was strange, and the townsfolk even stranger, it seemed.

The twins had been unceremoniously dropped off on the side of the dusty road, the roar of the bus engine fading away as the driver wordlessly drove off without fanfare. The poor man had almost seemed close to tears ever since they had entered the thresholds of this seemingly innocuous town, all too eager to speed off and away while leaving the two children coughing and wheezing in its dust.

It had not even been a full minute since their lackluster drop-off before they became well acquainted with the oddly sociable and irritatingly chatty inhabitants of Gravity Falls. A single conversation with a pair of boisterous policemen already told them all they needed to know about the history of the town, as well as the whereabouts of their Great Uncle Ford.

"The Mystery Shack," the townsfolk had called it. It seemed as though their distant uncle had earned himself somewhat of a reputation amongst the locals. He was the town cryptid; the ever elusive mad scientist that lived in the outskirts of town in this so called "Mystery Shack". No one really knew who he really was; but everyone knew exactly who he was.

So, when the twins found themselves stood hand in hand in front of the rickety old shack, they hadn't really known what to expect when door had swung open with a deafening slam.

He was a strange man, their Great Uncle Ford. He seemed nothing like the cackling looney lab-coated madman they had imagined from what meager hushed information the townsfolk had offered them. It seemed as though the tales of a scientist gone mad that experimented on stray children that wandered into his spooky "Mystery Shack" was but a cruel rumor.

He mostly just seemed unhealthy, to be honest. His sickly, pale frame utterly drowned in the thick red woolen sweater that practically seemed to hang off of his lanky body like a second flap of skin. It made him look almost child-like, like a kid trying on their parents clothes; which somewhat diluted the intimidating effects of his looming height.

Although, the townsfolk's apparent fear of their Great Uncle Ford seemed to have some merit.

For one, Grunkle Ford really didn't seem all too human. He wasn't inhumane, per se; just, not entirely himself, if that made any sense. Looking at him was like looking at an incomplete puzzle; or looking at someone who you remember all your life wearing a hat, suddenly coming to work one day without one, and it takes a little too long for you to remember what is missing.

It was like Grunkle Ford had lost pieces of himself. Somewhere, to someone. His eyes seemed... almost empty. They were a little too dull and a little too opaque, lacking the lively shine of life everyone else seemed to have.

Another thing was that Grunkle Ford wasn't entirely alone. There was... someone else. The twins couldn't exactly pinpoint where, but they could feel its stare, whatever or whoever it was. They could almost feel its stare, a non-existent eye trailing a weird prickling sensation across their skin. The twins recalled the words of one of the townsfolk, a tall bestacled man with haunted blind eyes; although unseeing they could have sworn his gaze never seemed to leave them, as all he said was:

"Don't catch IT staring at you"

The twins had an odd feeling that IT was looking at them right now.

They didn't even notice when the pale bony hand of Grunkle Ford suddenly reached into their personal space, barely registering his words at all, much less the extra fingers that adorned each of his rough, worn palms.

They didn't take the hand.

If the twins had thought the outside of the shack looked decrepit, the inside seemed somehow even worse.

Every inch of exposed wall, ceiling or floor were utterly covered by sprawling symbols, summoning circles, and indecipherable words that seemed to be in an entirely different language than any the twins knew. They overlapped and tangled into one another into big, messy, red splotches of clustered nothings.

There were notes, diagrams on ripped pieces of aged looking paper scattered everywhere, with hardly any room for post-it notes squeezed wherever there was room. Lit and unlit candles were placed absolutely everywhere; either hidden in the dark corners or openly stood in the middle of the floor; sometimes in a circle, sometimes not. The melted fallen wax had coagulated into a hard white mess onto the floor; the smell of cheap vanilla scented candles intermingling with the smell of halloween fake blood (and Dipper was convince there had to be some real blood there, too) to create a sour concoction that stung their noses unpleasantly.

The shack was sparsely furnished with rarely any furniture at all. Not even a couch, the tables and chairs simply pushed to the walls to make more space for the endlessly swirling symbols and pentagrams. The twins were hesitant of stepping on any of the summoning circles, carefully sidestepping the candles and walking over the line of the pentagrams.

The attic, where they would be residing, was not much better.

Maybe they did end up in a mad scientist's house, after all.

[littleapocalypsekitten]

The sad thing is that I think that there are a lot of non-Internet-geek people in politics who would see this and flat out panic and come up with conspiracy theories claiming that it's not a joke. You know, like Q-Anon people thinking that the Ebil Socialists OF COURSE want to bring their UN-AMERICAN ways to the country because there are vampires trying to harvest tastier blood!

[kendyroy]

personal space is non-existent between them