#REAL FUCKED UP

[leupagus]

Okay I've been drinking but I gotta say

I keep seeing takes in the Ted Lasso takes about the various favored pairings — be they Rebecca/Ted, Trent/Ted, Roy/Jamie, Roy/Keeley, Keeley/Roy/Jamie, WHATEVER, with this sentiment of "if this relationship does not turn into a romance, then what was the point of the show?"

And that really frustrates me as someone whose most valued and cherished relationships are not romantic, and who will not likely ever have another romantic relationship in her life. Because there's a point to friendships! There's a point to love in all its forms, in all its complexities. Romance is great, absolutely, but to say that there's no "point" to Rebecca and Ted's trust and respect and affection if it doesn't become a romance, or there's no "point" to Trent becoming a Diamond Dog if he and Ted don't start dating, or there's no "point" to Roy and Jamie and Keeley's complicated dance around each other this past season if it doesn't end up in bed — that just makes me really depressed about the limitations people are putting on how people can love each other.

You can absolutely cheer for your favorite ship and hope that it becomes canon — but to reduce all the rest of the show does a disservice to the show itself.

[feathered-serpents]

Glad y'all are liking Atreus and Angrboda's Egypt designs!

Here's your friendly post to remind you nothing bad ever happens in this AU :)

Ever :)

[daincrediblegg]

OK THIS IS NOT A FUCKING DRILL EVERYONE FUCKING REPEAT AFTER ME. THIS IS WHAT YOU WILL DO WHEN YOU WATCH MUPPET CHRISTMAS CAROL THIS YEAR:

You will navigate to the page on disney plus (and it has to be here. Unless someone has actually uploaded the REAL movie anywhere else you cannot get it elsewhere)

BUT YOU WILL NOT HIT PLAY. You won’t do it. Because it’s NOT THE REAL VERSION OF THE FILM AND DISNEY IS FUCKING LYING TO YOU AS IT ALWAYS DOES

You will scroll down HERE. To EXTRAS instead. You MUST GO HERE. This is non -negotiable

THEN YOU WILL SCROLL DOWN TO THE BOTTOM OF THE EXTRAS AND YOU WILL THEN HIT PLAY ON THIS BAD BOY: THE FULL LENGTH VERSION

And you will watch it. And you will thank me for having been so blind and led astray by that stupid fucking mouse. You’re welcome.

[spyglassrealms]

had a fucking hilarious dream that tumblr replaced the "block" function with the far funnier "glock" function, which did the exact same thing except whenever anyone blocked you a random bullet hole, like a png of a bullet hole, would appear on your blog. discourse blogs were unreadable bc you'd go to the page and the sheer amount of bullet hole pngs stacked over the blogs obscured everything. I woke myself up laughing

[buggachat]

decided to subject you all to my mind. and my mind has a lot of feelings about adrien and plagg in real-cat!plagg au.

plagg adopted adrien, not the other way around

(sequel to this post)

[endusviolence]

Rowling isn't denying holocaust. She just pointed out that burning of transgender health books is a lie as that form of cosmetic surgery didn't exist. But of course you knew that already, didn't you?

I was thinking I'd probably see one of you! You're wrong :) Let's review the history a bit, shall we?

In this case, what we're talking about is the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or in English, The Institute of Sexology. This Institute was founded and headed by a gay Jewish sexologist named Magnus Hirschfeld. It was founded in July of 1919 as the first sexology research clinic in the world, and was run as a private, non-profit clinic. Hirschfeld and the researchers who worked there would give out consultations, medical advice, and even treatments for free to their poorer clientele, as well as give thousands of lectures and build a unique library full of books on gender, sexuality, and eroticism. Of course, being a gay man, Hirschfeld focused a lot on the gay community and proving that homosexuality was natural and could not be "cured".

Hirschfeld was unique in his time because he believed that nobody's gender was either one or the other. Rather, he contended that everyone is a mixture of both male and female, with every individual having their own unique mix of traits.

This leads into the Institute's work with transgender patients. Hirschfeld was actually the one to coin the term "transsexual" in 1923, though this word didn't become popular phrasing until 30 years later when Harry Benjamin began expanding his research (I'll just be shortening it to trans for this brief overview.) For the Institute, their revolutionary work with gay men eventually began to attract other members of the LGBTA+, including of course trans people.

Contrary to what Anon says, sex reassignment surgery was first tested in 1912. It'd already being used on humans throughout Europe during the 1920's by the time a doctor at the Institute named Ludwig Levy-Lenz began performing it on patients in 1931. Hirschfeld was at first opposed, but he came around quickly because it lowered the rate of suicide among their trans patients. Not only was reassignment performed at the Institute, but both facial feminization and facial masculization surgery were also done.

The Institute employed some of these patients, gave them therapy to help with other issues, even gave some of the mentioned surgeries for free to this who could not afford it! They spoke out on their behalf to the public, even getting Berlin police to help them create "transvestite passes" to allow people to dress however they wanted without the threat of being arrested. They worked together to fight the law, including trying to strike down Paragraph 175, which made it illegal to be homosexual. The picture below is from their holiday party, Magnus Hirschfeld being the gentleman on the right with the fabulous mustache. Many of the other people in this photo are transgender.

[Image ID: A black and white photo of a group of people. Some are smiling at the camera, others have serious expressions. Either way, they all seem to be happy. On the right side, an older gentleman in glasses- Magnus Hirschfeld- is sitting. He has short hair and a bushy mustache. He is resting one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him. His other hand is being held by a person to his left. Another person to his right is holding his shoulder.]

There was always push back against the Institute, especially from conservatives who saw all of this as a bad thing. But conservatism can't stop progress without destroying it. They weren't willing to go that far for a good while. It all ended in March of 1933, when a new Chancellor was elected. The Nazis did not like homosexuals for several reasons. Chief among them, we break the boundaries of "normal" society. Shortly after the election, on May 6th, the book burnings began. The Jewish, gay, and obviously liberal Magnus Hirschfeld and his library of boundary-breaking literature was one of the very first targets. Thankfully, Hirschfeld was spared by virtue of being in Paris at the time (he would die in 1935, before the Nazis were able to invade France). His library wasn't so lucky.

This famous picture of the book burnings was taken after the Institute of Sexology had been raided. That's their books. Literature on so much about sexuality, eroticism, and gender, yes including their new work on trans people. This is the trans community's Alexandria. We're incredibly lucky that enough of it survived for Harry Benjamin and everyone who came after him was able to build on the Institute's work.

[Image ID: A black and white photo of the May Nazi book burning of the Institute of Sexology's library. A soldier, back facing the camera, is throwing a stack of books into the fire. In the background of the right side, a crowd is watching.]

As the Holocaust went on, the homosexuals of Germany became a targeted group. This did include transgender people, no matter what you say. To deny this reality is Holocaust denial. JK Rowling and everyone else who tries to pretend like this isn't reality is participating in that evil. You're agreeing with the Nazis.

But of course, you knew that already, didn't you?

Edit: Added image IDs. I apologize to those using screen readers for forgetting them. Please reblog this version instead.

[artkaninchenbau]

A h-heartfelt reunion..?

Bonus

[littlemizzlinguistics]

Studying linguistics is actually so wonderful because when you explain youth slang to older professors, instead of complaining about how "your generation can't speak right/ you're butchering the language" they light up and go “really? That’s so wonderful! What an innovative construction! Isn't language wonderful?"

[liquidstar]

Yes, Greece still exists, we didn't all die 2000 years ago. Yes, people speak Greek. You people are so fucking stupid for real. So many of you claim to love ancient shit but can't even acknowledge the actual living culture of the people whose mythology and classics you romanticize. You keep leaving annoying comments about how you just forget Greek people still exist, thinking you're being quirky because you love ancient stuff soooo much that you forgot about the people it came from. You think about it so little you don't even realize that an actual Greek person has to read this shit, making it clear how little you actually care about the culture beyond the romanticized (and westernized) mythology. Don't claim you love Greece, don't use our mythology anymore if you can't acknowledge that we're still around without making it about how little you think about us. It's mind boggling that you'd think a Greek person would read this and think you're anything but obnoxious. Explode.

[homoqueerjewhobbit]

Reading fetish erotica with absolutely pristine and morally upright consent and neat and tidy safer sex practices is like watching a Fast and Furious movie where they stop at every stop sign and signal for every lane change and always obey the speed limit.

[inkskinned]

probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.

we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."

at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.

the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.

the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.

what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.

here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.

[saragrosie]

Sketching while streaming s5...

Jonathan Sims I will learn to draw you (this is my doing. I could draw him however I want and I choose to stick with an image of him in my brain that is difficult for me to draw. Masochism.)

Not s5 Mahtins below I enjoyed drawing cuz hes neat:

(Edit: I yassified Martin in the do not separate cuz I wanted his hair fluffier)

[lylahammar]

skinny ppl learn to shut the fuck up when the conversation isn't about you challenge

[higgsbison]

I got into the falling down holes podcast

[haunted-xander]

Well, I guess you didn't have much of a choice either

[antlermoss]

I used this as a writing exercise I'm sorry. It didn't start that way but it ended up here.

TW: Allergic reactions including but not limited to: Vomiting and blacking out, as well as an unhealthy relationship with death. (Starts when the story breaks)

A wasp like that stung me once, I only saw her for a moment. It was unfair at the time, I was a child and had just been tamed enough to wear shoes outside. I had stepped on so many dead wasps because I wasn't wearing shoes, it finally convinced me.

When I was young, I thought she came out of nowhere and stung me on the foot out of spite. I realize now I was running, I must have struck first. She didn't land on the top of my foot, I must have kicked her. As much as her sting brought me to tears, the force of my foot must've sent her flying. She was so scared, in her own insectoid way, so scared that she was forced to use the venom saved to feed her young on another child.

It hurt back then, but I wasn't afraid. That came when the allergy developed.

I worked at a zoo for a time. Someone had left the mantle of "bee keeper" behind, and I was honored to pick up that mantle. The first attack was the worst, a small sting to my fingertip. Before I knew it, the world was spinning, but I didn't mind. I had always been a boy of frail health, I'd get sick in the sun all too often and it was the middle of July. I went inside and locked myself in a closet, unwilling to burden anyone else with my condition.

I threw up into the sink we filled mop buckets in. I felt so horrid, I laid down on the tile. I didn't realize what was happening until I realized my face had swelled to the point I could feel the difference. When I tried to stand, the world went black and I collapsed.

The world is tainted when you are a child of neglect.

I was so accustomed to not mattering that I wasn't afraid to die, I was afraid to make my death a burden on anyone else. I was only motivated to get up when the idea of shitting myself and surviving crossed my mind. Shame was a greater terror than death.

I was nineteen.

Even then, I only got up to move to the bathroom. I barely made it there, and I told my manager I was fine when she asked. It was much later, when the reaction started calming down, that I shuffled to her office and asked her to tell my boss I had an allergic reaction.

The room was thrown into chaos when I made my condition known, coworkers who cared more about me than those who should have panicked as I tried to downplay what had happened.

If my mom taught me anything, it was how to convince someone there was nothing wrong with me.

I had reactions twice more before my father, who believed me when I told him I was ok, had a reaction himself and realized how very wrong I was. I was forced off of the bee team not by anger or malice, but by the terror in my father's gaze when he realized how close to death I had come.

I moved out last year, just before the surgery that cured the condition my mother should have taken me to be examined when it started. When I began to vomit regularly enough that my stomach muscles would not hurt when it happened. The condition that started when I was far too young to know better when she told me I was exaggerating or faking it.

I am better now. One organ short, with an EpiPen in my car, and I am afraid of bees. Not out of ignorance or hatred of their kind, I love them. God I love them. I wanted to make them my livelihood. No, I am afraid because I want to live. I deserve to live, and I deserve to live well, be happy and kind.

spent the morning pausing gardening to let the cicadakillers (Sphecius speciosus) rest on my hand. very polite boys