STAY SAFE!! [ID: the Gilbert Baker pride flag with the words “Happy pride to all those who are unable to celebrate openly and safely. You are loved and seen!” in all-caps black text over it. /end ID]
We're here, we're queer, we're really fucking tired so we're just gonna go straight to biting instead of feigning polite confusion if you're gonna be a bigot this time, just so you know.
you can download current and past hi-res versions of these over at my ko-fi (ok to print for personal use): https://ko-fi.com/mxmorgan/shop/freedownloads
you can also snag shirts here which go to various orgs: https://mxmorgan.threadless.com/collections/pride
these get reposted a whole lot from here to reddit to twitter to tiktok and on and on, and i don't personally care whether or not i'm credited. i made these for everyone to use, enjoy, and find meaning in them. i appreciate folks who do credit me, but if able, please at least link to the threadless shop in the previous post - folks can get an official shirt where 90% of earnings go to trans led orgs focused on mental health (which is an important matter in general, but very personal to me) and not from a scam bot site selling AI-churned maga garbage where you probably won't get one anyway. i also suggest downloading the files from my ko-fi - they are free/PWYW and you can use them to make your own shirt, patch, embroidery project, whatever. tips are always nice, cuz i do like a pizza now and then, but never required for download.
final thought - breaking the pride tradition and more than likely won't make a new piece. the top one from TDOV is all i'm making this year. i have my focus on other projects currently and i don't want to force a poster design. these came from a specific head space and my current head space is Very Tired lmao so i wanna work on other things. 👍
I set out the game pieces while Paint turned the game board so we four each had a side in front of us. She had the seat with the most sun on her scales, and was clearly enjoying it. Zhee adjusted the table with one pincher arm, making sure it was stable on the uneven ground. Kavlae complained.
“This wind is a menace, and the air smells like dirt,” she grumbled as she grabbed the instruction booklet before it blew away, holding her head frills back with a scowl. “Are you sure you don’t want to play inside the ship?”
Paint exclaimed, “It’s so nice out here!”
I said, “We can just weight things down. The actual game isn’t going anywhere.” I placed the last game piece, a pretty piece of carved blue stone, and moved the box aside. The breeze was really just a mischievous swirl of air, nothing to worry about.
“Dirt is to be expected,” Zhee said with a judgemental tilt of his antenna. “You may be surprised to find it all around you, even below your very feet. Shocking, I know. But it makes all this lovely flora possible.” He unfolded a pincher to wave at the overgrown landing pad, which was decorated with crystalline brambles that glittered in the sun.
Kavlae gave him a look. “Unsanitary,” she said, “and unnecessary.”
I shook my head with a rueful smile. “You missed out on a lot of fun growing up on a space station, you know. Stomping in mud puddles, getting grass stains on your knees — heck, even gardening. Was there any kind of garden there?”
“Of course,” Kavlae said. “With protective clothes and a hygiene station to keep at the dirt where it belonged.”
“Missing out,” I repeated. “All right, how do we play this game?”
Paint said, “You have to move your piece through the maze to different targets. I only played it the one time, but it was really fun.”
“Really complicated too,” Kavlae said as she unfolded the instructions. “Lemme find the rules of sabotage. Ugh, why did they have to use paper?” It fluttered in the breeze and resisted unfolding.
“No batteries,” I said.
“Purely to aggravate you,” Zhee said at the same time.
“Well, it’s doing a great job,” Kavlae griped. “Ow, voidsong!” She stuck a finger in her mouth.
“Are you okay?” Paint asked.
“Papercut?” I guessed.
“Yeth,” Kavlae replied to both.
I winced. “Ugh, those are the worst.”
She took her finger out to look at it. “Not too deep, at least. I’ve definitely had worse. Stupid gravityfailing paper.” She took a tiny sanitizing spray from a pocket and set about disinfecting it thoroughly, holding the instruction booklet down with her elbow.
Paint tilted her scaly head, staring at the offending crumple of paper. “That really doesn’t look like it should be able to cause bleeding,” she said in the careful tone of someone with scales who’d never dealt with that kind of nonsense personally.
“It really doesn’t,” I agreed. “But paper’s made of wood, and it’s stiff enough to be a blade when pulled at just the right angle.”
“Or the wrong one,” said Kavlae.
I nodded. “Yeah, the wrong one.” I turned to Paint. “Have you never gotten cut between your scales? Something sliding in at just the wrong spot?”
“Not something that I could tear apart by hand,” Paint said with an embarrassed laugh. “I mean, you’ve got to watch for kitchen knives and plant thorns and predators’ teeth, but…”
“Well, papercuts are horrible,” Kavlae said as she put the sanitizer away. “They look like nothing, but they’re deep enough to hit the nerves that say ‘Oh no, a major injury!’” She spread blue fingers in sarcasm. “An incredibly stupid way to be injured.”
Zhee said mildly, “And it leaves an unsightly mark.”
The three of us turned to look at him with his shiny purple exoskeleton, which no paper was likely to damage.
I told him, “That part’s not as important as the ow factor.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Zhee replied with a flick of an antenna.
Kavlae leaned on an elbow. “You’ve never gotten a minor injury in your life, have you? It’s either a cracked limb or nothing for you guys.”
“Untrue,” Zhee said. “Sand rash of the joints is very irritating. And eye injuries of all degrees are possible, plus other vulnerable areas.”
“Mm-hm,” Kavlae said skeptically. “But any little scrape is a matter of aesthetics. A papercut for you would be like somebody getting a ding on their shiny new shuttle.”
Paint snorted in laughter, then looked apologetic. “Sorry! But I saw a hovercar earlier that was exactly your color.”
Zhee held his head high in the face of our smiles. “Clearly owned by someone with the most impeccable taste.”
“Clearly,” I said through a grin. “Anyways, I believe we were going to play a game here. Who goes first?”
Kavlae shoved the instruction booklet across the table to me, and I gave the rules a once-over. The breeze behaved while we got things underway. Nobody else got a papercut. Kavlae was even winning, and looking happier about being out in the uncivilized natural world on our downtime.
Then something birdlike flew by with a screech like bending metal, and Kavlae flinched, sending her game piece tumbling off the table to roll under a bush.
“For the sake of sun-warmed hull creaks…”
“I’ll get it,” Paint volunteered, hopping down from her chair to peer into the snarl of crystal-sharp brambles. “Oh dear. Those are quite some thorns.”
Kavlae threw her head back dramatically. “Of course they are.”
I got up for a look. Paint wasn’t exaggerating; the crystal-clear thorns were as sharp as snake fangs. “Wow, yeah. I see it, though. Not too far in there. What do you think, Paint? Are your scales up to that?”
“Iiiiiiii would rather get a tool from the ship,” she said.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I definitely don’t want to stick an arm in. Unless someone with an exoskeleton wants to be the big hero?” I added, turning toward Zhee.
He didn’t move. “Those are silica thornbushes. I categorically refuse.”
Kavlae snorted. “Not gonna scratch the hovercar’s colorwork just for a game piece.”
“And just how permanent of a blemish would you risk, just for a game piece?” Zhee retorted. “If you weren’t going to simply cover it with decorative fabrics.” He waved a dismissive pincher at her clothes.
“You might look good in decorative fabrics; you should try it sometime.”
A quiet noise that I recognized as the engine of Wio’s hoverstool zipped up to stop near the ship. “Hey everybody, what are we arguing about?” she asked cheerfully. When I looked, she was already hopping down with a couple small shopping bags held in her tentacles.
“Papercuts,” Kavlae said.
“Who’s arguing?” Zhee asked.
“Minor injuries and fashion,” I said.
Paint pointed at the bush. “There’s a game piece stuck in the thorns!”
“That blue thing? I can grab it for you.” Wio set down her purchases and tentacle-walked over to simply flatten herself to the ground and reach into the maelstrom of thorns. After a moment of careful maneuvering, she wriggled her way back out like a master spy evading the sensors in a TV drama. She handed the game piece to Paint. “Here you go.”
“Thank you!”
I shook my head. “That’s definitely the best route for tiny cuts: not getting them in the first place.”
“Oh for sure; those would hurt,” Wio agreed. Another breeze gusted by, this one making the bushes shudder. “Hey Kavlae, I got that new expansion set for the dancing game. Wanna play?”
Kavlae perked up. “Yes! Indoors, where the civilized people live! You guys have fun without me.” She got to her feet and put the tokens she’d won so far back into the box.
Zhee moved his own game piece, sounding amused. “You realize she’s going to wipe the floor with you.”
Kavlae aimed double fingerguns at him. “Don’t care! Enjoy the obnoxious nature.”
“Oh, we will. Especially when I win this game.”
Kavlae and Wio bid us a cheerful goodbye and went into the ship, where a video game awaited that was far more suited to people with many tentacles to press all the buttons with. But they were both pilots, and thus good at pressing buttons, so I was sure Kavlae could hold her own.
And anyway, I had a different game and some obnoxious nature to enjoy.
“Three points for me,” said Zhee.
Paint put Kavlae’s game piece in the box and climbed back into her chair. “Do you smell that? I think there are spicenuts growing here!”
I smiled. “Maybe we can go on a nice nature walk in a bit. The rest of the game probably won’t take long.”
“Oh, it won’t,” Zhee said.
Paint agreed on both counts. We played a fast and entertaining game, surrounded by a breeze that stopped buffeting the instructions when I shoved them under the box, and which smelled both like exotic spices and dirt.
~~~
Good news! Volume One of the collected series is now available in paperback and ebook form! (Check your local store, or this handy link hub.)
~~~
These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.
Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.
The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).
if you'd like to show support, here are some upcoming queer books:
When Life Gives You Corpses is a brilliant YA about a cursed praying mantis who falls for a young witch. Yield Under Great Persuasion is a raunchy, but surprisingly sweet story of two men repairing their relationship. Fabulous Bodies is a horror story about a queer rockstar rising from the dead.
This is Where the Future Bleeds is a fantasy set in a vividly imagined land, where two women (who happen to kiss) are the key to healing the broken sky. You're No Better is a story about a teen struggling in the shadow of his murderous parent. Oil on Canvas is about a woman who finds disturbing paintings in the home of her dead mother.
and then here's a list of 26 queer books by Black authors set to publish this year, and a 10 upcoming books by trans authors. if you want to fight back against queer censorship, use your wallet! or (if that's not an option) you can contact your local library and ask them to stock a copy.
There’s something about Fran @crazygnomenclature and good timing that’s impossible to ignore.
I'm Still Alex - Webtoon | Tapas | Linktree | Patreon
The general idea for this strip was planned out quite a while in advance, and it mulled around until pride month was about to begin.
Earlier this week, Fran sent me a video of some rainbow shoes she got. They’re cool!
A day or two later, I mentioned the next comic would be about Rainbow Capitalism, and she responded with, “Looking forward to see that after showing you my new sneakers, lol”
I hadn’t figured out exactly what the words for this strip would be yet, but her statement sparked the idea for the introduction.
Eleventh hour Fran from the top rope!
Regarding Rainbow Capitalism, I 100% get that some folks aren’t going to agree with me here, and that’s ok. But please consider leaning into cheering on the companies that celebrate pride month, and consider celebrating the ones that join in the future, even if they’re companies that have dropped it right now.
We need all the support we can get, and having pride being something seen as positive by as many folks as possible, corporate reasons or otherwise, is a win.
So wear those rainbow shoes! Get a rainbow bagel! Go to some pride events!
I’ll be volunteering myself at a couple local ones which I’m excited for!
If you’re safe and able, try to get involved, even a tiny bit!
Whether it’s volunteering, supporting local businesses or initiatives, being visible, etc, every little bit helps!
Okay I have things I should be seeing to but I couldn't help myself. In case you, like me, have not read all of these stories and would like to be amongst the lucky 10,000 today:
I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream by Harlan Ellison
The King in Yellow by Robert W Chambers*
The Lottery by Shirley Jackson**
The Masque of the Red Death by Edgar Allan Poe
The Monkey's Paw by W.W. Jacobs
The Most Dangerous Game by Richard O'Connell
The Nameless City by HP Lovecraft
The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas by Ursula K LeGuin
There Will Come Soft Rains by Ray Bradbury
The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman
The Veldt by Ray Bradbury
Honorable Mention from the comments/reblogs:
All Summer in a Day by Ray Bradbury
*note: this is actually a collection of short stories and clocks in at about 72k words
**Originally published in the New Yorker in 1948; interestingly, the New Yorker still has this story archived on their website BEHIND A PAYWALL. CAN YOU IMAGINE.
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