#that's enough anon

[not-poignant]

Hi, Pia....

So, I used to love shounen and shoujo manga equally, also (het) romance stories from various books. But ever since I found BL manga & danmei books, 3 years ago, my interest in shoujosei (especially het romance) decrese a lot, and what I search for is just the dynamic between mc (male) and male lead. I don't want to read mc (female) and male lead or mc (male) and female lead. Like I become fed up with m/f pairings. And what I want to read mostly are just mlm or wlw stories....

What do you think is happening to me? Is it really weird?

I don't think it's weird at all!

It's normal for people's tastes to change over time for a lot of different reasons. For example a lot of people love m/m because they're just less likely to find certain tropes there than they are in heterosexual romances.

And because of that, they feel more drawn to m/m because they can escape certain strictures of heteronormativity (even though aspects are present) that can allow relationships and characters to be presented differently!

Things like this can cause readers - regardless of their sexuality or gender - to gravitate towards certain genders or sexualities in romance and it's not necessarily a commentary on who they are, but on the tropes they love to read, and the tropes they want to avoid.

It's good to reflect or think about what you might be noticing as the differences between the things you love and the things you're gaining distance from. When I was younger I read a lot of Mills & Boon romance, back when there was a lot of dubcon in it. I literally didn't have other options at the time, the internet didn't really exist.

When I started getting other options I was realising for the first time that hundreds upon hundreds of new tropes, or new ways of writing old tropes and themes, existed, and I got to make more choices, more freely.

You might find it's the same! Especially if you're younger, or especially if you're just discovering these tropes and themes now.

There's so, so many reasons to be drawn to certain pairings, and sometimes sitting down and non-judgmentally reflecting on that can be really helpful. The non-judgmental part is important.

One day you might drift away from what you love now and love something else more instead! It's really really normal for many people to go through different phases not just in genre, but in all sorts of things! I have been obsessed with BL again for the last two years, but I spent like three years not reading it much at all, and reading a lot of nonfiction instead. Where our minds and our desires and our thoughts take us, often show that we're growing or changing as people, picking up a lot of different tales and narratives on the way.

Honestly that's cool, it's not weird at all

[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.

[dotssu3]

tfw when you're not lactose intolerant

[technically-human]

Payneland² 

[stuckinapril]

lol I can’t fucking afford groceries, so sorry my attention isn’t 24/7 on Palestine 🙄

listen i feel u. i do. but i honestly cannot get over how immature these asks are (and i've received a few of them by now, cannot imagine the volume of them actual palestinians get) bc it should be an unspoken caveat that a lot of these posts are not targeted at people who're living paycheck to paycheck, working busy lives, have copious amounts of shit to deal w etc etc. the problem comes in when you go out of your way to ridicule genocide by sending asks like this, especially to people who lost family members to israeli attacks. i know this isn't the social etiquette site, but someone has to tell you it's incredibly rude, distasteful, tone deaf, disrespectful...

if you can't afford to do anything, okay. keep it pushing instead of going to people's inboxes trying to make an obvious point.

and if you do have time or money and you're not doing nearly enough, you are the problem.

it's literally that simple.

[canisalbus]

✦ Coffee Shop AU ✦

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

pls pls heard me out...FIDDLESTAN! <3

ok, i got this ask ten days ago, and I've been thinking about it ever since. Because I got two other asks asking for fiddauthor, and I dON'T KNOW HOW TO LET THEM DOWN LIGHTLY BECAUSE I'M A FIDDLESTAN BITCH THROUGH AND THROUGH 😭😭😭😭 I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!!!!!

Don't get me wrong, fiddauthor is great and makes sense and everything. But listen. Billford and fiddauthor are multidimensional ships, they are good! But FIDDLESTAN!?!? that shit is the WHAT-THE-HECK-A-HEDRON!!!!!!! Even though it's literally 100% speculation, the implications are FUCKING CRAZY!!!!!!!!! I jumped between three ships so far during this gravity falls thing, each time thinking one is better than the other. I've decided that FIDDLESTAN IS KING!!!!!! I'm sorry. I could rant about them forever. I've been listening to nothing but extended versions of disco music for the past week. (YES THEY HAD A CRAZY ROMANTIC FLING IN VEGAS NO I WILL NOT ELABORATE!!!! (yes i will. I will elaborate at some point. it will be like ten pages or text. or I will draw it. idk.))

Here is a sketchbook doodle from like a week ago. I'm gonna post another fiddlestan thing in a few moments, but my style changes like I'm a completely different artist every week without warning, so I'm gonna leave this by itself!

He comes into YOUR house, he steals YOUR identity, and he fucks YOUR research partner!!! Fuck you!!!!!!!!!!

[animatedtext]

[urhoneycombwitch]

gonna take edibles for the first time in a WEEK this shit better send me to da moon. or else 😠

[lesbianviolet]

happy to report that im sooooooooooooooooo normal ^-^ and will continue to be so

[harmonysanreads]

Yan Sunday’s darling looking him straight in the eye and biting into the halovian burger.

It is a threat.

“Sunday, look here for a second.” the Oak Family Head nearly failed to win the wrestle against the maelstrom of noises clamoring around the Golden Hour and distinguish your call from them. It was not his honed senses that provided the sole aid this time, rather, it was the syrupy lilt that dripped from your words and rendered him momentarily off-guard.

That is a weakness he'd like to believe he no longer surrenders to, while it is true he unquestionably would have if one was to focus on an earlier point of his life, Sunday would prefer to believe his tastes have since matured and his restraint has hardened. Indeed, Sunday is no more defeated by sugary pastries and cream-filled buns — where he crumbles to incorrigible pieces inside are moments like this, before a different species of sweetness. That, is another discovery altogether.

While he's left to collect and fix the bits back into rational human behavior, you revel in his predicament, as you do every time he lets slip an extra scrap of leniency. You don't hesitate to praise him for his cruelty, but he's always suspected you to be the sadist. A devil, a siren, an apparition that'll curse him to smithereens — there's no end to your list of virtues. It's not that he complains, that would be hypocritical as he's both the causation and correlation to your spirited schemes.

It's one of those burgers, but Sunday has always cherished a belief of it being the failed offspring between a donut and a burger instead. He's seen them his whole life (not that he's ever indulged in one of them) which is why the apparent normalcy of its appearance didn't ring any alarm bells in his head initially. One look into your pointed stare tells him that you have a purpose, but his attention is instead riveted to the movements of your lips.

You start by taking a bite out of the bread coated in cream, smearing your lips with the delicacy in the process before clumsily licking the cream with a swipe of your tongue ; Sunday stands frozen, thoroughly perplexed. Then, you lean towards the middle section occupied by two wing-like shapes, checking once to confirm that he was still watching before sinking your teeth into one of them.

... Oh.

It takes every atom of his body and every bit of his soul to continue playing statue, to not let anything more than a strangled breath escape and allow your face to be painted in the colors of smug satisfaction for months to come. Knowing you, he doubts you're ignorant to the fact that this time you've really hit a spot. So he stands there like a sculpture of disbelief, watching you finish the cursed burger for five whole minutes as vehicles fly past and by-standers cast questioning looks at the mute spectacle. By the time you're sated, he feels as though he's aged ten years.

“Mr. Sunday will pay for it, thank you!” you chirp at the confused shop keeper.

Just when he thinks his misery is over, you pull your ace ; licking clean the residual taste of the burger from your fingers, knowing painstakingly well how much he dislikes it. This level of audacity short-circuits Sunday's brain and he's unable to do anything but replay the image of a stray sprinkle still clinging to one corner of your lips as you skip away in search of more ways to torture him senseless.

[bunnieswithknives]

OK JUST A LITTLE THING BECAUSE IM INSANE @cubbihue

Song: Plastic by Cheekface

[feliformiaboy]

does it know? 🤔

[stuckinapril]

I love Tumblr because nothing matters here truly. There are no influencers. Having followers doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a site where people post their sporadic thoughts and rb pretty pictures. Anyone who thinks any of this matters is woefully missing the point

[blindmagdalena]

I’m so sorry Amy this is NASTY but from the moment I saw the chest fuzz on HL my first thought was how sensitive it would make the nips when fucking cause of the texture

18+ homelander x reader. boob stuff, body hair appreciation, overstimulation, flying sex, cream pie. never apologize to me i will always make it nastier. 🖤

At first the brush of it is divine. It wrings a gasp from low in the back of your throat, has you kneading the taut muscles of his back while he pounds into you. Homelander's body hair isn't overly coarse, but it hardly matters when his chest is pressed flush to yours, his lips on your throat.

You feel his every huff and whimper more than you hear them. They pair perfectly with the desperate grip he has on your hips, holding you in place with his whole body as he fucks you against the ceiling.

Now the grind of his chest against yours is beginning to take a toll. You shiver with his every move, growing more and more tender with the friction. Your cunt quivers tight around his cock and he stifles a hot moan into the crook of your neck.

His cock, more thick than long and nicely curved, strokes that sweet spot inside you that strikes stars behind your eyelids with every snap of his hips. You fist your hand in his hair and pull until his lips meet yours.

"Fuck," he gasps against your lips, threads of saliva snapping between your hungry mouths. "You drive me fucking crazy."

"Don't blame me for that," you respond breathlessly, licking right back into his mouth. "You were there when I got here."

He grins, giving a ravenous little growl and a sharp thrust. "Fine. Crazier."

The two of you climax like that, entwined and floating high off the ground, your ascension halted only by the height of the ceiling. Only once the aftershocks fade out does Homelander begin to sink back down to the bed. You feel as if you're in the clouds, floating on euphoria and his warm, soft body.

Still trembling, you lift yourself up. This is how you had started; astride him, riding him until the wild bucks of his hips had lifted you both up, up, up.

You smooth your hands down your own chest, goosebumps erupting everywhere. You give his pec a slap, the thwap of it dulled by the padding of hair. "You rug burned my whole chest," you chastise, though your tone is colored by your smile.

He sucks in a breath, contemplating the condition of your skin as he blows out a raspberry. He cups your breasts in gentle hands and pushes them together and up, meeting the pearl-soft flesh of them with his lips. He kisses apologies all over each one, flicking his tongue over your nipples for the way you gasp and tug his hair when he does.

His spent cock, still buried deep inside you, throbs valiantly as he sucks one breast into his mouth, tonguing your nipple in slow circles. You shudder and grind down in retaliation, the both of you hyper-sensitive, moving leisurely against one another as your satiation passes and the need for more grows.

You ride him slow and deep until he comes again. You rub your clit to the feel of his mouth on your chest and his come dripping out of you until you, too, orgasm, the tight spasm of your cunt reducing the most powerful man in the world to a simpering mess between your thighs.

The two of you untangle your limbs only to jigsaw right back together, his back to your sensitive chest, your arms around him, fingers scratching through the very hair you complained about.

"I could start waxing again," he says, words lazily slurring together.

"Don't you dare," you murmur, nuzzling the spot just behind his ear, kissing the shell of it. He interlaces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand to his chest. "You're perfect as is."

You don't need to see him to know he's smiling. You feel it in the slant of his lips when he presses the back of your hand to them.

[extremely-nervess]