#eugene/you

[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.

[kensatou]

"You can tell that there was a wealth of love that went into making this film so I hope people can take just a little bit of that love out with them." - Eugene Lee Yang | Go Behind The Animation for Nimona

[sir-ballister-boldheart]

I would love to include the link to the video but for some reason, Tumblr is goofing and refuses to let me post anything with an external link

Never mind. Here's the link. Suck it Tumblr

Signal boost it if you can so more people know about it!!!

[liminalweirdo]

Long Covid Justice on COVID and LONG COVID from the mask ban teach-in

COVID/SARS-CoV-2 basics

It is NOT seasonal, like the flu is.

Spreads through air, like smoke.

The 6 feet apart rule is no longer great prevention advice.

Handwashing is a great hygiene practice, but transmission via surfaces is unlikely.

Vaccines do NOT prevent transmission. They reduce symptoms and severity for some.

You can transmit [COVID] while completely asymptomatic. Around half of transmission is as asymptomatic or presymptomatic. Everyone's immune system is different.

Being indoors increases risk of transmission, but you can still get it in crowded outdoor spaces.

What is Long Covid?

Long Covid is a set of health issues after someone has COVID-19

New health issues, ongoing issues, or worsening of previous symptoms and conditions.

It is a biological disease that affects hundreds of millions of people globally. It is a mass disabling condition and crisis.

It can cause significant disability and can be fatal.

Anyone can develop it, and up to 10% of people with COVID will.

Severity of initial infection doesn't correlate to potential to develop Long COVID.

It can be very hard to get a diagnosis and proper treatment or care for Long COVID.

Every time you get COVID infection, you increase your chances of developing Long COVID.

How do we prevent Long COVID? Layers of protection

Masking.

Air filtration.

Ventilation.

Vaccines.

Testing (right now Aug 2024, rapid tests are only about 20% reliable. Try to test two times in 24-48 hours).

Nasal sprays before and after exposure. (little data on these being effective against COVID but some are choosing to use them until more research comes out)

Mouthwashes with CPC (Cetylpyridinium Chloride) before and after exposure. (Must be used for at least 60 seconds)

[clarionglass]

here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed. 

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

[despazito]

Yes we founded this hobby in late victorian europe where we divide animals of the same species from around the globe into races and measure them with calipers and put extreme emphasis on blood purity and conformity but WE SWEAR this has zero links to the eugenics movement that was coincidentally happening at the exact same time and place

[trueebeauty]

“Are you afraid of me?”

Are you afraid of them? - lookism men

“You wish.”

Honestly, they wished you were afraid of them sometimes. Then maybe you could see how they weren’t good for you. But then again, they were relieved you weren't afraid. It meant you trusted them, and that trust meant everything to them.

"Ouch, sorry to disappoint. I'll try to be more terrifying next time.”

𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐉𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐊 - 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐈 - 𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐎 𝐌𝐀 

“Sometimes.”

And could they even blame you for that? They scared themselves at times too. Their actions or words occasionally made them question their own intentions or motivations. They understand.

silence, an intense look

 𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 - 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐇𝐄𝐈 𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐀 - 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 - 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆  

“Why would I?”

The pure confusion on your face makes their heart flutter with joy. The thought that you can't fathom any reason to be afraid of them softens their features into a warm smile.

warm smile "You know me better than that." 

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 - 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐍 - 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐌 - 𝐙𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐋𝐄𝐄 - 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 - 𝐉𝐀𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆 (everyone listed here is a GREEN FLAG)

“Should I be afraid?”

Good question... Should you be afraid of them? It's not an easy question to answer. They know they can be intimidating at times, even if they don't intend to be.

considers for a long moment "Sometimes I'm not sure myself."

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 - 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐍 - 𝐄𝐋𝐈 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐆 - 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐍𝐀 - 𝐉𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐊 

“You should be.”

𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐎 - 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐁 𝐉𝐈 - 𝐕𝐈𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐍

( + the ‘yOu ShOuLd bE’ : 𝐄𝐔𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄 - 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐁𝐀𝐄𝐊 )

“Nah. You’re a big softie.”

You're absolutely right. They don't even know why they asked such a question. Despite their attempts to come across as tough or intimidating at times, deep down they're quite gentle and kind-hearted.

smiles tenderly "Only for you."

 𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐄 - 𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐊𝐖𝐎𝐍 - 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 - 𝐉𝐈𝐁𝐄𝐎𝐌 𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐊 - 𝐉𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐊 - 𝐇𝐔𝐃𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐇𝐍 ( + dare I say : 𝐕𝐈𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐍 )

“Yeah. I mean, kinda. No... Definitely.”

Definitely. You should run for the hills when it comes to them. Their words and actions are unpredictable and even dangerous at times. Being afraid of them is a completely understandable response. 

nods solemnly "Smart move. The real me is best avoided."

𝐆𝐔𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 - 𝐆𝐎𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐌 - 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐄 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 - 𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐌 - 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐎 - 𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐉𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐍 ( aka - THE RED FLAGS)

"I'm working on it, I swear. This isn't who I want to be..."

𝐆𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐈𝐌 - 𝐄𝐋𝐈 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐆 - 𝐘𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

[drewsephrry]

Drew Starkey the man that you are!!

[andromeddog]

belief and such

[writerswho]

Wednesday: Enid texted me “your adorable” so I texted her back and said “no, YOU’RE adorable.”

Eugene: And?

Wednesday: And now we’re dating. We’ve been on six dates. All I did was point out a typo, but I like her, so I’m not gonna say anything.

[bidoofenergy]

pleas please ambrosius is the model knight, he's what all knights should aspire to be, he comes from the right family he does well in training, he's the model knight, he works within an institution because it benefits him--as long as he works in it, because the second the director thinks he's questioning things too much she kills him--are you picking up what im putting down? he keeps his true feelings buried--never show doubt, don't show conflict, keep your head down, do what you're told, aren't you so lucky to have this chance, aren't you glad you were born as you are and not like the others--are you hearing what im saying

(listen to eugene lee yang talk about this on the trypod)

[hanatatami]

SEASON 03 SOON LET'S GO!!!!

[nightmaretour]

Anti-technology people who insist they're not ableist crack me up. What about people who rely on machines to breathe, eat, keep their heart functioning, or otherwise stay alive? "Well not that technology, obviously!" Ok what about AAC users, people who use hearing aids, or otherwise use technology to interact with the world in ways they otherwise couldn't? "Not that technology, obviously." Okay, my mobile phone is my memory, my sense of time, my sense of direction when I get lost, my ability to contact someone when I need help. It is my personal freedom because without it I would need full time care and supervision. But yes, that technology, right?

I hate how technology is made and utilised under capitalism as much as the next guy, but to pretend that technology doesn't greatly improve the lives of countless people, or even allow them to continue being alive, is to be willfully ignorant to the existence of disabled people. A world without technology is a world where a lot of disabled people don't get to survive. Capitalism is the problem, not the technology. Technology can (and should) exist just fine without capitalism.

[laurapetrie]

The tender, dreamy girl - in books she seeks and finds her dreams.

— Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin (1833)

[liminalweirdo]

source

4 Reasons to (Re)Normalize Masking

1. Apathy is violence: resist white supremacy by refusing to contribute to mass infection, disability, and death.

2. Destroy the state's argument that masking is only used by "criminals" to hide their identities.

3. Protect mask wearers from targeting: cops can't single them out if everyone is wearing a mask.

4. Combat the exclusion and erasure of disabled people from public spaces by making them safer.

[mobius-m-mobius]

I want to talk to you... Without speaking.

QUEER (2024) dir. Luca Guadagnino