There was an entire pantheon of things Rodney was willing to concede could exist, even though he’d never personally witnessed evidence thereof. Time travel, for starters. Space aliens. The perfect man. But he absolutely, positively could not accept that he’d been dreaming of a guy he’d never seen before in his life, who turned out to be real.

“The hell it is!” The man’s touch was cool even though his shirt, the way icy air seeped right through loose-weave fabric. “Okay… I’ve got to stay calm, think about this…” He winced. “I’m dreaming again, aren’t I? I mean, I must be, because you’re not real. You’re not even remotely possible. You don’t exist.”

And yet, here I am, all thanks to you. You saved me.

“John?” The name was a strangled whisper. Rodney could not bring himself to lay a hand on John in return, to throw off the grip and flee. Instead, he was captivated, sitting there trembling beneath the touch.

John broke into a smile that was all the more horrific for its fondness. I’ve been considering what you said, he pressed on, and it turns out you were right. I never thought I’d make it out of there, so I never gave any thought to what comes next. If you hadn’t brought me here, and let me stay with you, I… I don’t know what would have happened, but I’m certain it would have destroyed me.

Oh god, oh god… he had offered to let John stay with him. I’ll try if you will, he’d said, meaning that he and John could attempt to eke out new lives here, together. John was taking full advantage of his goddamned invitation.

John’s hand slid off his shoulder and down his arm, raising goosebumps in its wake. I’ve been watching you, you know. He shifted closer to Rodney, until their knees were pressed together. I like what I see, and I think we could be good together.

“Oh, fuck me! This is a dream, a very demented dream, and I need to wake up right now,” Rodney babbled.

For the past eight months, Chicago has served as the site of a pilot interreligious program designed to foster religious dialogue and understanding, using a resource most religious and spiritual communities already have at their fingertips—spaces to gather.

“At a time when hatred and violence erupts over religious differences internationally, [this] quiet collaborative effort in Chicago has forged alliances and fostered new friendships across religious lines”, said Rev. Dirk Ficca, executive director of the CPWR.

Chicago architect Suzanne Morgan, inspired by her work with liturgical architecture, served as the impetus of the program. Since mosques, churches, synagogues, and temples are in a sense a spiritual group’s “home,” sharing them would lend a sense of kinship and community not unlike when neighbors visit each other.

“Spaces become sacred through the meaning they have for their communities,” said Morgan. “Sharing that meaning can build bridges of trust and reduce social tension and cultural misunderstanding.”

tomlinsarse:

i’m about to cry

my brother told me that only today he found out that LGBT stood for les/gay/bi/trans instead of lettuce green bacon tomato

he looked at me and he had tears in his eyes and he said in the most horrified voice

i’ve been telling people i like LGBT sandwiches okay that means i’ve been having gay sandwiches

then he started to cry and ran off and yelled

they all think i’ve had gay threesomes!!!!!

i’m actually crying omg 

captainmjolnir:

Would if I could man

historicalslut:

homoviper:

(kristen refused to pose alone for them)

be mine

I don’t care if I hate the majority of the movies she has been in, she is badass.

triangularisthepie:

kiriamaya:

This was going to be a long post, but it really doesn’t need to be, because the thought I’m having is pretty simple:

I agree with Serano when she says that a major key to gender liberation is “work[ing] to empower femininity, in all its forms.” But I…