wнαт тнe ғυcĸ ιѕ тнιѕ?
Elmo’s voice saying “I’ll fuck u up” is the best and worst thing ever
I will never not reblog this
Posts/chats part 3
we are in a media literacy crisis
friendly reminder that characters don't need to be saints to be entertaining. and telling a story does not mean endorsement. art does not need to be all about morally good people.
IDK if this was meant as hyperbole but it's literally true:
We are genuinely in a crisis of media literacy, with ever fewer genuinely factual resources available in the style and language used by contemporary audiences.
It may sound condescending, but we genuinely need to remind people, or worse, explain to them for the first time that art is not evidence of real world behaviour.
So, thank you, for this reminder. Genuinely.
You're correct:
Art does not need to feature exclusively morally pure characters. Art is not proof of the creator's secret, violent desires.
I just had a discussion with my friend about fanfiction and how we tend to assume that women are the writers without any actual proof. Then I said, hey, I know fanfiction written by gay and trans dudes. But then I remembered, wait, I think I know one writer who just must be cis het based on his work. Anyway, all writers, be honest, who are you?
Please reblog if you're interested in the results.
If you have ever written any fanfiction, tell me your identity, pls
cis het woman
cis queer woman
trans het woman
trans queer woman
nonbinary person
cis het man
cis queer man
trans het man
trans queer man
other/prefer not to tell/see the results
See Results
Oh please answer this poll, it might be semi-representative if the number of responses is high enough
Gay Denial (2009)
Pencil on Paper
March 6th, 2009
Dear Journal,
I found out what lesbian means today, Ella told me at recess. It’s unfair because girls are so much prettier than guys. It’s like comparing a flower to an old shoe. But I’m not a lesbian, almost 99% of my friends are guys.
Shakespeare could only aspire to this level of dramatic irony.
Lucien and Ernest
- (Not necessarily romantic, but they are the same age if you want)
It had been several hours since Ernest had received the strangely-worded invite from his favourite goth and, despite the gross time of night, he found himself trudging through he dark of the cul-de-sac.
Why Lucien needed to be accompanied in his garden as the 'witching hour' (as he put it) approached, he didn't know. But out of simple spite for the argument his father gave about him leaving the house at night, he wasn't about to question it.
Upon his arrival, Damian greeted him with a confused but encouraging smile (as per usual), before ushering him out to their garden. He seemed unperturbed by neither the time or his son's behaviour.
Ernest pulled his hood down as he wandered down the step of the footpath that parted the waves of wildflowers on either side. The lanterns that occasionally dotted the path glowed among the greenery, casting golden shadows beneath his feet. If he didn't have other engagements, he would have brought a sketchpad with him; the Bloodmarch residence seemed almost ethereal at times.
The Bloodmarches themselves, however, were more odd at times, rather than ethereal. Lucien setting the perfect example of this, in that moment.
A circular patch of grass sat at the bottom of the steps, surrounded by a ring of stones. In the centre of the grass, starfished and silent, was the one and only, Lucien Bloodmarch.
Edging the ring were small jars, also acting as lanterns with the candles that they held, flickering more golden light onto his face. In the darkness, where light did and didn't cut it, the teen's skin was ghostly pale and, unfamiliar to Ernest, bare of any makeup.
Stuffing his hands in his pocket, he shuffled closer to his stationary friend, seemingly playing dead in the candlelit garden.
Lucien's eyes opened a crack, peering up at the visitor.
"Hey." He near-enough whispered.
Ernest looked down at him, brows creased.
"Hey?" He replied, "is everything alright?"
Closing his eyes again, Lucien hummed and nodded his head.
"And, you invited me here because?"
"No particular reason."
"What are you even doing?" Ernest asked, lips quirking in a small smile.
"Convening with the old gods."
"What?" He laughed.
"Convening with the old gods. Apparently, I used to do it loads when I was little. Haven't spoken to 'em in a while. Thought they might be lonely."
Lucien's eyes opened again, grey looking a lot less piercing when not darkly lined. White hair splayed away from hiding his face, instead mingling with the grass.
"You're a weirdo. You know that right?"
Lucien scoffed, still remaining in his spot on the ground.
"I mean, you can go if you want."
Ernest thought for a second before sighing, overly amused more than anything.
He dropped to the floor, crossing his legs. A smile took over Lucien's face as he did this, earning a small punch to his side.
"Nah, 'think I'll stay."
Subconsciously, he gripped a few pieces of grass between his fingers and began piling their beheaded stalks.
He looked up from the ground towards his darkly-inclined friend (who, he was pretty sure, never really deserved the status of mere mortal) smiling at the silent words that his lips sometimes mimed.
"Sooo, who's ear are you talking off? Or what's ear? If they even have ears..?"
"His name doesn't translate to human, apparently. Cool dude, though." Lucien muttered, without looking at him.
"Have you ever seen a therapist about this or..?"
"Dad says it doesn't do any harm to be different."
Ernest pondered this for a second, "alright. I like that."
They shared a smile before Lucien shut his eyes and lost himself once more.
Here have some Dream Daddy headcanons
- Damien may speak with what sounds like an upper-class Bostonian accent, and since Maple Bay is in Massachusetts this fools many people into thinking he’s a Mass. native, but he actually grew up in the Bible Belt of Texas. Reason: He makes reference to growing up in an area that prevented him from coming out as trans lest he be bullied, or worse. His belt also has a bigass buckle on it. (Why Texas specifically? *shrugs* I don’t fuckin’ know.)
-
Despite what his name may suggest, Ernest is not Hugo’s son from birth. I don’t know of a single kid who calls the parent they’ve had since before they could remember by their first name, no matter what their relationship is like. Ernest’s mother died and his father remarried to Hugo, who then adopted him. When they divorced, Hugo was deemed the more responsible parent and was granted primary custody.
- Damien is autistic and is vegetarian due to sensory issues. He can’t stand the texture of meat and the smell of fish makes him nauseous. He’s not vegan though, and has no problem with dairy products, honey, eggs, or gelatin. Lucien is vegetarian, mostly just because, but also as a small gesture of solidarity, so his dad seems less ‘weird’ to other people.
- Inadvertently and unbeknownst to him, Damien low-key scares his coworkers. None of them have ever seen him smile, we all know how strong his resting bitchface game is, he spends most of his time in the server room or in his office, and he doesn’t talk much to them outside of work-related issues (partly because…well, they don’t talk to him much outside of work-related issues). The ice only breaks when Dadsona brings him lunch one day as a surprise and they see his demeanour change completely in the company of his husband.
- Lucien wants to be a tattoo and piercing artist. He already draws as a hobby, and he’s pretty damn good at it, but he just likes the idea of people turning their bodies into canvases in order to express themselves. Why just look at art when you can be art?
-
Lucien doesn’t act like it, but if the need arose he could absolutely be as dramatic as his father. I mean seriously, trying to reenact The Cask of Amontillado with his
crushfrenemy for no Goddamn reason other than to see if he could? Only a Bloodmarch would. - Yes I ship Lucien and Ernest. I don’t know why, but the idea of Lucien catching feelings for this greasy little twip who’s two grades below and way too angry for his short ass to contain and who sets shit on fire for fun and who stood still for twenty fucking minutes while Lucien tried to brick him up in the school’s boiler room just seems adorable to me.
- Lucien loves snakes. Others think it’s just ‘cause he’s an edgy bitch but he just finds them adorable. Damien has found him cooing furtively at pictures of snakes on Tumblr or whatever, and if Dadsona has a snake, Lucien spends plenty of time with it whenever they’re over at his house (and even more after they move in together).
- Though he won’t admit it, Lucien has quite a sweet tooth. Damien and Dadsona know this perfectly well, and always let him lick the spoon after making brownies/cookies.
- When Lucien was very small, Damien used to sing ’The Hearse Song’ to him, which Lucien found gross and hilarious because of course he did. Lucien still likes the song out of nostalgia and on rare occasions when Lucien is upset, Damien will still sing it to him to cheer him up.
- Mary and Joseph host a Thanksgiving meal at the church for the homeless and those who have no family to spend it with.
- Joseph’s barbecues aren’t restricted just to residents of the cul-de-sac, but to residents of the whole street, devoted patrons of the church, and other pillars of the community.
- Lucien hates needles. Yeah, he let Ernest give him a stick-and-poke, but tattoo needles are different from vaccine needles or phlebotomy needles.
EDIT: KJFHGKJDHJGKN I forgot to replace my own Dadsona’s name with ‘Dadsona’ for the sweet tooth one lmao ok it’s fixed now
