Exile

Paralympian bucky barnes in target shooting getting the same “this guy is a hitman, this guy is definitely a hitman” response that that Turkish guy got, and then after going viral for that going viral for his adorably nerdy boyfriend

BUDDY you're a BOY you're a BIG BIG BOY you're a BIG BIG BIG BIG BIG BIG BOY you got mud on your face you BIG BIG BOY kicking your can all over the place singing WEE wee WEE wee WEE wee WEE wee

The fact is, when Sam got snapped, Steve went and did something that made him feel closest to Sam because it was the only way he could cope, and also to honor his memory.

im done

Denver Zoo and its gay lorikeets said fuck homophobes happy Pride

Homophobes: u mean they act like brothers

Denver Zoo: they’re fucking, lorie.

Hot news💋📸

For @samsseptember 2024 Day 10 | I Never Said Pilot

Lichen agarics

Sometimes I think about my old manager at work who, in order to prove that the organisation was safe for trans people, told me about a fellow trans employee—a woman who was passing! who wasn’t out to me or to anyone else!—and about how chill everyone in management had been about her needing to take time off TO GET VAGINOPLASTY. He was not her manager! He was not her friend! He did not work in HR! There was no way he could have come into this PRIVATE MEDICAL INFORMATION without being told by another manager who had gossiped. And even if there had been, why the fuck was it any of my business!

Likewise, a friend of mine was just told by a school principal about how a prospective school was safe for trans kids… because a trans girl whose parents don’t affirm her at home is able to be affirmed at school. This information about this child’s gender and home environment was relayed along with her FUCKING GRADE LEVEL. This incredibly vulnerable kid was wheeled out as a selling point by the school with way more than enough information to figure out who she was.

In order to make the argument that a place is safe for trans people, cis people are wayyyy too happy to give out private information about trans people. With allies like these, who needs enemies!!!

If you are the recipient of this kind of "and here is another trans person" information leak (ESPECIALLY when it outs a trans woman!!) it's imperative that you come down on it like the divine fist of God. We should shame these little weasels like trans lives depend on it (because they might). Might I suggest:

so the thing about my family is that we have two ancestors on my dad’s side who were buried in france, where I currently live. one died in the spanish civil war, and one died prior doing…we don’t know what. but he somehow managed to get buried in père lachaise. 

so anyhow, my gran sends me a message like “pls put flowers on ur uncle samuel’s grave because he’s gone over a century with none and it will make the ghost mad if he hasn’t already” because my family spends time in europe but never long enough to go all the way to père lachaise and give ya boy samuel jr. his death rites. so im like “ok gran I can do that” bc im a good grandson and you do not fuck with gran she doesn’t DESERVE THAT 

i figure out which plot he’s on and ask someone specifically where you can find uncle samuel jr. and they tell me where and so I arrive at the junction and. 

HE GONE. 

WHERE DID YOU GO UNCLE SAMUEL. 

*celine dion’s smash hit “my heart will go on” playing in the distance* 

in other words either someone stole my entire great great uncle samuel or he has risen again, ready to party in paris for all of eternity. 

You’re pretty chill about a corpse disappearing.

My guy, my dude, he’s been dead since 1851. He could be anywhere. He does what he wants.

What a way to learn you have a Vampire in the family.

Uncle Samuel

He destroyed his grave

yes

YES

The uncle is out

See? This is what happens when you don’t leave offerings for your dead.

MISSING ADULT: Samuel Jr.

Last seen 100 years ago

Height: unforseeable Weight: skeletal Hair: possibly Eyes: yikes

If you have any information as to the whereabouts of this uncle please take photos, that sounds cool as hell

Samtember day 12 - On the run - for @samwilsonfest

Sam Wilson, the Winter Falcon, on the run from Hydra ⋆*❅｡.

I guess friendly reminder that you can't actually judge someone's socioeconomic status based on what they own and the classic republican "they can't be poor they own a smart phone/computer" argument doesn't suddenly stop being complete out of touch nonsense when a poor person makes it.

Anyway insert "y'all can't be trusted to eat the rich bcs you'll target taco bell shift leaders and people with playstations instead of actual billionaires" post here.

One time, in the local queer exchange, an older person was trying to sell a small painting by a long-dead, moderately well known artist for a couple grand and all these babies started screaming at them in the comments about how high the asking price was and how they should be donating the painting to a museum or the money to charity. And OP was like, "the artist gave me this as a gift bc we were friends and I'm only selling it to pay for chemo."

I once saw someone say it was Bougie and selfish to have a savings account with any amount of money in it. Like you're rich if you have absolutely any money left after paying for necessities.

Like sweetie the person who has 100 bucks left after paying all bills isn't rich. You're just really poor. Actually both of you are really poor.

5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

10 years ago, I was watching my Potential and Opportunities dissolve and evaporate in an ocean of cheap gin and expensive whiskey.

But 5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

One of the exercises they had us perform was to imagine ourselves happy, 5 years in the future.

Many of us in that room had forgotten how to imagine nice things happening to them. A few snorted (well, I snorted), finding the notion that we’d even still be around in 5 years grimly humorous.

For about half of us, it was the last stop on the way down.

But I indulged the therapist. I was there, after all, because I did not want to die. So, I imagined myself, 5 years hence.

Happy.

It came to me all at once; an artistic remix on Norman Rockwell’s Freedom From Want, reframed with myself placing food at the table.

Sunday Dinner At My Place, I answered, when it came my turn to share my fantasy. I was asked what food I imagined eating.

It’s not the meal itself, I said, it’s the implications framed around it. Sunday Dinner At My Place means that I have a Place. It means that I have Family that will actually speak to me and friends who actually want to see me. It means money enough not just to feed myself but others too. It means having the time to spare to take the time preparing the meal.

A lot of nodding heads all around me. A struck chord. Many people with no Place, in that place. Nowhere that would lament their leaving.

5 years hence, as I lay down to sleep in my Home, with my Wife and my Son, surrounded by my Art and my Flowers, I reflect.

It was a long road. It was hard. We lost people. So many people. There were long days and long nights and hospital stays. Angry arguments with ghosts. I changed, in ways I never hoped for, or expected. Good ways, finally, for once. Slowly, against the backdrop of a world in chaos, I found my mind.

Sometimes, My Wife wondered aloud, what she did to deserve me. After some stumbling with my feelings, I eventually settled on an answer.

I’m a Rescue.

She gave me a Home.

And, so, I gave her a Family.

It seemed fair

This Sunday, my folks, which whom I have not had a shouting match in years, will come over for dinner. We will cook and eat together. My Friend became My Wife, and she took a piece of me and with it she made Our Son. There will be many hugs, and no violence. Good Things Happened.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you don’t know what the future holds.

don’t give up yet, ok?

It could get good, even.

@hopepunk-humanity

#please imagine this from the skunk's perspective #like you fall into an inescapable pit #and one of the fae creatures appears above you #at first it descends into the pit going super fast without moving its legs #horrifying #and then when you threaten it with your only real means of defense #(ass juice) #it tries to extend a part of itself to you #its strange feet that don't move #obviously you want no part of that #then it creates a spring out of nothing and allows you to drink #then it grabs a strange branch made of thin smooth rock #and a substance that feels slightly hollow #and it makes noises at you and keeps sticking the branch in your face until you bite #and then it tries to withdraw the branch dragging you with it #so you let go #but it just keeps doing this #until you suddenly realize it is trying to drag you out of the pit #so you hold on until you're at the lip #you probably expect it wants something when you reach the top #but you let go almost too soon #and you book it out of there #and somehow are expected to go back to living life like that never happened

@kedreeva your tags are a lovecraftian skunk tale