Happy Pride 2025. This post is 5 years old, and I’m in equal parts proud of it, and annoyed by how chaotic and tacky it is. So I’ve decided to make a new version: one where all the additions are in a single reblog, and with integrated image descriptions (thank you @oddler14 for providing most of these back then!). I would love it if people reblogged this version instead, even if I understand the previous version is much more widespread on Tumblr.
I am one of the people who, for a long time, didn’t feel queer enough. Specifically, as a nonbinary person, I struggled for a long time to believe I was trans enough to even deserve to label myself as trans. This post was the start of my journey unlearning that shame and guilt, which was caused in part by the gatekeepy rhetoric that was predominant in many online spaces. Today, I am confident and joyous in my trans, nonbinary, queer body and mind.
To my 20-year-old self, and to anyone else who might need to hear this: you are queer enough. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. And always, always remember:
(Yes, these banners are free to use. Credit is appreciated!)
The thing about 911 is that the shipping drama and discourse surrounding it completely belies how insane this show truly is. A man is attacked by a shark on the freeway. Ghosts are probably real, and so are curses. The most recent season opens with a bee-nado that segues into a plotline about an autistic half-orphan child landing a broken plan. The most dramatic moment between the fandom's favorite ship is one of the characters getting shot by a sniper in broad daylight in the suburban streets of Los Angeles. Buck's introductory scene of the entire show is him stealing a firetruck to have sex with a Tinder hookup. The fire captain's backstory is an addiction that led to the death of 148 people. He's best friends with his wife's ex-husband and once proposed to said ex-husband's boyfriend on his behalf while that boyfriend was performing brain surgery on a man in the middle of a burning building. There's a guy who sneezes every time he lies and then lies so hard he almost dies. One of the main characters gets rebar impaled through his skull and is back to work the next month with no lasting side-effects. They basically never fight fires.
buck is living such a rollercoaster lmao pls. he gets dumped by his boyfriend, his husband leaves (not before they bitchy fight for a sec), he rents his house, fucks his ex in it, is accused of being in love with his “””””straight””””” best friend, then said bestie calls him to tell him he might come back to sleep on his couch 🧍🏽♀️
The fact that in book two Draco not only knows who Colin Creevey is but is also SO bothered by him is really telling. Colin is in a different House AND a year below him. There's no reason for Draco to even know his name, let alone spend time ranting about him. Except of course for the Harry connection.
Pretty sure Draco immediately clocked anyone who had the vaguest whisper of a crush on Harry and immediately dedicated himself to despising them. Because who would FANCY Harry Potter? Not him obviously. How embarrassing would that be?
Also given that Harry certainly doesn't return Colin's feelings it parallels the bit in book 6 when Harry spends two paragraphs hating on Pansy because she had the audacity to look like she wanted to hold Draco's hand. They are both so Extra about each other. And in such deep denial.
this post's hypothetical by itself is already ridiculous but the thing that gets me is how the wording implies two very funny things that become funnier in tandem
1. "Accidentally, the pitcher tosses a Christian baby" means this is a mistake on the pitcher's part. i imagine the pitcher is breastfeeding on the field and they pitch and they look down at their hands and they see the ball still in the glove and they go "fuck"
[ID: a result list for canonical ao3 tags with the letter F, all of which are variations on threesome, foursome, and fivesome, except for the John F. Kennedy Assassination. End ID]
No im not “grieving” Buddie, do you know how amazing it is to have queer/bisexual men representation in today’s media? Do you know how important it is for all of the community and the younger people watching this? This is a huge milestone and Buck’s sexuality is valid outside of any type of ship. Today we celebrate.
once buck comes out and settles into a relationship with tommy i’m sure they’re inevitably going to hang out with eddie at some point and i’m lowkey curious about which one of them will feel like the third wheel because somehow all three of them fit the bill for that
OBSESSED with the fact that supernatural is trending because a character came out as bi ON A DIFFERENT SHOW! hilarious. Supernatural you will always be famous
By: manixzen
Stiles Stilinski / Derek Hale
Rated: G
Written for the Teen Wolf AU Fest ( @twaufest )
Week 3: Garden Gnomes
Summary: Stiles just wants to enjoy his backyard in peace. His new neighbor seems hell-bent on ruining that—mostly with his creepy taste in garden decor.
Read on AO3
Read a preview below the cut!
“Stop being a stalker and leave your new neighbor alone.”
“I’m not being a stalker! I’m in my own house; I can’t be a stalker from inside my living room.” Stiles puts his phone on speaker and balances it on the window ledge so that he can more easily pull down just a single blind. “I just don’t get it. It doesn’t make sense.”
Stiles hears the clanking of a cage opening and mewing sounds as Scott huffs on the other end of the line. “Gardening is a perfectly normal hobby.”
“It’s not the gardening—it’s the gnomes! They are creepy!”
“They’re cute.”
“They are not cute. They are weird little demon statues waiting to take your soul.”
Scott sighs. “You really should lay off the b-horror movies. A couple of months ago, you were convinced that werewolves were surrounding your house.”
The blind snaps back into place as Stiles releases it to pick up his phone and glare at it. “In my defense, there were glowing eyes just past the fence line.”
“Yes, that family of raccoons was very scary.” Scott doesn’t even sound mocking. He sounds like he’s placating a small child.
Stiles sets the phone back down and carefully pulls the single blind back down. His eyes narrow as they land on two garden gnomes stare back at him from the other side of the chain-link fence. He wonders how long it would take tall shrubs to grow if he planted them along his side of the fence. They wouldn’t help with the view from his upstairs bedroom window, but then he wouldn’t have to see the creepy gnomes from his kitchen, living room, and backyard. Of course, then he also wouldn’t get to see his very attractive neighbor doing all that sweaty landscape work either. It really is a no win situation.
“It just doesn’t make sense. He barely says ‘hi.’ He’s always glaring and broody and is in a perpetual bad mood. Shouldn’t he have… I don’t know… like angry garden decorations?”
“Angry garden decorations?” Scott’s voice sounds further away, and there’s more kitten mewing. Stiles wonders briefly if there’s another abandoned litter he can come cuddle soon, but he refocuses. He needs validation, damn it!
Stiles huffs loudly. “I don’t know—whatever garden decorations dark broody people have! Probably none. That would be more normal, right? It should be, like, plain and boring to go with his resting murder face! Ugh—he’s the worst.”
“Is this because he doesn’t talk to you?”
“No.” Stiles glares at the garden through the small slit.
Scott sighs again.
“It wasn’t like I was talking to him all the time! I was just trying to introduce myself. Be a good, friendly neighbor! Whatever. It’s fine—I get it. He’s all Adonis levels of hot, and probably has all hot, cool friends, and doesn’t need to be friendly with his dorky neighbor. And it’s great, really. I can go outside and have some peace and quiet without someone constantly trying to talk to me about their roses. He can do his thing and I can do my thing.”
His neighbor’s house sits around the patio and garden in an L-shape, so that the patio partially faces Stiles’s property. With his last neighbor, the layout was the source of much annoyance. Mrs. Milpeper insisted on talking to him every time he was in his own backyard, acting like it was just an extension of her own space. Even if he had friends over or was on the phone (and once on a work Zoom call), she’d start up a conversation with Stiles. She was a nice lady, but Stiles really didn’t want to have to talk to her every time he went outside in his own backyard. She’d even wave to him when she’d catch sight of him in his kitchen or living room windows.
Then the new guy moved in and Stiles spent a good few days thrilled at the garden layout, especially when he realized that Derek liked to work on his yard shirtless. Stiles finally mustered up the courage to go over to the fence line to introduce himself, but all he got was a muttered name, Derek, a quick nod, and a look that could curdle milk before the man went right back to shoveling a large hole that later turned out to be for a Japanese Maple. Stiles hovered at the fence line, his face heating up before awkwardly turning and going back into his house. He’s been avoiding his backyard since.
“Plus, that’s not even the issue. It’s not about him not talking to me. It’s about the gnomes! Serial killers shouldn’t have flowery backyards with happy creepy garden gnomes. They should have bare patches of grass, and, like dubious-looking sheds and shit. And maybe a door that looks like it goes to an underground bunker.”
“Let me see if I’ve got this straight…” There’s some shuffling and then the whine and clash of a metal crate shutting. “You would be okay if your new ‘serial killer neighbor’—” The sarcasm is loud and clear. “—put a shed and an entrance to a bunker in his backyard, but because he’s planting flowers and putting out garden gnomes, you’re suspicious?”
“Creepy garden gnomes,” Stiles corrects.
“Sure.”
“Whatever.”
“If they bother you that much, get a privacy fence.”
“Those are expensive. I looked into those after Mrs. Milpeper interupted my one and only date in the last year, remember?”
Scott makes a sound that Stiles interprets as he’s either lost interest in the conversation or has moved onto a more difficult task with an animal. Stiles should probably let him go so that he can do whatever vets do all day.
He stares for another minute at the stupid gnome faces with their stupid grins. “I should just turn them around. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.”
“Stiles. Do not go into your neighbor’s yard.”
“They’re probably sentient anyways. Maybe he’ll think they moved on their own.”
“If they are sentient wouldn’t that be a good reason to not touch them?”
“Ugh. Fine. I should probably let you go anyway.”
“Sure,” Scott chuckles. “Good talk.”
“Whatever, man. I’ll see you Saturday. You know, unless I’m killed by sentient evil gnomes before then.”
“See you Saturday, Stiles.”
Stiles doesn’t move to hang up, letting Scott end the call. He stares at the gnomes for another minute and then finally releases the blind. It snaps into place with a click as he grabs his phone and heads over to the sofa. With a sign, he plops down on it and grabs the remote. After a minute of flipping through the horror options in his queue, he settles for one about a giant lizard paralyzing people in a small town. It’s still less creepy than those stupid gnomes.
Tumblr adding polls was the best thing because it doesn’t matter what you’re asking, tumblr users LOVE sharing their opinions. You could ask something wildly abstract like “What cardinal direction do you associate with the person you reblogged this from?” and by the end of the day it’ll have 20k notes and there’s probably some kind of discourse happening in the replies.
