Sooooo... I'm in a revival era of reading Dramione. Recently, I found myself drowning in the incredible world created by @onebedtorulethemall in their gothic horror masterpiece 'A Certain Slant of Light'.

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@remembertherandler
Sooooo... I'm in a revival era of reading Dramione. Recently, I found myself drowning in the incredible world created by @onebedtorulethemall in their gothic horror masterpiece 'A Certain Slant of Light'.
Having so many thoughts about both of their reactions
Its the way Rhett was literally in blushing, giggling, kicking his feet and twirling his hair mode the moment he hears it. Why he's looking down shyly 😭😭
Link as in Zelda?
I gotta assume you're following my main because of a sideblog of mine you dig... because... no 😂
Coming out of deep hibernation to say Link just HAD to simulate sex between a pickle and hummus with a "Rhinky Rhinky Rhinky" soud effect.
CAN I TASTE YOURS
🛑HELP— NEW SITUATION🛑
Believe it or not, shit has hit the fan in several more directions. My brother in law is now in the ICU after an apparent overdose and two lungs full of pneumonia. He nearly died and he is still in a medically induced coma, four days later.
We managed to move my terminal mother in law to a nursing home where she can get 24/7 care but we’re still gonna need to be nearby so we can visit daily.
We found a low income apartment complex but we’d have to move in by the end of the month.
Here’s the kicker: we need roughly $500 to move in.
I know it seems unbelievable but my life is actually this fucking ridiculous.
TL;DR: brother in law checked out via coma and left us high and dry—we need $500 to move into a nearby apartment by the end of this month in order to get a prorated rent. Any help would be a lifesaver.
Reblog and donate only, PLEASE!
Commissions are Open
My PayPal
CashApp: $Kelsifur
Venmo: magicbubblepipe
🙏
$20/$500
So I got angry and decided more people need to know about this guy:
This, dear friends, is Wing Commander Ian Gleed, DFC, DSO, Croix de Guerre. He was a spitfire pilot in WWII in his early twenties and also pretty fucking gay.
He was around from the very start of WWII, fighting in France, the Battle of Britain, and eventually the North African Campaign, where he was tragically shot down over Tunisia.
Gleed published a memoir in I think 1942, before his departure for Tunisia, Arise to Conquer (I mean…really?) where his family were very surprised to discover passages about a girlfriend called Pam. When asked about this by his sister, Gleed told her he’d invented said girlfriend because readers ‘like a touch of romance’. Read, ‘the publisher was a bit worried by the implications my lack of girlfriend and circle of queer friends would have’.
Implications which no one knew where 100% true.
Ian was sadly KIA over Tunisia, but the truth was eventually revealed, decades later, by one of his boyfriends….
That blonde creature is Christopher Gotch, another spitfire pilot stationed at the same airfield as Gleed (Chris was also badass enough to age himself up on the RAF application form and get away with it, but that’s by-the-by). Chris talked about his relationship with Gleed in the 1990s. …
Now.
How do you proposition another man in that day and age? According to Christopher, you sneak into their room, kiss them straight up, make an invite to your own room, and then tear off like an absolute cad, which is exactly what Gleed did. Being in his right mind, Christopher said ‘alrighty then’, leading to an 8 month relationship complete with having to hide naked in a cupboard to avoid being caught by the Group Captain.
…the more you read about Ian Gleed the better it gets, so just do. He had the cat from Pinocchio painted on his damn spitfire punching swastikas for heaven’s sake, so everyone would say over the radio ‘here comes Figaro’:
So, if you need an LGBT+ hero to cheer you up, check out my darling boy Ian Gleed.
OMG @remembertherandler !!!
STOP IT RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!! <3
🛑STOP SCROLLING🛑
If you’ve been following me for the past couple weeks, then you probably know most of what I’m about to tell you. My mother in law, Tammy, one of the kindest, gentlest people to ever walk this cursed earth—is dying. After battling through countless losses, near-deaths, hard-ships, and a massive stroke, she’s developed stage 4 anal cancer that has already metastasized all the way up to her collar bones. There’s no sugar coating the diagnosis and we’re to the point of keeping her comfortable and happy for this last chapter of life.
Do you need proof? I get it, people scam all the time. Here she is, if you must see. Just realize it would break her heart to know this image is out there for the world to see but I don’t know another way to get through to you people that this is real, this is dire, and this is desperate.
The situation she’s been living in, with my brother in law, is far from adequate. He’s got his hands full with 2 children under the age of 7 a rapidly declining mother, and 3 dogs to care for. No doubt, he’s experiencing serious care-taker burn out at this point but the conditions we found them in were simply unacceptable.
When we arrived, she had accidentally overmedicated herself and had a swollen leg, which had apparently been that way for THREE FUCKING WEEKS. It could have broken loose at any point and had we not showed up and taken her to the ER, where my spouse spent 6 miserable hours sitting with her drugged up mother and a duct-taped colostomy bag. The hospital staff let a clearly dying woman wait in the waiting room while the other people around them stared, shocked and appalled at the lack of care the staff showed.
When they finally gave her a room, hours later, a male nurse forcibly removed her shirt without asking (she hadn’t been wearing a bra) which is something that’s only acceptable in a trauma situation, which this clearly wasn’t. Her fingers were too cold to keep the heart monitor going so they spent hours of constant “beep beep”s, sobbing beside their dying mother—during this time several staff members made eye contact and just kept walking. Stormy had to venture out into the hall and beg the first person they saw for tissues bc they were literally drowning behind their mask.
After this entire ordeal, they were finally helped by a nurse who said “I haven’t had to do this for a while. Usually patients can take care of this themselves”, you know like an unprofessional, passive aggressive bitch, and then proceeded to do a messy fucking job and send her home with no supplies except blood thinners for the blood clot they found in her leg. Meanwhile, she’s also losing pints of blood to the brain-sized tumor protruding from her ass.
Had we not arrived at the precise time we did, she could have died. But after spending a week with her, cleaning their entire house top to bottom, more than once, spending all our money on ostomy bags that should have lasted more than a month but they somehow blow through in a fucking DAY. We had only packed enough to stay for a week but it became apparent that we would need to be the ones providing her end of life care, no matter what that looks like.
The plan is to spend a week back home, packing and raising funds, and then going back to stay in a hotel room, offer to move her in and start to bring in hospice care to provide what she needs. Obviously my spouse must take an extended FMLA break from work but that doesn’t pay ANYTHING, it merely assures they won’t lose their job when they get back after 12 weeks.
Stormy’s grandpa, Tammy’s own father, refuses to help us even though he has plenty of money. He says we have to figure it out ourselves. He even offered to help get us there only a few weeks ago and took that back right away. He also offered to give us the money if we drove down. Well we spent everything getting to Texas and he refused to see us. The only shining spot of hope has been my sister-in-law who just went through an end of life process with her grandfather and has graciously been helping us through with what she’s learned and supplies she’s accrued. If not for her and my brother, we would have had nowhere to stay this past week. But we put someone out of their room for a whole week and I can’t in good conscience ask them for more.
Here’s what we need to accomplish: We need to get her dogs spayed and their shots done so we can work on rehoming them.
We need enough money to pay for our hotel stay (even at a discounted rate). And also for the gas to get back and forth across the states that separate us, food, bedding, and anything else we may need for the undetermined amount of time we’ll be there. Listen. I have seen you reblog posts to raise funds for a fucking cat. Do Not let this post pass you by.
Do not like this post.
Likes do no good, and I WILL block anyone who does. Reblog and donate only, I cannot be more serious. You will be blocked for life. No exceptions.
This used to be an art blog but until we get what we need, this is what I’m posting. Every day. As long as I have to. If that offends you, I recommend you unfollow me now. Family is more important to me than the amount of followers I have on fucking tumblr.
So if you have a soul, please reblog. It’s the very least anyone could do.
If you want to donate, please do so here.
PayPal
CashApp: $Kelsifur
Spread this far and wide, please.
TL;DR: Mother in law is dying. We need help ASAP. Please don’t be a dick about this and don’t press the like button or risk being blocked for life. Reblog and donate only.
My mama was diagnosed with stage 4 anal cancer 4/9 and has a softball sized tumor. I'd really like to go see her in Texas. It's a 20 hour drive there and back and we need $350 for gas and food for a week. My mental health isn't great right now and I can't thank ya'll enough for any help possible. B**sts deeply appreciated
Cash@pp$stormybuckles
My husband @magicbubblepipe has commissions open, info in pinned post on his blog
Hey Folks! Time to make another commission post since it is no longer Christmas and “ho ho bitches” is a bit out of place any other time of
My Paypal
Seriously, any help would be amazing ❤
Just had to stitch these bits together. It really has everything to make me insane
This happened and Link let it
your username hits different now 😭 #bringbacktherandler
OMG 🥺
Anon, you are too sweet! #feelingthelove
Thanks @illuminated-in-darkness and @scififantasies for tagging me! Four songs you've been listening to lately:
I'll tag @beautifulduckweed @citrinekay @illgiveyouallofme @magicbubblepipe
Thanks for the tag!
A random selection from my recently played:
I'll tag: @deviouslydeplorable @remembertherandler @jaynovz @vice-versa-vane
Eyoo! Thanks for the tag!
This is a dead blog, but if anyone sees this and is down for a good time, tag me! :)
I leave this place for a while and come back to find out tumblr intends to institute a subscription model?
They do realize that no sane human would type their credit card information into this hellsite, correct? Besides, this place subsists on shitposts reblogged on shitpost. How are we gonna attach our shitposts to shitposts we haven’t paid for? And who’s paying for the original shitpost in the first place?
I have so many questions, and I know staff doesn’t have the answers.
Is writing fic in another fandom a form of cheating? I feel dirty.
It’s like they think they need pretenses to smack each other on the ass. Just grab the cinnamon roll already and we can all die happy.