#After thirteen years on this hellsite

[addicted-obsessed]

thank you berklie and thank you dean winchester 🖤

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

The Cishet 1990s American Father-Son Movie, Good Omens triggered.

For those who are confused, @howmanyholesinswisscheese made a heartbreaking Good Omens post. Read it and weep.

The reblogs however degenerated into a Cishet Father-Son saga, since you maggots are all my adoptive parents. Here is a more polished version of my latest contribution to the hellsite.

[Opening credits play over highly saturated, sundrenched midwest farmland. Bob Dylan's Sara plays and the title appears as the camera slows to a halt in front of a sprawling house.]

[TITLE: Farewell, Iowa, We'll Meet Again, a Gus Van Sant film]

Art 'Greeny' Matthews, a man who does an honest day's work in the farm and is pretty darn proud of it, wanders through his house. His wife Darlene just left him (hence the opening song), and he is faced with the prospect of raising his only son, a ten year old lad Asmond 'Mond' Matthews, on his own.

Greeny takes Mond along with him as he works in the farm on holidays, riding in the tractor. Mond cries about Darlene, who didn't even leave a note, the hussy, and Greeny comforts him as much as he can. "It'll be alright, son," Greeny says on Mond's eleventh birthday, as they sit in the stable with a badly made cake on the wobbly stool. "Just you and me, eh? Not bad!"

"I hate chocolate," Mond whispers miserably, and the birthday party ends in more tears.

When Mond is thirteen, he starts to grow more closed with his emotions, just helping his dad around the farm. They're making a huge profit, and Greeny has business deals and free time, and makes an effort to bring Mond along to golf games and such. Mond is being bullied in school for being caught writing poetry, but he refuses to tell his dad why he comes home with a black eye every other week.

"I'm always here if you want to talk over a game of catch, son," Greeny tries one day. "No thanks, dad," Mond says, and wanders away into the stable. At fourteen, Greeny tries to bring him on fishing trips to discuss his feelings, as they used to do back when Darlene lived with them. Mond swallows, but shakes his head.

Finally, Mond can't keep it from him anymore, and when Greeny finds out, he goes into a rare fit of temper. "Just like your mother, boy!" he says, hand rattling his mug of ale. "A wanderer and a careless fool, that's what you'll turn out to be! There ain't no place in this world for people livin' in their heads."

Mond doesn't write poetry anymore.

As Mond grows, though, he helps out more with the farm, and they bond over hopes for future profit, and joking about golf, which they both find pretentious. "C'mon, champ, let's go play golf," Greeny says while they watch suited businessmen make their way to the house, out of place amidst the yellow-green farmland. "What's your favourite golf club?"

"That a literal club, or the thing they whack the ball with, dad?" Mond responds, and Greeny chortles. "I taught you better than that, son."

He has high hopes for Mond, he will take over the farm. Greeny is growing weary of his duties, he married late and had Mond even later.

[Montages of sunlight days ensue, intercut with shots of Mond, who always has a melancholic air about him. His mother was a dancer, and that rebellious spirit, so long dormant, is beginning to stir as he enters his twenties.]

On his twenty-first birthday, Greeny has baked him a cake, not chocolate. Mond barely sees it. His father doesn't know him. Not really. Not at all. When Greeny says he is handing over the farm to him, and starts to give him instructions about the responsibilities, Mond has had it.

He picks up the rucksack he's been storing by the umbrella stand for weeks, and shoulders it as Greeny pauses mid-lecture. "I'm sorry, dad," Mond says. "I'm going away to be my own man. This was your dream. Not mine."

Greeny is too frozen to stop him.

[Knockin' on Heaven's Door by Bob Dylan plays with another montage]

Mond travels the States, far from home and Iowa, and after a year of struggle finally publishes his first anthology of poetry. Hoping to make his dad proud, he sends a letter home asking if it imperative he return, since he's too ashamed to say he wants to. The reply is a brief but polite no from the housekeeper, saying his father wishes him well but does not require that he return. Assuming Greeny wants nothing to do with him, Mond stays away, bitter and homesick.

He is called home a few months later, and when he arrives, he is met not with Greeny, but with the housemaids and farmhands in black, and the housekeeper teary-eyed as she guides him to the back garden and a lonely gravestone. Greeny, heartbroken by his son leaving the same way Darlene his wife did all those years ago, declined in health, but he kept up the farm till the end, all ready for Mond should he want it after all, and for the head farmer if he didn't.

Mond, still carrying his book hoping to have shown his dad at last, stares in shock at the gravestone. He thinks even at the end Greeny did not know him, thought he would want the farm. Until he reads the inscription. Art 'Greeny' Matthews, friend to all, loyal husband, and most of all, proud father of a poet.

His father knew, Mond realised. His father knew what he'd been doing.

"Are ya proud, dad?" Mond whispers, dropping the book and kneeling down before the stone. "Are ya proud? It was all for you."

[The camera pulls back to show the farmland, scattered with people in black going about their work because business stops for no one, and a solitary figure by the gravestone. Bob Dylan's Blowin' in the Wind plays as the end credits roll.]

"How many roads must a man walk down, before you call him a man?

How many seas must a white dove sail, before she sleeps in the sand?"

The end.

@howmanyholesinswisscheese The challenge has been issued.

[cultbunny]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN !

NAME ? mads, or maddie !

PRONOUNS ? she / her .

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION ? tumblr ims or on dis.cord ( which you can always ask me for ! )

MOST ACTIVE MUSE ? i've just got nessa here on this blog, but out of the three muses i write for here on tumblr, i'd actually probably say charlie has the most goin' on .

EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS ? i've been writing my entire life, as long as i can remember i wanted to be a writer, i've been roleplaying on tumblr for just about thirteen years, and before that i was writing fiction fantasy about faeries and mermaids on myspace bulletin boards .

BEST EXPERIENCE ? oh god so many honestly ! i've been doing this for so long that i have so many fun and sweet stories from all across the tumblr rpc that still bring a smile to my face. meeting so many new, interesting, dynamic writers and getting to share in this hobby with everyone has honestly just been a real treat !!

RP PET PEEVE ? i honestly want to leave this one blank because i don't really have one ?? lmao ??? i am an extremely understanding and forgiving person when it comes to this Broken Blue Hellsite we call home, so as long as you're nice to me, we're ace

PLOTS OR MEMES ? honestly, memes ! i like working off of chemistry and going with the flow of things and the Vibe of things based on what i send and get sent, but i know that isn't always everyone's preference, so i'm happy to do both

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES ? i really do try to make my replies as long as i can, but after i push publish i will realize that it's an itty bitty reply and i feel a little bad lmao but i prefer longer ones !

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSES ? honestly, every one of the characters i write has a little bit of me in them. like vanessa, she's got that part of me that strives to be something bigger than she's ever been, a desire to make the most out of her life, a fear of being average. but she's also been as fun as she's been to write because she makes a lot of mistakes and choices i know i wouldn't, and that's one of the best parts about this whole thing tbh !!

TAGGED BY ? on the low by @trapton TAGGING ? you , reading this , if you haven't already done it !

[leahazel]

10 year hellsite-versary

It's after midnight for me, but apparently, the 25th was this blog's 10 year anniversary. Of course, I had another Tumblr account before this one, so it's not really like I've been on the site ten years. It's actually been more like thirteen years, I think. Which is weird, because switching usernames felt like such a big deal, back then.

[jazzforthecaptain]

Just got the notice that I've been on this hellsite for 13 years as of today.

I could be flip about it. It certainly makes me feel dusty. But it also makes me thoughtful. I started this blog about a year before I actively used it. It was supposed to be a roleplay advice blog, which I was invested in at the time.

Thankfully I stopped, after I wised up quickly enough to understand the deepest truth about roleplay, fandom, fanfiction, what have you - I don't know shit.

I mean I don't know shit.

There are vastly more ways to play and tell collaborative stories than my meager experience allows, and every partner, every forum, every table needs something different. Which is fine. I think my need to be an advice giver came out of my all-consuming need to be needed. I honor that person, but I no longer want to be that person anymore. She was exhausted.

Thirteen years is a pretty long time for a social media account. Especially on this platform, which seems to have reinvented itself three or four times, culturally, since I got here. Let me tell you, I've seen some shit. And I don't have any advice for you, just encouragement.

You're doing great. We both are. It's okay if we don't know shit. That means there's plenty to learn.

[twistnet]

twistnet’s five year anniversary

going to pin this for a while, so if you’re looking for the navigation ⇢ go here

“ellie, i think somethings wrong with shimmer...”

this is a small requesting event to celebrate my fifth year being on this hellsite. a big thank you to anyone who’s managed to stick around with me this long, or had recently just joined me on this wild adventure. please enjoy to your hearts content!

⋯

SEND ME A ARTIFACT FROM THE LIST UNDER THE CUT and i’ll write you an imagine with a character of your choice! each artifact has a small prompt to go along with it, and if you played either of the tlou games, you may recognize some of the listed artifacts

RULES — please read through; rules not followed = request being denied

example ask — [ can i please request riley’s pendant with matt casey and a female reader? ]

general blog rules apply; please read before requesting ⇢ rules

specify gn!reader or female!reader; default is gender neutral

please state character’s full name when requesting

a character can only be requested twice! for example -- matt casey can only take up two separate prompts; no more than that!

prompts are first come, first serve ⇢ there are 30 slots [ listed under cut ]

please read the bonus listed on some of the prompts; you have the option to add those in

as a prompt is taken, it will be crossed out ⇢ i will answer asks as they come in to verify placement

FANDOMS — arcane, csi miami, dazed and confused, marvel, mayans, narcos, one chicago, prodigal son, resident evil, riverdale, soa, star wars, stranger things, swat, tlou & 911 ⇢ any of the characters on my fandom + character list

EVENT OFFICIALLY CLOSED

⋯

ONE. riley’s pendant  [ ellie williams ] ⇢ your lover can’t help but look at the ring on your finger; “i can’t believe you’re really mine”

TWO. joel’s watch [ antonio dawson ] ⇢ your lover gives you something to remember them by

THREE. sam’s robot [ tig trager ] ⇢ your lover comes across an old childhood toy of yours while unpacking a box in your first house together 

FOUR. walkman [ jim hopper ] ⇢ listening to your favorite music with your lover -- bonus; you provide your favorite for them to listen to

FIVE. switchblade [ chris alonso ] ⇢ your lover finds a knife in your bag / pants pocket; chaos ensues

SIX. joel and sara photo [ ethan choi ] ⇢ you and your lover take pictures in a photobooth to mark the end of an amazing first date

SEVEN. no pun intended [ adam ruzek ] ⇢ you tell your lover a joke, which results in them laughing so hard they begin crying

EIGHT. lab recorder [ steve harrington ] ⇢ your lover listens to a voicemail you left them on their phone -- bonus; you can pick angst or fluff

NINE. tess’ list [ nathan drake ] ⇢ you send your lover to the store with a list of things to get, they end up bringing home more than you had asked for -- bonus; they got a few things because they knew you’d like it

TEN. wanted poster [ jay halstead ] ⇢ your lover accidentally stumbles across your arrest record -- bonus; they are surprised because you are the sweetest person they know

ELEVEN. savage starlight comic [ eddie munson ] ⇢ you show your lover your favorite book / comic and somehow manage to get them hooked on it -- bonus; they totally started reading it because they wanted something to talk to you about

TWELEVE. engraved ring [ dmitri antonov ] ⇢  your lover proposes to you in the heat of the moment; this wasn’t how they planned it going at all

THIRTEEN. map of seattle [ matt casey ] ⇢ you and your lover go on vacation, and your lover insists the two of you aren’t lost 

FOURTEEN. street drawing [ steve harrington ] ⇢ you find your lover’s drawings / paintings of you 

FIFTEEN. raul’s olive branch [ hondo harrelson ] ⇢ you or your lover apologize after a fight

SIXTEEN. programme for cassandra [ victor tan ] ⇢ you and your lover go to see a late night movie

SEVENTEEN. tara’s invitation [ evan buckley ]  ⇢ you go to stay at your lover’s place after learning you are unable to stay at your own -- bonus; you get to pick why

EIGHTEEN. join wlf note [ hunter ] ⇢ you or your lover are apart of an underground resistance, and it’s one of your jobs to recruit the other -- bonus; can be au or canon depending on the character chosen 

NINETEEN. pharmacy note [ jim street ] ⇢ you or your lover come down with a sickness, and one of you runs to the store to get them anything they could possibly need

TWENTY. bookstore note [ brian zvonecek ] ⇢ you or your lover reassures the other of their love after a bout of self-consciousness

TWENTY-ONE. arcade flyer [ peter parker ] ⇢ you and your lover go to the arcade -- bonus; you pick who beats the other’s high score

TWENTY-TWO. strange artifact [ malcolm bright ] ⇢ your lover gifts you something odd they found at a secondhand store simply because “it reminded me of you” -- bonus; you get to pick the item 

TWENTY-THREE. hospital supply list [ erin lindsay ] ⇢ you or your lover end up in the hospital after doing something idiotic -- bonus; you get to pick what happened

TWENTY-FOUR. zoo holiday brochure [ kelly severide ] ⇢ you and your lover go to the zoo -- bonus; your kid(s) convinced you to go 

TWENTY-FIVE. prayer for victory [ carlos oliveira ] ⇢ you or your lover suffer an injury, and no one knows if you are going to make it out alive

TWENTY-SIX. failed truce [ jay halstead ] ⇢ you or your love fall out of love with the other -- bonus; the person you now love is something the both of you know

TWENTY-SEVEN. survivor plea [ jay halstead x kim burgess ] ⇢ you or your lover is in danger, and the other would do anything to make sure they are safe again. even at the risk of their own life

TWENTY-EIGHT. young seraphite’s journal [ connor rhodes ] ⇢ your lover finds an old journal of yours full of love confessions and odd secrets you held onto from before the two of you began dating

TWENTY-NINE. rattler’s note [ rafe adler ] ⇢ you find out your lover did something horrible -- bonus; you get to pick what they did and whether you forgive them

THIRTY. runaway warning [ sam drake ] ⇢ you or your lvoer go missing, and it’s up to the other to find them and bring them home -- bonus; you pick angst or fluff for ending

happy requesting! tagging some mutuals!

@libraryofloveletters​​ // @blathannabeaga​ // @nightlywords7​ // @mirabee​ // @purplerain85​ // @cherieann-2001​ // @shebemyne​ // @leopardprinthearts​ // @ggrayyxx​ // @wanderlust-and-poetry​ // @burgstead​ // @halsteadswhore22​

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 297

ScoobyNatural

“ScoobyNatural”

I cannot tell you how happy I am that this ridiculous premise of an episode gets its own day

Plot Description: in this special animated episode, Sam, Dean, and Castiel are sucked into a Scooby-Doo cartoon and help the gang investigate a mysterious phenomenon

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: sure? The only thing that died was a giant dinosaur plushie

The fact that Dean even knows who Elsa (from Frozen) is…fantastic

He’s SO PROUD of his little Dean-cave. It does have just about everything he loves. I think just a stripper pole is missing, but he doesn’t really bring anyone back to the bunker for that purpose

(Megumi is loudly judging me for being excited for Dean’s excitement)

This is the stupidest concept they’ve done. I’m obsessed with it. It’s written (so far) exactly like a thirteen year old’s fanfic (affectionate), and I can say that because I did write fanfic at that age.

Dean’s so defensive of Scooby…and yet he’ll then say Cas is kind of like their talking dog. I hope you eat those words, Dean

Yikes on bikes. Did you have to go into how Scooby’s southern colonel benefactor died? I didn’t need to hear Fred Jones say that ANYONE died of cancer. That breaks the old cartoon illusion of Scooby Doo

You might as well act like you’re in a cartoon, Sam……because you are. Dean’s got the spirit, piling up a sandwich at least a foot and a half high and somehow being able to fit it in his mouth

Dean says he has a crush on Daphne, but he’s SO ANGRY about Fred’s whole existence

You say the Scooby gang is pure and good and then immediately try to sleep with Daphne…I get that this is like your one chance ever to do that but come on. Don’t worry though, you’ll be bunking with Fred instead

Daphne, don’t be silly. Velma’s gay, she’s not into Sam

(The family and friends named in this colonel’s will have to stay the night in the family mansion in order to split $1 million……….oh, and the mansion is haunted 😉)

Oh. People are gonna DIE die in the cartoon. That’s not good

I’m OBSESSED with how protective of Scooby Dean is. He literally doesn’t care if him or Sam die, Scooby could die! And that’s not gonna happen on his watch. He’d, and I quote, “take a bullet for that dog.”

Ok Sherlock Dinkley. I get it’s in the public domain but did you have to do the WHOLE “once you eliminate the impossible…” line?

Cas returning to the bunker and announcing what he’s been through without an audience and in such a normal cadence is so out of character. Barely feels like Cas at all

SO YOU ARE TELLING ME THAT CASTIEL GOT ZAPPED INTO THE CARTOON AT THE EXACT MOMENT THAT DEAN WAS RANTING ABOUT FRED’S PERFECT HAIR AND CAN DO ATTITUDE. I cannot.

Pffffffffffffffffffft, after finding a different would be beneficiary dismembered, the gang is splitting up to search for clues, and Dean’s teamed up with Daphne and Fred. Don’t lie, THIS is your real dream

Castiel, Shaggy, and Scooby on a team is ideal, though. It’s objectively the funniest

The comphet is real for Velma

I love them playing into old cartoon tropes like “object that will be used is colored differently than the rest” and then making Dean look like an idiot for trying to point it out

WHY DOES THAT BOOK OPEN A TRAP DOOR WITH CHUTES UNDERNEATH???

I’m so glad Dean gets to do the “running in and out of different rooms in one hallway while the theme song plays.”

Omg I thought they were actually about to kill off Shaggy…but does Scooby jumping out the window to save him disqualify Scoob from his inheritance?

No, instead, the boys shattered the Scooby gang’s reality by telling them that ghosts and vampires and demons are all real

I can’t wait for them to hand Shaggy a shotgun full of salt rounds….aww, damn. They won’t. Sam did try to give one to Velma, as though she wouldn’t lose her glasses and misfire

I take it all back. This is actually the BEST episode of supernatural. I keep laughing so hard I end up coughing, waking up and annoying Megumi

Why would the very real ghost fall through the trap door??

Only Castiel could get that take away from hanging out with Shaggy and Scooby

I love that Dean’s so happy that all this happened.

DEAN. You do not need to start wearing an ascot because it’s something Daphne likes in a man. You’re not gonna see her again

I can’t believe that they solved a real estate mystery in the real world that also had a real ghost

Of COURSE they said the meddling kids line but I was not expecting Jensen’s Scooby impression after it

Omg Sam and Cas’s reaction to Dean doing that. Like they could have ended the episode after Dean did that but it’s SO MUCH BETTER to have Sam embarrassed-ly ask Dean why he did that, have Dean explain that that’s how Scooby Doo episodes end, and have Cas remind him “Dean, you are not a talking dog”

Now, if I could rearrange things so this is what i would have watched on Halloween, I would…but I’m not doing this next year

[mxmoth]

I mean you can block rp blogs from reblogging from you, but in the end you don't own the content you're making (you don't have the rights to anything from the WWE) so we can just save it and post it up on our own blogs without the credit to you.

After thirteen years on this hellsite I've finally achieved the final and most important milestone: Baby's First Anon Hate. I'm so proud, I may shed a tear. I may bake a cake!

Anyway, it's nothing personal. I block all RP blogs, regardless of fandom. They're not for me, and it keeps the already ridiculously messy tags and search results from being even more ridiculously full of things that aren't relevant to my blogging experience.

If it upsets you that much, open up Invidio and Canva and make the GIFs yourself. Then you can do whatever you want with them. 😘✌️

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

You're the first Donna Anti I've seen on this hellsite. (Tho the Suits following is pretty small from what I've seen.) I liked her okay up until The Kiss. Had to give up on her after that.

Okay first of all, I love how you capitalized it and referred to it like that, because it reminds me of how the Potter fandom refers to The Prank from the Marauder era. We all know, we can all well remember. And yeah, I'm 100% down for this incident being immortalized the same way, because what even was that.

I honestly gave up on D*rvey ever happening or being interesting when Donna went back to work for Harvey, because it basically undid all of the growth their relationship went through in Season 5. So when Donna kissed him I just kind of thought, "Huh, so they're finally doing this." But then it still took another season and a half to get there. Like, I just figured it was the will they/won't they finally answering with the "they will" that was inevitable at that point, but instead, we got...the kiss storyline. See, the kiss itself isn't what bothers me the most. What bothers me...is the scene where they talk it out. How Donna reacts when confronted. (A lot of grumbling lies ahead.)

Now, to be fair, this is coming off the tails of Harvey letting his anger out during a meeting, but still. First, Harvey calls Donna selfish, and then she says what she always says, which is "You have some nerve saying that to me, when you know I have put you first for years." Like...actions speak louder than words, Donna, and you really love to say that, usually whenever you fuck up. Which happens a lot. Even if I do believe that statement, It has nothing to do with her kissing Harvey, because that was selfish. She claims that she "needed to know." No, you didn't. What you needed to do was respect Harvey's relationship and boundaries.

"Our lines have been clear for a long time." Is a pretty clear statement, but then Donna just ignores it and says that their lines are blurry. Like, no, maybe yours are, but Harvey seems to disagree, so instead of listing off a bunch of aspects of your friendship, none of which are inherently romantic except maybe the claim that "we flirt" why don't you try to figure out where the miscommunication happened? These two are supposed to be best friends, and it's been thirteen years. Oh and, not too long ago, Donna pushed Harvey to consider becoming more than friends and when he was reluctant, she went to work for Louis! Since then, he has entered a relationship with another woman. What did Donna think was going to happen?

But that's okay, because she actually doesn't want to be with Harvey. Are you freaking kidding me? She kisses him without his consent, and then decides she doesn't have feelings for him? What kind of emotional manipulation is that? What if Harvey had decided he wanted to be with Donna instead of Paula after that kiss, and dumped her as a result? What if he'd dumped Paula out of guilt? Or told her, and then she dumped him out of anger? Or she didn't dump him, but it caused a lot of anger and tension they had to work through. Or what if Harvey decided to keep it a secret and felt terrible guilt for doing so? And all because Donna couldn't sort her feelings out on her own. I like how she says "I didn't feel anything when I kissed you, so you can relax if that's what you're worried about." Yeah, because this is about your feelings, Donna. That's what matters right now.

Ultimately, Harvey does seem to go for one of the options I listed. He points out that he feels like he has to keep this from Paula, Donna says to just go ahead and tell her, because he didn't do anything wrong. For someone who always claims to be inhumanly smart, she really does live in a fantasy world. Paula didn't see the kiss, she doesn't know what happened, and Harvey and Donna have always been close. Of course she'll be upset. I also don't like how it comes out that Harvey felt something during the kiss. "It did affect you, didn't it?" Donna, no, stop, that's not even close to being any of your business, and it so, so not the point. "That's not the same as feeling something." You're not the one who decides that Donna, Paula is! How is it that she's steered the conversation to being about this instead of, y'know, what she's done wrong?

Harvey finally spells it out for her, something she ought to have implicitly known since...well, honestly since before she carried out this stupid idea. That by kissing him while he's in a relationship, Donna forced him into a situation where he felt like he cheated on his girlfriend, and there's nothing in the world Harvey would hate more than that. That was Donna, Harvey's supposed best friend, his eventual wife (gag) putting him in that position, that she knows (or should know) damn well is going to hurt him worse than anything. She knows about his issues with infidelity. She knows how far back they go. She has watched him end previous relationships because of situations like this in the past! In what universe did she think that wouldn't be a problem? And when Harvey calls her out on this...Donna just kind of...ignores it. She downplays it.

She remarks that it was just a kiss. (Y'know, that thing that almost tore Mike and Rachel apart?) Which...again, Donna, Paula is the only one who gets to decide how serious this is. She reminds Harvey that they've done more than kiss in the past...which has nothing to do with the current situation either. She then asks if Harvey has told Paula that they slept together, and that is likewise none of her business. (Semi-irrelevant question, did Harvey not tell Paula about his past with Donna during their therapy sessions? Seems like the kind of thing that would have come up.) When she realizes that he hasn't told her, Donna offers one final middle finger by suggesting that Harvey shouldn't be mad at her, that it's his fault for not telling Paula that he slept with Donna thirteen years ago. Just...Harvey does bite back that he doesn't want her advice, but the moment she even said "If you want my advice" I just shook my head at the screen. Like, no. Stop. You have completely misunderstood the situation and utterly failed to take responsibility for this betrayal. You are trash, Donna Paulson. Glitzy, fancy trash.

She's not evil. She's not even really an asshole most of the time, the way so many of the characters on this show can be. But she oversells herself to an astounding degree, and for whatever reason the characters keep buying - so to that effect, it feels like the show itself is overselling Donna, which makes her flaws that much more pronounced. She's arguably the biggest screwup in the cast. I could make full rant posts like this one about The Liberty Rail fiasco, about the document that she shredded, about the time she broke privilege. But go on, Donna. Tell me more about how kissing Harvey was "one mistake, in thirteen years." Y'know, she's a much more realistic kind of annoying, and I sort of like that? But I also don't like what a karma houdini she is, how self-absorbed she acts. "The Donna" storyline almost felt like parody for that reason, but no...that was a plot-line in the show, that actually existed and aired, and we were meant to take it seriously. Like...wow...

[boneandfur]

Time After Time 2/2

TWO

Note: the characters demanded smut. There is a link to the NSFW version on ao3 at that point. tumblr won’t let me load the moodboard. I’m very frustrated with this hellsite.

Women aren't doctors at the Front, Miss... what did you say your name was again? Ah, Miss Valentine. American. That explains it... But we do need good quality nurses... You'll be sent to France right away on account of your prior training... Jolly good, just sign the dotted line... 

"I assume you'll have the watered wine, Rookie." Ramsay leans across the table, lightly tugging the menu from Helena's numb fingers. Every little boom makes her shiver, though she's adopted the English habit of keeping a stiff upper lip. Her grandmother has told her stories to curdle your guts, about standing on a hill at Gettysburg and watching her lover ride hell for leather into battle. And I followed him, didn't I, chick? 

"What brought you here? To the Front?" Helena cocks her head at him, and Ramsay's brows raise nearly to his hairline. 

"You're bold as brass.” Ramsay snaps his fingers. “I like that. Knew it as soon as you stepped out of that line of nurses that you wouldn't turn into a shrinking violet at your first amputation." Ramsay turns to their waiter, a Frenchman of elderly years with an ear trumpet. "We'll take your best watered wine for the lady, and a bottle of whiskey." 

Helena coughs lightly, and addresses the waiter in seamless French. "(What is the special today?)" 

The old man looks sad. "(I am afraid we do not have anything special. Just some eel ragout, and fresh bread my wife baked this morning.)" 

"(Then we will take that, and your best bottle of Merlot.)" 

When the owner has gone, Ramsay smiles broadly at Helena, showing white teeth against three days shadow of a beard on his jaw. "By God, you're a marvel. Never learned much French myself, besides what I've had to behind the lines." 

"Oh, my governess despaired of me." Helena shrugs, but cannot help smiling in return. "I can speak enough French to get by, you know, but I could never pass for a natural." 

"Well, you are an American." But it does not sound like an insult.

The eel comes, and she eats ravenously, less like a lady and more like the girl who downed seven glasses of champagne and then raced her brother from Boston to Concord on horseback. 

And Ramsay drinks. Thoughtfully. Mindfully. She does not remember, afterward, nor for many years, what they said, only how she had smiled and smiled until her cheeks hurt, and the ticking of the pocket watch. 

One two, one two. Tick tock. Eleven hours. Ten hours. Nine hours. Eleven minutes and eleven seconds.

No more standing to in trenches,//Only one more church parade. 

"I had a patron who paid for me to go to medical school, a well respected chap named Naveen.” Ramsay nurses his whiskey, rolling the glass with purpose between his palms. “After school, I joined the army to make something of myself, and went to India. My wife deserted me for another man while I was gone. She didn't like the army life, you see." 

Helena reaches out, laying her hand over his. Ramsay startles, but does not move his hand away, and instead flips it over, laying his palm flat against hers and caressing her wrist with his rough fingers. She drags in a breath, the sudden widening of his pupils making her lower abdomen flutter. "I ran away from home. No one knows I'm here, or I'd be dragged back to Boston to marry a Stirling and pop out an heir and a spare before the war has even gotten started." 

"You don't even want to know about what this war will look like if it keeps going, lass." Ramsay drains his glass, and pours them both another. "I'd tell you to go back to Boston, but I can see by that look in your eye that you'll see this thing through. I respect that." 

Helena does not trust herself to speak. The wine is making her thoughts slow, but she does not want this moment to end. 

Ramsay rubs a hand over his jaw. "That was back in '09. I hung my boots up, moved to Scotland, and threw myself into practice in Edinburgh. Then that damn fool shot a Prince, and well, here we are." 

Steady, silent. Their eyes meet and the watch ticks on. Helena feels as though she is drowning. His mouth moves and she only feels the heat of his palm against hers, her cheeks ablaze. 

'Nurse! Nurse Valentine! Are you dumb or are you just deaf?! Hand me those scissors, and bring me another scalpel... These damned orderlies don't know what they're doing...'

Their eyes meet across the bloody operating table. The soldier is mercilessly unconscious, a bloody piece of shrapnel in his thigh. He'd been screaming since he came in off the ambulance, a boy of no more than nineteen, a Tommy named Elijah... 'Mum, Mum, water, water...'

'That's a Blighty, Rookie. Your first. Are you going to faint on me, lass?' Ramsay's eyes lock on Helena's. She feels the flint of his gaze go straight to her spine, and straightens up. 

'No, Doctor. I'll be fine, sir.'

'I told you Americans have brass, Ramsay!' The surgeon, Lahela, winks at Helena in passing, but she does not notice. Her gaze does not falter under Ramsay's. 'Pass me the tweezers.'

His mouth quirks, just a shade. 'Good girl.'

"...Good God, Rookie, will you drink the whole bottle? I promise my company isn't as bad as all that." Helena feels Ramsay tug at her wine glass, and relinquishes it. The lamp has begun to burn low, and from the outside of the cafe is the sound of drunken laughter. "You shouldn't walk out there alone. Come on, I'll walk you back to your billet." 

"I don't have one," Helena confesses. She pats her bag, shamefaced. "I spent my money for the hotel on books... I can sleep on the truck." 

Ramsay shakes his head. "No, no, that won't do. We can't have you more dead on your feet than usual. I have a solution. It's a bit unorthodox. Do you trust me?" 

Eight hours, three minutes, seven seconds. 

•••

Helena does not know why, but the lights from the star shells, all green and gold, make her grip Ramsay's arm tighter, and press against his side. At the corner, he stops and gazes down at her, a strange and wild new thing in his face, something she dares not name. 

Don't forget me, Helena Valentine. When this lousy war is over, I'll come back, you see... 

"Tell me..." Ramsay brushes a curl back from her brow, his broad fingertips sending a crackle across her bare flesh. "Why did you become a doctor, Rookie -- Helena?" 

"I read a wonderful book." Helena ducks her head, and looks up at Ramsay from under her lashes, illuminated by the lamplight. Behind them, to the east, she hears the screech of a Minnie, and his hands tighten on her fingers. "It was written by a Scottish doctor who had served in India, on the Northwest Frontier." Her gaze skitters away. 

People said when we enlisted,//Fame and medals we would win.

"Ah. I knew a chap who served there, in his younger days." Ramsay tucks her cold hand through his elbow. The snow is falling thicker now, and they are nearly to the hotel. A quick word from Ramsay to the proprietor -- she hears the words une chambre pour les jeunes mariés -- He knows French after all -- 

And before she knows it, she is sitting in a delectably steaming hot hip bath, strewn with lavender and rosemary. She washes her hair and cannot remember the last time she felt such luxury. 

Nine months, two days, thirteen minutes...

When this war is over, //No more soldiering for me. 

"You can have the bed. I'll bunk down with Medical Officers Gayle and Nguyen, from the -nth Platoon." Ramsay stands in the doorway, his cap in his hands, avoiding looking directly at Helena in her muslin shift. "We wouldn't want you to lose your reputation and have to leave the war so soon." 

"Stay." She feels her eyelids drooping, and pats the quilt next to her. "Please, stay." 

"You know I can't do that." Yet, she hears the floorboards squeak as Ramsay settles next to her on a chair. The inn rattles like a whizzbang and she grasps Ramsay's hand, clutching at it until the clattering of the teacups subsides. "Only a little longer, then, Rookie. Until you're safe." 

•••

Ethan watches Helena Valentine fall asleep. There is nothing he'd like more than to climb next to her in that big bed, to feel her lithe body against his. But it would be wrong, even though nothing will ever be right again after the war is over. But if he can keep her safe -- If I can keep her alive -- he dares not finish the thought. 

“You wouldn't remember me, Helena Valentine, but I was the guest speaker of honor when they hung the plaque for your grandfather at the Royal Hospital, in Edinburgh.” Ethan whispers the words, barely a murmur. The whiskey has given him courage, here in a small hotel near the Ypres front. 

Ypres, the Race to the Sea. Generals called it a triumph, but the only thing the war has given Ethan thus far has been insomnia for thirty-six hours, a hatred of mustard gas and a pair of fine German boots from over the top. 

“He was an old surgeon, a medical man, who fought in the American Civil War, but he did great things for Scottish medicine, too, back in his youth.” Helena's fingertips tighten on his palm, and Ethan fears he has said too much. But he goes on, like a schoolboy at the confessional, for who can say when they shall ever have this moment again? And hasn't the war taught him by now to leave nothing unsaid? 

“You must have been not more than twenty-one, then. You were still unmarried, with a vast inheritance that folks said you'd squandered on medical school. I knew right then and there that Jonas Valentine would have been proud of you. I wanted to introduce myself right there and then…” 

But I was too tongue tied by your beauty, and couldn't find the words. Later, when I saw you again in Ypres, I couldn't believe my own eyes. I didn't want to tell you how I felt then...

(But that will keep, until this war is over.)

Her grip loosens, and he knows she is sleeping. She sighs in her slumber when his lips brush across her dainty brow, and it is with everything inside of him screaming at him to turn around that he walks away. 

When I get my civvy clothes on,/Oh how happy I shall be.

•••

Forty-five minutes, thirty seconds. 

The books are too heavy. Yet, Helena, an oasis of blue with a red cross on one arm in a sea of green uniforms, settles in with Sherlock Holmes. Rookie... She snaps the book shut, watching the landscape go by from the army van. 

I shouldn't... We shouldn't. Ramsay cups both sides of Helena's face in his hands. The book drops to the floor. They are both damp from the bath, and his skin smells of cedar and lavender soap. 

copy and paste into your tab:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/29957496/chapters/73743633

Later, she will remember the exact way the quilt felt as he pulled it over her shoulders, tucking her in, embers in the grate and his lips ghosting across her forehead. 

•••

Twenty years on, when a new war is brewing, this is what Helena Valentine remembers: 

The air, so still and warm, with not a single lark singing. The earth smells of flowers and death, and she is sharing sterilizing duty with VAD Nurse Varma, whom she'd come over from London with. 

"I suppose you think you're better than me, being a real doctor and all, but..." Jackie's lips move, but Helena cannot hear what she is saying. All she can hear is a buzzing sound, a ringing in her head. 

One two, one two. 

Her hands tremble with fatigue over the medical instruments. 

Thirteen minutes and forty-seven seconds. 

Tick, tock. 

The table begins to shake and she looks at Jackie, their eyes wide as they clasp hands -- and then they are running -- and the bridge is shaking, it's shaking Dr Ramsay, you shouldn't be out here, it's wartime you know -- 

No one can know about this, about us. You know that, right? 

I know, Dr Ramsay.

He cups her chin in his hand. They say you're a grasping American chit, but you're my American chit now, and I won't hear anything against you. Oh -- and don't check your bag until you're on the truck back to the lines. I left something there for you. 

Then you have this -- keep it until the war is over -- it was my grandfather's and it's over a hundred years old and it's still ticking on. 

His mouth is warm on hers, tip of his tongue pressed against hers for a surprisingly electric surge.  

-- "Nurse Valentine! Valentine!" --

Helena wakes in the morning with the ashes cold in the grate, Ramsay's greatcoat draped over her. It smells of peat and whiskey, and the faintest whiff of mustard gas. Her thighs are wet and she looks under the quilts and realizes her cycle has started, and she does not know why, but she begins to sob, whether from relief or terror she knows not. 

One two, one two.

(Twelve hours, seventeen minutes, and thirty four seconds.)

Tick, tock. 

People said when we enlisted,/Fame and medals we would win,/But the fame is in the guardroom,/And those medals made of tin.

[spaedia]

PLEASE TAKE A MOMENT TO READ.

alrighty dudes, dudettes, and everything in between. this is the last post i intend to ever make on tumblr, so listen up. in regards to the bullshit “callout” posted the other day:

CALLOUT, I GUESS, FOR DEVIL AND CO, BUT MOSTLY DEVIL BC LET’S FACE IT, WITHOUT THE SCREENSHOTS YOU PROVIDED, YOUR ARGUMENT FOR WHY WART IS A BAD PERSON IS “HE DAMAGED MY EGO OWO”. YOU SAID THIS WASN’T YOUR PROBLEM? WELL I’M MAKING IT YOUR PROBLEM, ASSHAT.

so let’s start w/ the screenshots in question. i haven’t read the callout, so idk what was used, but considering i had upwards of 5 people come to me and ask me if i was okay, i can take a guess. let the record show that all of the messages i sent to dev and norgie regarding wart was in the midst of our breakup, which was messy enough as is. when wart and i first broke up, i had dev and co blocked bc of personal reasons. devil then decided to HUNT DOWN ONE OF MY BLOGS and follow me (after i assume staking it out, bc he’s known for stalking people). i confronted him, and he gave me some shtick about how he’ll “always care about me” and i’m “still his little sister”, blah blah blah other manipulative bullcrap. against my better judgement, i let him back in.

wart was my first boyfriend. i adored him with everything i had, so naturally, this breakup left me in a bad emotional state. devil and norgie took COMPLETE ADVANTAGE OF THIS, and when i told them what happened between wart and i, immediately began twisting it to make wart out to be the bad guy. it was norgie who originally suggested that i had been emotionally abused, and in my vulnerable state, i began to see things that way. 

not that it’s anyone’s business, but if you wanna know how the breakup went, it was something like this: wart’s mental state was deteriorating, i suggested maybe we take a break, immediately went back on that statement, wart broke things off the next morning. there was no emotional abuse, no threatening of suicide, no physical violence - it was a breakup. things didn’t work out. it happens. but of course, this didn’t fit dev and co’s narrative, so they needed to get me to admit things were much worse than they were. when i later came to my senses and realized this was all bullshit, devil and norgie then decided to GUILT TRIP ME by pointing out how they spent “two hours” on call with me while i cried. after i had just had my heart broken. no shit i was upset. newsflash: wart spent a lot longer with me on call while i was breaking down. hell, he broke up with me and still let me cry on his shoulder. and unlike dev and norgie, he never once acted like i owed him, because that’s what friends do. but hey, go on and talk about how wart’s the abusive one.

devil has spent years abusing my trust. every time i tell him i don’t want so speak with him, he comes back awhile later with some new apology and reasoning for his behavior. and like most toxic relationships, it was hard to let him ago, especially after losing the person i cared most about. he blatantly took advantage of my situation to fuel his vendetta. the only reason i told him anything was because he promised me he wouldn’t make a post unless wart “stepped out of line” (which, looking back, is a huge red flag: what gives him the right to police other people?). and had i not begun to confront him about all the bullshit he made me say, he probably would have held off. in fact, he told me that one of the “main reasons” he felt this “needed to come out” was because i was starting to defend wart. when i realized that dev was serious about making this callout, i told him i wanted no part of it. he asked me for screenshots of some of my and wart’s conversations, to which i gave him a hard no. did that stop him from using our personal messages in his sorry excuse for a callout? of course not. these are the type of people who don’t care about anyone except themselves, dev has made that perfectly clear. MY PRIVACY AND AN INNOCENT MAN’S WELL BEING MEANT NOTHING TO HIM. all he and his friends cared about was spurring along their vendetta. and honestly, if i was wart, i would have sued y’all for harassment and defamation of character ages ago.

with the matter of those messages out of the way, let’s move on to dev’s actual claims. this is where the defamation gets real, because he had the nerve to call wart a predator. seriously? what, because he dated someone a few years younger than him?

dev loves to throw the word pedo.phile around, despite the fact that he obviously doesn’t know what it means. pedo.philia “is a psychiatric disorder in which an adult or older adolescent experiences a primary or exclusive sexual attraction to prepubescent children”. i started puberty when i was twelve, and wart and i didn’t even meet until i was fifteen. so immediately, he doesn’t fit the bill for a pedo.phile. #sorrynotsorry.

but let’s work around that. let’s say, that because he was romantically attracted to me, that automatically makes him a pedo.phile. i’m going to remind everyone of something devil would love to leave buried: the fact that, when i was thirteen, and again at fourteen, devil tried to coerce me into writing smut with him, along with a sixteen year old girl. he used my trust of him to assure me that it would be fine. his excuse? “my (ex)girlfriend made me do it.” cause that’s a solid argument alright. so fine, label wart a pedo.phile. i sure hope dev’s planning on giving himself the same label, because what he did is a lot worse lmao.

i don’t have screenshots from dev and my conversations, i think he deleted that account, but here’s him w/ the other girl.

so yeah long story short: dev knew this girl was underage, still tried to smut with her. take my word that he tried with me, i guess. i don’t think he’s ever denied it.

now, admittedly, i didn’t need to bring this up, but according to devil it’s important that predators get called out, so...he brought this on himself.

now i’m going to tell y’all the story of how wart and i started dating, because it really puts a hole in this “predator” story. see, for wart to be a predator, he would have had to target me in some way (come to think of it, much like devil did to me). when wart and i got together, dev and i weren’t talking, and i never got around to telling him how this happened, only that it did. (if i did tell him, i forgot about it, and that makes it even worse bc he knows this already lmao.) 

it was may sixth. i was fifteen, wart was nineteen. we had been talking for awhile, and sometime in the past week or so, i had talked to my mom about liking this guy who was older than me. she told me about her own relationships with older guys when she was my age, and that so long as he didn’t try anything, she was fine with it. so on that spring day, i confessed my feelings to wart. and y’know the first thing he said to me? “wait a few years.” a logical statement, one i probably should have taken to heart, but i was a fool in love, so i didn’t. i spent the next hour or so convincing wart to go out with me, and he eventually pitied me enough (he’d admit to something along those lines not long after) to agree. neither of us expected this to become an actual relationship, but hey, a year and a half’s not a bad run.

to make a long story short: i asked wart out, not the other way around. i begged him to date me, not the other way around. and this wasn’t some secret relationship. my parents knew from the beginning, and gave it the okay.

i think i addressed everything in that lameass “callout”, but because dev’s The Worst, i know he’s going to pull at threads to try and get his “predator” accusations to stick. i’m going to post this, and devil will immediately reply “but wait!! he is a predator: you said you two slept together!!” and then post the message where i said exactly that, added some details to make it realistic, whatever, but then fail to post the message a few days later where i told him IT WAS A HALF-BAKED STORY.

see, after wart and i broke up, i heard rumors that he and i had been sleeping together when he was up here. i’m gonna shoot those rumors down right now. a) i’m asexual and sex repulsed. i wouldn’t sleep with someone if they paid me. devil and norgie know this, but they chose to ignore it in favor of a juicy story. b) the story i gave them was incredibly inconsistent. to the point where even devil pointed out my inconsistencies, but then conveniently forgot that ever happened, then, when i told him it was bullshit, TRIED TO INSIST IT WAS TRUE. as if he knows better than i do what happened lmao. c) wart and i were never alone for more than a few minutes. my bedroom walls aren’t exactly soundproof. my bed frame is metal, it squeaks whenever i sit on it. so yeah, obviously we got away with having sex. dumbass.

now, when i heard these rumors, i decided to roll with them. what did i have to lose, right? so yeah, i spiced it up, gave devil and norgie some random details to make it realistic, and told them not to tell anyone (which as far as i know, they haven’t, so thanks for not spreading rumors i guess). when devil brought it up to me during his rant about how this callout “needed to happen”, i pretty much laughed in his face and told him it never happened. and then he tried insisting it did and i rolled my eyes so hard i think i gave myself a headache. 

tl;dr: someone started rumors that wart and i slept together, i confirmed them for shits and giggles, but no, it never happened, for all the reasons stated above.

oh, and as for dev’s reason for this vendetta? he’s told wart that it was because he (wart) wrote a character that dev wanted to write. i’m still convinced it’s over a fragile ego. either way, Real Mature, dude.

NOW i think i covered anything. phew, that’s a doozy. as i said, this is the last post i intend to ever make on this hellsite, but i encourage everyone who sees this to reblog it so that we can clear a (mostly) innocent man’s name. did wart hurt me? yes. was it enough to warrant this abuse?? not in the slightest.

my discord is still on my blog if anyone wants it (unless you’re friends with devil, norgie, kirby, or anyone else involved in this. if that’s the case, i’ll see you in hell). as for my legacy on this hellsite, let it be known that i tried to fight the good fight. i hope it’s good enough.

el psy kongroo.

[rickktish]

Do you ever just...

look at the stuff you know you can never publish without somebody saying “kinky” and turning it into a fetish thing, even though it’s really not a fetish thing at all, and feel sad?

There’s stuff I know I will never be able to share with anyone because it reads as being super kinky. It’s not kinky. It’s world-buildy. But other people don’t think how I think, other people don’t look at things the way I look at them, and other people don’t have the opinions I have. 

I just... I yearn for a platform where I can share something without being afraid of accidentally making someone uncomfortable because of what they think is a sex thing when I don’t view it as a sex thing. I yearn for a society where I can share something creative without having to worry about social issues and opinions and pushing everyone’s triggers by describing the human body.

Today I was scrolling through one of my favorite tags and found someone crying for everyone to unfollow someone else because they supposedly drew child pornography and fetishized trans people. Except that nothing in their argument actually looked like there was any porn or fetishization occurring whatsoever, so I decided to explore the person being defamed myself. And you know what? I just read one of the most beautiful, heartwarming fan comics I’ve ever seen, with a masterfully organized story and wonderfully done EVERYTHING and I loved it to bits and it takes place in a fantasy world which the author of the original work outlined but (as far as I’m aware) never fully fleshed out. One of the characters is shirtless as originally drawn by the author of the original work. The (cisfem) fan artist headcanons this character as trans, and states in her explanation of the story that she spent a long time debating how to incorporate that into her work, and ultimately decided that the character shouldn’t be forced to have recieved top surgery in a medieval setting or to change his outfit in order to “qualify” to be trans. So she draws him throughout the entire comic series, which is at least a hundred posts long and totally worth reading through, as having his breasts exposed when he’s shirtless.

The person who was defaming that artist whose post I initially read was incensed that this cis artist had chosen to depict this character in this way. They held the belief that the artist was sexualizing an underage character and fetishizing his transness by using he/him pronouns for him while exposing his breasts. They argued that the artist clearly hadn’t asked the opinions of any trans people on this matter and ought to be degraded for it.

Except... as a trans man, reading about a trans man who is comfortable enough and free enough in his world to not have to get top surgery or cover up to be accepted was enormously freeing for me. It was incredible to me how accepting literally everyone in the comic was, even to the point of punting me out of my suspension of disbelief several times. Literally no one misgendered this character even once. The only time in-universe that the character’s sex was discussed was for a gag referring to a child he and his partner had accidentally adopted. And the artist’s style is wonderfully unique and simplistic and hardly graphic, to the point that while it was sometimes clear that the character had his breasts exposed, there was never anything uncomfortable or sexual about it. It was literally just another piece of character design, another facet of his apparel reflecting his personality and character. It was glorious, and I revelled in the absolute freedom that this character experienced, that I deeply envied and longed for. (which is not to say that I want to be able to walk around with my chest exposed, because I’m honestly usually not comfortable even in just short sleeves; I prefer to stay well-covered regardless, but the element of acceptance was astounding and deeply moving to me.)

But apparently several people have gone after this artist for “sexualizing” a character and “fetishizing” his transness by not requiring that he “pass.” Not only the person whose discourse initially led me to that artist and their comic, but others as well.

And it makes me sad. Because I write stories about trans men who accept their bodies. I don’t have the experience of a trans woman to feel comfortable writing about that without being afraid of incorrectly portraying that experience, though I’d like to someday try to do that as well in my storytelling. I write stories about trans men who hate their female shape when they’re referred to by female pronouns but can accept and love it when they use male ones-- because that is my experience. I have pages upon pages of journals examining my own perspective, exploring why “she” hates her body and “he” loves his when they are both me and I am both and I have been both but somehow they define my paradigm, my self-view, my world, and I have no answers but I can only write what I know and what I know is taking comfort in accepting my body as it is and my pronouns as they are. This artist, although she is cis and has not experienced what I have, managed to portray that perfectly, and it resonated so deeply with me that I read everything she’s created for that series in a single sitting.

I write about breasts. I write about men with breasts. I write about women with breasts. I write about uncomfortable things, about different perspectives from the norm, about possibilities I have never seen explored. 

I write about an A/B/O universe where it’s not about sex, it’s about a society shaped by a biology entirely different to the one which has shaped our own. I write about Dom/Sub/Switch worlds that don’t have a single drop of citrus in them but have a whole lot about what it means to be “safe” and why it matters how much control you hold over your every moment of breath upon this earth. I write about fetishes in a de-fetishized context, because when you get bored enough to read every single fic on a list for a fandom you learn things you never imagined were a thing, and personally when I learn things I start creating.

But I can never post stories I write about trans men who breastfeed their children, not without editing that part of it out. I can never publish stories about people in their earlyi  teens who are aware of and formulating opinions on this “sex” thing, because even though American kids are taught the mechanics of sex when they’re twelve and thirteen and fourteen the internet doesn’t want to know that they-- that WE-- think on it and consider what the things we learn mean in an actual, world context. I read an argument recently that boiled down to “don’t headcanon fourteen-year-olds as ace they shouldn’t even be thinking about sex what’s wrong with you” and all I could read was “sure, we TEACH them about sex at that age but they’re not supposed to actually THINK about it” and I don’t think I’ve ever read a more accurate description of the American education system and it burned me, down to my very core.

This got a lot longer than I intended, but I guess all I’m really trying to say is that it makes me sad how pervasive our expectation of sex as a perversion is in this culture. This online culture, this world culture-- we talk and talk and talk about sex and shame those who do or think anything outside the “norm”-- whatever that qualifies as for the two week period you happen to be writing during-- and I don’t think anyone on this fucking hellsite even really understands what sex even is on a fundamental level. I’m sure it sounds insane to anyone outside my own head, but the very first thing we fetishized as humans was sex itself and I kind of really wish we hadn’t done that, because it led to the setting of a billion other rules of what is “normal” in regard to procreative acts and what is “kinky” and what is liable to give the next everyday joe to happen upon the pose a boner. 

Sex is an act of procreation. It is an expression between people of an understanding deeper than words can depict, whether that is one of love or one of shared escapism or one of impulsiveness. As soon as it was turned into an act of pure recreation, it became a hot mess that you all can’t help poking at and making weird faces. I have a friend who can’t even stand to listen to a health class discussion of sex because it makes her so deeply uncomfortable and that makes me so fucking sad you have no idea. 

I just... I wish the societal view of sex and its relation to the body didn’t exist sometimes. I wish people didn’t think in terms of sex first and ideas after. I wish people could actually be mature for once in their lives and remember that it’s not all about who can get the biggest orgasm from the weirdest shit.

i know other people’s opinions are different from my own. I try really hard to respect them. really hard. But sometimes, when things don’t make sense in my mind, when I see what I’m 98% positive is a better way of looking at an issue, I just... my empathy function shuts down and I jsut want people to listen and think for once in their lives about why they think of sex the way they do. Why they think of anything the way they do, really. But sex especially. 

Maybe I just want everyone to be able to compartmentalize the way I can, and I know that’s not reasonable in any way shape or form but it’s 3 am and I’m tired of bullshit and i’m’ sad and i’m angry except I’m not really angry I’m actually just sad. Really, really sad. and kind of hopeless.

[pivitor]

in my thirteen years in public school (ending in 2005) there was never a single out LGBT kid in any of them, in any capacity. Not a single one.

Last year (thanks to some Facebook detective work) I learned that one guy who I had at least one class with every day for all four years of high school is gay and I never had a clue, not even an inkling. After my initial surprise wore off, I’m embarrassed to admit that my first reaction was a sort of anger. I felt so alone and isolated in that school, thinking that I was the only gay kid there, and it turns out there was another staring me right in the face the entire time? I wasn’t even thinking about dating or hooking up, even though I did think he was cute in school -- just knowing that there was another gay kid in that school would have helped me so much, and maybe I could have helped him too, and I felt so frustrated and robbed when I found out.

That’s absurd, of course, for a lot of reasons, and I quickly came to my senses. I had my reasons for being closeted in high school (and beyond), and I’m sure he did too. To be honest, I was so terrified then that even if I had known he was out, I wouldn’t have been able to admit it to him. Hell, I probably would have made things worse as a fucked up form of self-defense -- I already remember at least one instance in high school where I said something shitty in front of him that I now feel horrible about because I was trying not to out myself. I was in no shape to be honest or help anyone, not even myself, and I couldn’t expect that of anyone else, and nobody else owed it to me. 

It’s only tangentially related, but I bring this up because I frequently run into this trope in coming of age stories where the closeted gay kid runs into some other closeted gay kid, and it almost never becomes a featured romance, but they have these secret shame-fueled hookups that maybe help, often don’t, but at least they have other gay people in their orbit. (I see this a lot in books, but in terms of other media, there’s that boy Lady Bird’s boyfriend hooks up with at the school dance, or that weird soccer kid who gives Riley a blow job in the woods in Degrassi, just off the top of my head). 

I’m sure this sort of thing rings true for a lot of people, but it’s so foreign to me, and running across it even as an adult still makes me feel weird and different even within my own community, even now that I have queer friends both in real life and online, and even now that I’m out to to more people than i can count on one hand for the first time in my life. Which is ridiculous, but there it is. 

You know what I’m just now realizing? It’s not even that I just never found another gay person, it’s that in these stories they always find another gay person and immediately click with them. I realize the story just needs somebody to be into the protagonist, but it just succeeded in making me feel not only isolated, but also utterly unwanted. It’s media bullshit that even the straights face, I know, but goddamn if it didn’t work its miserable magic on me.

I think I was 19 when I first met another gay person in real life, and it was always people just flicking into my orbit for a few seconds and then vanishing forever. The guy who came into work one day and told me I looked like his ex-boyfriend (hoo boy that fueled some fantasies, let me tell you), the two students who came into work and held hands while they waited for their pizza, the two guys walking around Hershey Park holding hands, these insignificant memories remained etched into my brain because to me they were so significant. 

The first person I ever came out to was a guy I kinda knew on the forum I posted on at the time (why I didn’t come out to the gay guy from that same forum I was chatting with for hours and sending shirtless pics to over AIM is a mystery for the ages I suppose), and while he replied back to me a few times, I can see in retrospect that I basically unloaded the full overwhelming strength of my self-loathing on him and expected him to fix all my problems, and I completely understand why he not only ghosted me, but left the forum entirely soon after. A few years later I came out to my then best friend, who was probably about as understanding as an uber-conservative christian could be (”well, I suppose as long as you don’t actually sleep with a guy you won’t face everlasting destruction!”), but again in retrospect it was pretty much the beginning of the end of our friendship. It didn’t help that I had a ridiculous crush on him, I suppose. I was not good to his girlfriends. To be fair, they weren’t good to him either. (One was flirting with him, telling him he was a “perfect 10,” while simultaneously sleeping with a married 40-something-year-old man, so whatever! I’m the bad guy for suggesting that she was leading him on!)

I swear that this had a point when I started writing. Oh, right! I guess what I’m saying is that, as ridiculous as this hellsite is, it’s really changed my life for the better? It’s helped me get over so many hang-ups about myself and other queer people, taught me my history, normalized and educated me about so many LGBT topics, and, of course, given me an actual group of queer friends both online and in real life that I didn’t even realize how desperately I needed. The fact that I’m comfortable enough to even post this is a minor miracle, and that is not an exaggeration. 

So, um, cheers Tumblr. Love you all.

(Oh! Also! I apologize for those times very early in my time on Tumblr where I said I was straight. After a while I felt guilty about it and just avoided ever saying my sexual orientation at all. Also! On a few occasions I’ve told a story here about a girl I met on vacation in Florida in the 11th grade who I had a major crush on, and then fell into a major depression when I got back home. That is not a lie, it’s a true story! That’s part of why things got so bad when I got home. Cause I thought she was my ticket to “being straight” and having a “normal” life but she had a boyfriend and I didn’t get her contact info and it wouldn’t have worked anyway because I’m fucking gay and probably was just mistaking friendship for romance because I was desperate and didn’t even have female friendships at the time, so when I got home I just thought ‘well I guess there’s nothing else for me to do but hang myself!’ and, uh, I’m really really glad I didn’t)

(I swear I’m sober right now, I’m just in a weird mood)

[addieclo]

I have been on this website for ten years, give or take. Ten years on what we all jokingly call our emotional support hellsite and honestly this has been the only platform I have felt to be the safest place to be my raw, authentic and gritty self. The good, the bad, and the ugly. And I’m not in a self deprecating mindset nor am I in a depressed episode filled of anxiety. I’m just coming to this realization that nowhere else online have I felt like I could post my deepest, darkest thoughts without feeling like I was gonna face repercussions. From my mother, from friends, from other family members and it’s not like I can’t turn to a few individuals here and there in real life because I know I can.

But sometimes this has been the space I’ve expressed thoughts of wanting death and of deep sadness and didn’t have to hear a lecture from my mom about how things aren’t that bad or I shouldn’t post those things. And maybe I shouldn’t online in the past but here’s the thing I have never felt safe anywhere emotionally enough to express myself. Not once growing up did I feel like I could. My dad had a breakdown when I was a child. I grew up watching out my stressed out mother take care of my older brother through all his medical shit and had to listen to her as she broke down to me about her life. For all the terrible things she endured and at no point did I feel like I could have the same in return. I had to be the golden child, the savior child. The one who healed by listening and I had to be the pillar of strength for her and my dad. And as I got older I carried that into my friendships, that the very people I once could read so well would come to me for everything and I felt like if I lost that strength who would they have. I felt like Elsa. Conceal don’t feel. Don’t let them know.

And not one of them noticed I was in pain. And I know I’m reserved and I exude confidence when I feel like it but I look back at all my old posts and I’m like you really did feel alone. And I hated it then. I hated that I couldn’t feel like I had anyone I could really turn to, to talk to. I didn’t want to feel judged or admonished for my feelings and anxious thoughts. But all I knew from my own mother was that. In junior high leading into high school I had a MySpace page where I would sometimes post my thoughts on the blog side of things and my aunt saw and reported to my mother rather than council me. To let me know I could trust her and instead I was lectured by my mother the very things I said above of things aren’t that bad. But they really were for a young girl who saw her father break down when she was only eight years old and had to learn very quickly to understand what was going on.

It was very hard for the thirteen year old to come to terms of a boy assaulting her by almost drowning her in pool after she turned him down. And who reflected thoughts of death at that young of an age because she was tired and worn out already after witnessing violence and aggression from years earlier. And while yes I shouldn’t have posted certain things at the time at fourteen I needed an adult to let me speak my mind and give me a safe space to let things put. But I didn’t have that then and I barely found it at twenty three with a manager who helped me learn that it’s okay to talk. It’s okay to speak about your problems and your life.

If it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t know how I would’ve made it through that time all those years ago. But aside from her I only have a few other friends I know I can turn to for emotional support but not many else. I don’t blame my family as I know there’s a lot of healing that needs to be done amongst themselves. I’ve been working through my own this past year before I turned twenty nine. And I’m still releasing things. And a lot of it has been because of this site. The posts I used to come across that talked about anxiety or about depression. The posts that were about releasing emotional baggage. In small doses those posts helped me through so much in my twenties that as time has gone on I look back and come across old stuff and I’m like wow.

Some of it I pat myself and go “there there Addie” to comfort the old me. And some of it I laugh a little cause it’s like you really went through it didn’t you. And if I could delete all my other socials because I just feel tired of the negativity I would but I know that would freak some friends out. So for now I won’t. But honestly I rather have time to read a book and escape from the outside hell that is going on in this planet and make time to join things that interest me to meet like minded individuals who are also on a healing path and going through a spiritual awakening. Because I rather be around individuals who I can breakdown in front of and know I’m being held up in those moments of weakness and heartbreak. Who will be my pillar of strength when I’m not feeling strong. I’ve held it in far too long and it no longer serves me to live that way.

This site has been the starting point as like a personal journal but also actual supportive site with others who post or reblog content to share or who actively reached out and actually checked up on me from time to time. And for those who did thank you. Even if I never speak to you again you really helped a soul feel cared for at times I felt like if I disappeared no one would really notice. Or maybe two would but everyone else would carry on. But those moments when people did, have reminded me that those past thoughts weren’t true. They were intrusive thoughts. And gorgeous gorgeous girls don’t give in to intrusive thoughts. I know this now. I know I am loved and I am worthy of love. And while I don’t have a big following on this blog and I haven’t always gotten those messages of someone checking up on me this site as much of as hellsite it is really is supportive and I am grateful.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 296

A Most Holy Man/The Woman Who Fell to Earth

“A Most Holy Man”

Plot Description: in search of a key component for creating a rift, Sam and Dean head west and become entangled in a web of characters pursuing a Maltese relic

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: can’t tell if that nun died, but I wouldn’t be a nun, soooooo

Oh good we have another red headed woman ❤️ ooooo, Dean’s mad or at least annoyed that she’s hitting on Sam and not him

Don’t you think Cas could have told them what a most holy man meant BEFORE leaving?? Sure, a saint is a good guess, but this wouldn’t be our first mission for nothing if they’re wrong or can’t get it

Oh sure. No big deal, just steal the skull of St Peter from a notorious mob boss in exchange for the blood of St Ignatius…

You know who could have been so useful right about now? Bela, morally charcoal loml

I’m now suspicious of everyone they meet in this hotel. But mostly the guy they literally ran into on the elevator

But maybe he’s TOO suspicious and I should be looking at the woman who was trading the spn book

You’re not wrong, Dean, but while being held not QUITE hostage by a mob boss who knows that legally speaking you’re already dead so no one would care if you died now is not the time to point out that the relics he had stolen for him already had a home

Can’t believe (by which I mean I really can believe) they got suckered into being mob lackeys

Aw year! Elevator guy is back!! Man, I gotta be way more basic in who I suspect

Elevator guy is a priest just trying to buy the skull back for his congregation? I’m not entirely buying the story but we’re like half way through the episode so I might as well for now

…istg, if they end up getting this priest’s blood and that’s enough? What if HE is “a most holy man”? Because I really think we might be heading that way after the priest’s speech about always trying to do good despite the failings of the world

They are still very much gonna try to steal that skull back, and I’m glad Sam convinced Dean to do it for this Maltese priest rather than the mob boss or the greedy relic dealer

This IS quite the web of characters. We’ve circled back to the redhead and she’s practically auctioning it between the two bad guys

Lmao “I’m creating a distraction” he says because lying is a sin

Are all the bad guys gonna shoot each other and Sam will emerge victorious with the skull? This is quite the ridiculous episode

Oh no. Oh ok. The bullet that shot the priest just grazed him

I knewwwww they’d get the priest’s blood because he’s “a most holy man”

Oh Sammy…you can’t stop all the bad in the world, you just have to do what you can

“The Woman Who Fell to Earth”

Plot Description: a mysterious woman, unable to remember her own name, falls from the Sheffield night sky

This forest is gorgeous and it’s so close to some really great hills, I almost don’t care about the sci-fi stuff happening

I say that and then a blue pod shows up and…that is interesting

Not saying I’m not interested in the people who the Doctor will be surrounding herself with for the next three seasons or however long each of them last, but I just kind of want to meet Thirteen now. It’s been a WHILE since the beginning of the episode

There she is!!

The cgi would have never been this good in the old days

This dude who just wants off the train and to go to work and forget all of this is so relatable

Poor Ryan. Can’t stop anyone from talking about how he can’t ride a bike

Ah fuck another pod thing has landed somewhere else

So this other alien looks like a swirling ball of dark spaghetti and blue electricity

Wait but this one had a different (yet somewhat related??) alien

AND Thirteen and her crew have dna bombs implanted in them by the first alien?

It’s frustrating starting all over with a whole new set of characters, especially when they all know each other and have an established rapport. Like, it was one thing to get Amy and a little bit of Rory right off the bat when Ten became Eleven, but we established something between Eleven and Amy first. I don’t want this to feel as off putting as it is. But I know at least three of the four new characters are going to be featured with Thirteen

Thirteen should have been allowed to keep the goggles she wore when creating her new sonic screwdriver. Think it would have gone well with the overalls and long coat

Oh nooooo, the guy who just wanted to get on with his life after the traumatic encounter with the Doctor and another alien is being hunted by a THIRD alien?? (The second we encountered not including the Doctor) HE’s the randomly designated prey? He just wanted to go to work…

OSHA would have so much to say about what’s going on at this construction site. So would whatever the UK version is

She’s mad she’s shorter now and i can’t blame her

I like Ryan’s mom. We haven’t had a really good companion mom since Jackie. Martha’s mom wasn’t horribly but Ryan’s mom seems so much cooler

FUCK. NO. I was just saying how cool she is…and they kill her off?!?! (I missed the part where she was actually his grandma? In my defense, I had the volume low because Megumi was sleeping)

I like Jodie’s accent

No but honestly the long coat with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows is such a look. I love it

Of course she zapped them right along with her, even if by accident

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 290

The Bad Place/World Enough and Time

“The Bad Place”

Plot Description: Sam and Dean get a lead on Jack, who seeks help from a reluctant dreamwalker. After a disturbing vision, Patience makes a big decision

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: if Lucifer’s son used his powers on me, no, but I don’t really have any reason to need any skills I have

Oh, Patience. I’m so sorry about all the pressure you’re under to be perfect

The boys arguing over what to do about Jack is getting a little old

THIS poor girl. I was about to say Kaia and Jack’s meeting feels like it should be out of a bad CW show (meaning riverdale) and then I remembered……

It’s really stupid that they call it Apocalypse World

This is so bad for Dean. You’d think finding out your mom is alive would be a good thing, but this IS DEAN

Hearing Dean affirm Jack saying that the boys and Cas are his family is so sweet

Ok it is the angels who have Kaia. They dress like angels but they were acting more like demons

Damn, James!! I thought you would be better than this. If your daughter chooses to help people using her gift, she shouldn’t come back home?!

Dean. What the fuck. You can’t be threatening this teenage girl with a gun because she doesn’t feel like helping two strange men in their 30s. Sam, wrangle your damn brother

Surely warding on the fly is totally gonna work perfectly

ARE YALL CRAZY??? You’re going to try to go to apocalypse——why does that look far more like purgatory?

He took her from purgatory to apocalypse world

Oh if only they knew she and Jack smote the angels downstairs too

Ok Jack made it to apocalypse world, but the boys…….I have no idea where they are. Thought it was purgatory for a minute but it is not

“World Enough and Time”

Plot Description: a huge spaceship harbors one of the Doctor’s most feared enemies: Mondasian Cybermen

Oh we are getting SO close to regeneration. And while I am excited to finally meet Thirteen, I’ll miss Twelve (a character I can rewatch any time I want) a lot

Missy dressed almost exactly like Mary Poppins is ❤️

I have a feeling this is a simulation they’re running Missy through rn. There’s no way those three would let her do a mission outside the. TARDIS with only Bill and Nardole………right??

Missy insisting to Bill that the Doctor’s real name is Doctor Who 💀 and then the Doctor saying he likes it

No no no no no, HOW ARE YOU GONNA FIX THE FACT THAT YOU JUST SHOT A LARGE HOLE CLEAR THROUGH BILL’S CHEST?? Hmmm???

Loving this conversation between Bill and the Doctor (we went back some amount of days) about gender and sexuality…and the Doctor saying that Gallifrey is the most civilized planet and Bill comes back with “but you still call yourselves time lords”

SHE TRIED TO MAKE HIM PROMISE HE WOULD NOT GET HER KILLED 😭😭😭

Well the guy who repaired Bill certainly LOOKS human it at least more human than the beings who took her there

Sure…you’re CURING those people. Of what? Humanity??

Sure…time’s moving faster at the bottom of the ship than the top? Because of the black hole

She’s now been waiting there for YEARS???

(I thought I was promised John Simm…)

This guy telling Bill she is the person most dear to him, like a mother or aunt, and she’s just kinda weirded out

Nooooo, they’re gonna try to upgrade Bill to cyberman status

Ohhhhhhh the guy who befriended and betrayed Bill was John Simm!Master in disguise. No wonder he said the Doctor wouldn’t forgive Missy for what she did to Bill

Wait…so the Master created the cybermen????