I could get cancelled for this immediately, but does anyone else get really irritated when you see a certain subset of the queer community inserting themselves into other subsets’ issues?
Like when cis gay people think they can speak for trans folks just because “well we’re all lgbt.”
Or like gay men thinking they can make misogynistic comments about lesbians and use the word d*ke etc just because “well we’re lgbt too”.
Or (and this is a big one lately) queer women inserting themselves into conversations that are about issues specific to queer men, and acting like they have exactly as much credibility in the argument because “well we’re just as lgbt as you.”
It’s just like… yeah we’re all queer. But each individual group is their own mini community, and they all have their own things that are specific to them, and if you aren’t in that exact demographic then you don’t have the experience necessary to add your input on those topics. And if you go ahead and shove your way into the conversation anyway, then you’re like… only 5% better than a homophobe. If that.
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Danny was tired, like 'I feel it in my bones and soul' tired.
And he didn't want sleep at home because there's only so many nights, he could spend lying awake making sure his heart was beating in case his parents checked on him.
Currently he was flying aimlessly not really taking in his surroundings, but he could neither sleep while flying or fly forever.
Normally he'd sleep over at Sam or Tucker's, but the Mansons had made it clear that he wasn't welcome at their house anymore and Tucker was grounded.
Both would sneak him in if he asked, but he didn't want them to get in trouble for him.
Which leads him to decide between his two choices, sleeping in a graveyard, or sleeping in a forest.
The graveyard was a little crowded with all the ghosts that called it home but he could probably find a quiet spot to sleep.
The forest had a great view of the stars but was filled with traps from both his parents and the GIW after tracking his ecto-signature.
Both options weren't appealing, but he wasn't about to chance sleeping on the roof of his house again.
There were too many ghost detecting guns attached to it now.
Danny sighed, graveyard it was, at least the ecto from all the shades/ghosts would hide him well enough.
Decision made, now all he had to do was make his way over there.
But first, where the heck was he?
Danny looked around at the unfamiliar grey sky and gargoyles littered around and realized he had no clue where he was.
He must have flown too far away from Amity without noticing...Again.
It was really becoming a bad habit.
Danny stared down at the city's inhabitants that were going home or heading to nightshifts or whatever and dreaded the long flight back to his town.
And maybe it was ghost instinct, or maybe it was just his exhaustion.
But his brain suggested 'What if I just possess someone?' And to him that seemed like a perfectly logical train of thought.
He wouldn't control their body or anything, just sleep in their skin...That did not make it sound better at all.
Before he could think twice, someone left a general store, arms filled with stuff and somehow projecting an aura of safety.
The two thoughts of 'They look comfy' and 'screw it' clashed together in his head as he made the very stupid decision of performing a swan drive right into the someone.
"WHAT THE-" "Don't worry, I'll be gone by morning I just need to sleep" Danny cut off the persons freakout-he should really get their name at some point- he would have explained more but the sleep gods had already done their job.
This left one very confused, scared, and freaked out Batkid.
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before you know about women, you hear that you do not need to love the man, just that you need to love him through his manhood. which is to say you have seen the future painted in lamb's blood over your eyes - how your mother shoots you a look about your father's inability to cook right. how your aunt holds her wineglass and says i'm gonna kill em. men, right! how your best friend bickers with her boyfriend, how she says i can't help it. i come back to him.
you learn: men are gonna cheat. men aren't going to listen when you're talking, because you're nagging. men think emotions are stupid. they think your life is vapid and your hobbies are embarrassing. men will slam things, but that's because men are allowed to be angry. if you get loud, you're hysterical. if a man gets loud - well, men are animals, men are dogs, men can't control their hands or their eyes or their bodies. they're going to make a snide comment about you in the locker room, about your body, about how you're so fucking annoying. you're going to give him kids, and he will give you the money for the kids, and you're going to be running the house 24/7 - but he gets to relax after a long day, because his job is stressful. the man is on stage, and is a comedian, and says "women!"
and you are supposed to love that. you are supposed to love men through how horrible they are to you - because that's what women do. that's what good women do. wife material. your father even told you once - it'll make sense when you're older. it was like staring down a very lonely tunnel.
it feels like something's caught in your throat, but it's all you know, so. it's okay that you see sex as a necessary tool, a sort of okay-enough ritual to keep him happy, even though he doesn't seem to care about happiness as-applied-to you. it is relationship upkeep. it is kissing him and smiling even though he didn't brush his teeth. it is getting on your knees and looking up and holding back a sigh because he barely holds you as you panic through the night. it's not like the sex is bad and you do like feeling wanted. and besides! he's a man! like... they're another species. you'll never be able to actually communicate, right. he isn't listening.
you just don't get it. you don't feel that sense of i'm gonna climb him like a tree. mostly it just feels fucking exhausting. you play the part perfectly. you smile and nod and are "effortlessly" charming. and it's fine! it's alright! you even love him, if you're looking. you could have good life, and a good family, and perfectly happy.
in the late night you google: am i broken. you google i'm not attracted to my husband. you google i get turned on by books but not by him. you google how to get better in bed.
the first time he yells at you, it almost feels like blankness. like - of course this is happening. this is always how it was going to end up. men get angry, and they yell, and you sit there in silence.
you mention it to your friend - just the once - while you're drunk. she shrugs and says it's like that with me too, i just try to forget and move on. men are always gonna hear what they want to. pick your battles and say sorry even though he's in the wrong. you play solitaire online for a month. you go to your therapist appointment and preach about how you're both so in love.
after all, you have a future to want. nobody lied about it - how many instagram posts say marriage is hard. say real love takes work. say we fight like cats and dogs but the best part is that we always make up. how many of your friends say happy anniversary to the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. if you really loved him - loved yourself too - you'd accept that men are just different from you.
the first time she kisses you, it's on a dare at a party. something large and terrifying whips through your body. you wake up sweating from dreams where her mouth is encrusted with pearls and you pick them off one by one with your teeth. fuck. you sit at the computer and your almost-finished game of sim city. you think about your potential perfect life and your potential future family. you google am i gay quiz with your little hands shaking.
you delete each letter slowly. you don't need to love him. you just need to keep going.
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[ cw: violence mention / death mention / ]
Will never stop thinking about how Leo, all alone in an endless void and being beaten again and again and again by the only other living thing around, still finds comfort in that space. The situation he was in was completely hopeless, and in any other circumstances he would not have escaped, at least not fast enough to save him from permanent (or even fatal) damage, be it physical or mental.
And yet, despite the bleakness of his situation, despite the agony and helplessness, all he needs is one glance at a crumbled photograph, one glance to remember his family, and that’s enough of a reason for him to smile.
Maybe that’s why his powers center around manipulating space - because no matter how much space is between them, no matter how dire his own situation may be, just the thought of his family, alive and okay, is enough to give Leo hope.
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So I’m gonna say something crazy… but have you ever considered that maybe, just maybe… and hear me out… the core four group in the show about “outcasts and wierdos” ISN’T supposed to have a straight-white-able-bodied-all-american male that people from that group can easily project on to? That maybe the straight-white-male audience might have to contend with the fact that they find relatability in characters who are black, disabled, or gay? That MAYBE there isn’t supposed to be this pov character that easily fits into these conventions that they’ve been so used to seeing in popular media but that’s also kind of the point?
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