#have we considered it

[youngpettyqueen]

your julian and keiko post made me want more of them so can I get a 🎲 for them?

YES so happy to get this thank you for giving me an excuse to write them. they are on my BRAIN

you rolled... 30! a kiss to the palm of the hand. which I think is very fitting for these two hehe. went for something simple and cute for this one, hope you enjoy!!

"I can't believe I did that." Keiko huffs, trying not to wince as Julian inspects the cuts scored into her hand.

"Oh, don't beat yourself up, Keiko," Julian says, gently angling her hand to get a better look, "It could've happened to anybody! And these aren't bad, just a quick once-over with the good ol' dermal regenerator and you'll be fit as a fiddle." He assures her.

He's very sweet, but unfortunately for him, Keiko is determined to be annoyed about this. "Oh, sure, anybody could've made that mistake," She agrees, "But I'm not anybody! I'm a professional! And I should know the difference between a scarlet dawnbird and a scarlet dragonbite, so that things like this," She gestures at her wounded hand, "Don't happen."

It really was a rookie mistake. She'd spotted the signature red petals of what she thought was a scarlet dawnbird- a gorgeous flowering plant native to Bajor, with large bright red blooms that light up when the sun hits them just so- and she'd been thrilled because it would've been her first time spotting one in person. They're rare flowers, and have a very short blooming season. Well, in her excitement, she forgot to check the stems, which would've told her if they were dawnbirds, or dragonbites.

Dawnbirds have smooth, sturdy stems with large, velvety leaves. Dragonbites also have large, velvety leaves, which do a wonderful job of hiding the wicked sharp thorns that cover the entire length of the stem.

And Keiko went ahead and grabbed the stem so that she could show Julian the blossom in the sun. She only succeeded in slicing her hand into ribbons.

Julian gives her a smile. The one that says I know what you're doing. He's far too good at reading her. "Yes, how silly of me," He hums, "I forgot you, the great Keiko O'Brien, were immune to error. Do forgive me." He fishes out his dermal regenerator and gets to work, making quick work of healing her hand.

Keiko sighs. She knows she's being ridiculous. He doesn't need to tell her- she knows. "It's not that I'm immune to error," She says, her tone softening somewhat, "I should just be immune to... these kinds of mistakes. I know better than to just grab at plants before identifying them. I was just... excited." Like a happy little schoolgirl, she leaves out.

"Well, I can hardly fault you for that," Julian replies. He's got his doctor voice on- the one he uses to soothe a patient. She's seen him use it on all kinds, from Klingons nursing stab wounds to Molly with skinned knees. It's very soothing, settling her agitated mood, despite herself, "You said those dawnbirds are quite rare, yes? I'd be excited, too, in your shoes."

Keiko feels herself starting to smile. He makes it too easy. She shouldn't be surprised that he remembers her talking about them, he remembers almost everything, but it's still nice. "I wanted to show you," She admits, even though it makes her cheeks flush, "The dawnbirds get their name from the shape of their petals, and from the way they light up when the sun hits them. They glow, Julian- Nerys says they're like embers. And I've never seen one in person, so I thought..." She glances at her hand, healed now, the only sign of injury being the blood that's dried in the lines of her palm and fingers, "I thought it'd be nice if you got to see it, too."

Julian takes a moment to clean off her hand, scrubbing away any evidence that she'd ever been hurt. "That's very sweet," He tells her, his smile going warm and affectionate in that cute way it does, "That you wanted to share that moment with me, I mean. And here I thought I was the romantic one." There's a teasing lilt to his voice. His hands linger on hers.

"Well," Keiko puts on her best winning smile, bats her lashes, "I have my moments."

"That you do," Julian agrees with a chuckle. He checks her hand again and nods, satisfied, "There you are, Mrs. O'Brien. Good as new. Just one more thing." He says.

"Oh?" Keiko raises a brow, "I thought you said it only needed the dermal regenerator."

"A dermal regenerator is all well and good," Julian says, "But it's got nothing on..." And then he lifts her hand to his face, presses a kiss to her palm, "That," He gives her a grin, and lets her take her hand back, "How's it feel?"

Keiko blushes again. She can practically feel the shade of red she's going. She flexes her fingers experimentally, and as promised, her hand is good as new. "Feels just perfect." She tells him.

"Good," Julian pushes himself up, gives himself a quick dust-off, "Now, shall we head back before Miles sends out a search party?" He holds his hand out to her.

Keiko takes it. "Lead the way." She invites, letting him pull her to her feet. He doesn't let go of her hand, and she makes no move to drop his. His thumb brushes over her knuckles, and she leans into his side, bumping her shoulder against his.

Somewhere along the way, she forgets she was ever annoyed.

[shrubsparrow]

It's in the eye of the beholder

[eosofspades]

i didn't have "i'm broken" teenage asexual angst i had "i'm literally being the only reasonable one about this concept and the rest of you are behaving like fucking freaks" perception issues

[valtsv]

will never understand the misogynistic inclination to pigeonhole every female character into the "exasperated sensible mom friend" role as if there's anything better than a woman so devoid of maternal instincts that she makes wire mother look soft. woman who rolls over and walks out onto the balcony to smoke a post-coital cigarette alone and leaves without a note or any kind of acknowledgement after sleeping with you because she can't stand the vulnerability of sleeping next to someone, or waking up beside them the following morning. woman whose idea of relaxing is abusing substances alone in a dark corner somewhere, and snarling and snapping at anyone who approaches her, regardless of intent. woman so emotionally unavailable she fails or refuses to notice that her lame ass partner is trying to push the divorce papers until they've taken the kids and left a heartfelt but scathing note pinned to the fridge. woman with more vices than genuine friends. woman whose expression stays blank and arms remain limply at her sides when you wrap her up in yours for a hug. woman without a gentle touch in her body, with nothing but rough edges and sharp angles.

[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.

[halfsixwakeup]

[apollos-olives]

before october 7th this blog was a meme page btw.

[chloesimaginationthings]

The FNAF Mikes talk about their extended family..

[audible301]

Consider me a follower of the Ankarna Cassandra Ruvina Galicaea misunderstood lesbian pantheon

[bacchuschucklefuck]

no more fan-ta-sizing about it! everything's already changed~

[rileyclaw]

you know how everything is like a hundred times funnier when you're not allowed to laugh??

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[oscarlovesthesea]

ok but he was fully flirting here. I think it's so funny that Charles was like "idk if I'm in love with you but we have all eternity to figure it out" and then literally an episode later he was like "welp time to start thinking about this!" and immediately started openly flirting with Edwin. you go bisexual king

[myrkulitescourge]

the way that one line from the new epilogue in an astarion romance is going to HAUNT me

just. what a profoundly intense thing to confess to someone.

like, just these six months of newfound happiness with you exerts a force on his heart equal and in direct opposition to two centuries of endless torment, the gnawing hunger and exploitation. this flashbulb-bright fraction of his long life holds the same gravity to him as years upon years of darkness and suffering.

in all likelihood, he hasn’t even known his lover for as long as his worst memory lasted, that year sealed away to go mad from starvation and sensory deprivation, yet he still tells them this brief time has been so fundamentally and powerfully important that the weight of even that unimaginable hell is vanishingly small compared to this present he has now and the future ahead of them both.

how am i supposed to act normal about this.

[bottombaron]

The scarest thing about Nandor being actually smart in all things Guillermo is that this is the reason why he'll never make the move to be with him:

Nandor already knows how he feels about Guillermo.

He's not even repressing it. He's just made peace with it. Because Guillermo was never an option.

Guillermo is human. He'll choose to stay human. He's fleeting. He'll always leave in some form or fashion. Nandor doesn’t choose to act on his feelings for Guillermo for the same reason why he never turned him. It would just be a curse.

[kaahmbem]

legend has it that the young witch circe and the once beautiful nymph scylla shared a complicated past...