the most delicious thing about justice-anders is that anders has been running for so long. he’s never put down roots anywhere. “anders” isn’t even his name. he is convinced that letting himself care for anyone or anything is a death sentence, that it only stands to be ripped from him and that pain isn’t worth it.

enter justice, a friend, who is in love with the world anders has been locked in a mutual hatred of since he was a child. who asks for nothing but anders’s body (something he has always been willing to give), to borrow anders’s tenuous place in the world, and in return, anders has someone he can count on to stay, who cannot be separated from him no matter how hard anyone tries. no matter what either of them may want.

who are either of them to refuse, really

a look at donna troy’s photo album

The whole point of me telling this story is that I know that there’s always cameras everywhere now and I know this story will probably get out - but I want to tell any kid that is not living in New York City, that is not living in a diverse community, that’s maybe out in a small town somewhere that feels ashamed of the shape of their eyes or the color of their skin or who they feel attracted to naturally, that you are loved, that you have a group of people, that you have a community, even if it’s people that are out here in this room. And me speaking personally, that you are loved, and that there’s nothing wrong with you, and that it does get better, and to just hang in there. I know how hard it is to feel less than, but it does get better.

i am extremely suspicious of everyone who makes Rey the face of their complaints about tfa

Rey is a mary sue unlike simple farm boy greatest pilot last jedi son of the chosen one Luke Skywalker

i know youre joking but a person made this argument (worded differently but the same argument) to me irl

So my mom told me a story...

Growing up, my mom and her siblings would make banana bread every week.

Literally every week since the first one of them learned how to make it, they started making banana bread- lo and behold though, they liked it with walnuts and they all knew their dad hated walnuts.

So they made a special loaf of banana bread just for him every week, just for him to eat. Nobody else was allowed to eat it because that was his banana bread, baked especially for him.

So anyways, they did this once a week from middle school up until every last one of them moved out of the house (and considering there was at least 10 years difference from the oldest to the youngest, this was quite some time). So that’s like… 16 years of weekly banana bread. And he always finished it. He, without fail, ate the whole loaf of bread by himself.

That’s approximately 835 loaves of banana bread.

Now

Skip ahead a few years…

and they’re all visiting and baking banana bread and they start making a dad’s bread and their mom comes in, “I don’t think he can handle eating one more slice of banana bread!”

“What are you talking about? He loves banana bread! He had it all the time!”

This is when my grandma, their mom, broke the news that my grandfather loathed banana bread with every fiber of his being. He just adored that his kids loved him enough to make him a special loaf of banana bread every week (and he didn’t have the heart to tell them that he couldn’t stand banana bread) and he was incredibly, utterly upset that my grandma told the kids his big secret.

My grandfather was a loving, patient, gentle man who absolutely hated banana bread but loved his kids so much more and I just wanted to share that with you guys. I think this story is just about the perfect example of the kind of person he was.