Hello and welcome to Hell. Today we’ll be talking about the history of respectability politics and how it can be used to look at issues within the LGBTQ community.
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Respectability by day. Depravity by night.
Six Sexy Words
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“Can a magician kill a man by magic?” Lord Wellington asked Strange.
Strange frowned. He seemed to dislike the question. “I suppose a magician might,” he admitted, “but a gentleman never could.”
— Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (Susanna Clarke)
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In theory there is no dignified way for a lady of a certain age to climb through a window, but nevertheless this one was attempting it. In fact she moved with more than dignity, which is something that is given away free with kings and bishops; what she had was respectability, which is home-made out of cast iron.
Terry Pratchett - The Last Continent
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Selfshippers who ship with weird/unappealing characters. I love you. Like hell yeah you go get with Mr Crocker. Go get with lord faarquad
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as a kid i thought i would graduate from kid problems like cleaning my room to adult problems like jobs and taxes. but instead i have a job and taxes and still have to clean my room. cleaning my room is a lifetime problem. i will never stop having to put my markers away before bedtime. this is a rude way for aging to work.
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If my mom sees a significant amount of blood she gets lightheaded, and has fainted on some occasions. Once it happened when we were kids, I wasn't there to witness it but I heard the story from my dad. Basically my brothers, around 7 or 8 at the time, were playing outside while my mom was making their lunch, and she accidentally cut her finger. It wasn't anything serious, but it drew a fair bit of blood and she passed out. My dad saw this and rushed over, but he didn't really know what to do so he just sort of started slapping her to wake her up (not recommended, but he had no idea and panicked)
At that exact moment my brothers both came in from playing, and all they saw was our mom unconscious on the floor and our dad slapping her. So, like, without even saying a word to each other they both just INSTANTLY start whaling on him, like, full blown attack mode to defend our mom. Which obviously didn't help the situation, but she did wake up and everything was fine.
Now our dad says that he's actually really glad they attacked him over what they thought was going on, because it means he raised good boys. And I still think that's true, they're very good boys.
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The road that led to Treegap had been trod out long before by a herd of cows who were, to say the least, relaxed. It wandered along in curves and easy angles, swayed off and up in a pleasant tangent to the top of a small hill, ambled down again between fringes of bee-hung clover, and then cut sidewise across a meadow. Here its edges blurred. It widened and seemed to pause, suggesting tranquil bovine picnics: slow chewing and thoughtful contemplation of the infinite. And then it went on again and came at last to the wood. But on reaching the shadows of the first trees, it veered sharply, swung out in a wide arc as if, for the first time, it had reason to think where it was going, and passed around.
On the other side of the wood, the sense of easiness dissolved. The road no longer belonged to the cows. It became, instead, and rather abruptly, the property of people. And all at once the sun was uncomfortably hot, the dust oppressive, and the meager grass along its edges somewhat ragged and forlorn. On the left stood the first house, a square and solid cottage with a touch-me-not appearance, surrounded by grass cut painfully to the quick and enclosed by a capable iron fence some four feet high which clearly said, “Move on – we don't want you here.” So the road went humbly by and made its way, past cottages more and more frequent but less and less forbidding, into the village. But the villages doesn't matter, except for the jailhouse and the gallows. The first house only is important; the first house, the road, and the wood.
There was something strange about the wood. If the look of the first house suggested that you'd better pass it by, so did the look of the wood, but for quite a different reason. The house was so proud of itself that you wanted to make a lot of noise as you passed, and maybe even throw a rock or two. But the wood had a sleeping, otherworld appearance that made you want to speak in whispers. This, at least, is what the cows must have thought: “Let us keep its peace; we won't disturb it.”
— Tuck Everlasting (Natalie Babbitt)
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Screw terfs n all but are you normal about transgirls who don't want to medically transition? Are you normal about transguys with boobs who don't wear binders? Are you normal about the trans people who only want to socially transition because that's what's right for them? Are you normal about the transgirls with beards? Are you normal about the transguys who love their curves? Screw terfs, but are you normal about trans people?
Important Edit!!!!!
I don't mean to piggyback off of the success of this post but
A trans person is in need of your financial help
My friend @the-fab-fox is struggling and is in need of help
If you can, please consider donating to him, lord knows he needs it right now
Finley is at risk of losing his living situation, vet bills piling up, and much more
Please consider donating to his fundraiser (linked below) or donating via PayPal (
[email protected]) with a note that it's for the GoFundMe
Edit 2
Thank you for those who have donated so far, it means the world to him and to me!
If you could, please donate further so Finley is able to get the products that he needs!
Please follow this link to understand what and why
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when u go to write a mentally ill person in ur story you are presented two options. the first option is to write your mental illness realistically as you actually experience it with all the ups and downs and people who are like you will resonate with it and feel seen. except every person who reads instagram infographics on mental health that uses the phrase narcicisst for anyone who does anything that crosses them and unironically call themself a dark empath will call you scary and tell you that youre demonizing mentally ill people
the second option is to lie and write inspiration porn for those people to get hard to
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kinda adorable how it takes the moon almost exactly a month to blink
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