#including the one I fucking work at

[wokeuplaughing]

just beginning to settle for me how reflective of our culture it is that the current biggest meme online is the fact that barbie and oppenheimer coincidentally come out on the same day. barbie is a multi million dollar plot by matel both to sell more products and to increase media engagement since that's where the future is for advertising their products and oppenheimer is a dramatization of the only time nukes were ever used in war that targeted two civilian cities and killed thousands upon thousands of innocent people from the perspective of the man who developed it and viewed it as a necessary evil to end a war that was basically already over. girlbosses and bombs! isn't everyone having fun

[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.

[benevolenterrancy]

May your hardened heart be woken By the soft and distant song Of all you left here unspoken All the shards we keep stepping on - Take this body home Take this body home Call the wind, and let her know Take this life outgrown Take this broken soul Call the stars, call them all And take it high, take it far, take it home

[avalencias]

I don’t know what to do—I have to trust someone—I don’t know who to trust

massive, massive props to aabria for this episode (here at this point and after!!)…to all of them really, but it was about here that I was driving yesterday morning and had to frantically try to hold the image in my head for the rest of my commute. I only kind of succeeded but it is what is. wow. what an episode

[shalomniscient]

as the world caves in. || multiple x reader

AND HERE IT IS / OUR FINAL NIGHT ALIVE / AND AS THE EARTH BURNS TO THE GROUND / OH GIRL IT’S YOU THAT I LIE WITH / AS THE ATOM BOMB LOCKS IN / OH GIRL IT’S YOU / I WATCH TV WITH / AS THE WORLD CAVES IN

cw. major character death

notes. felt silly

arlecchino

You find her against a broken pillar.

Her once pristine suit is in tatters. You can’t even discern anymore where red fabric ends and blood begins. The black feather-like horn in her hair has cracked, revealing crimson enamel, pulsing in tune with the balemoon above both your heads. Her curse, once up to her elbows, has creeped up to her shoulders, her neck, and just below her jaw. Each breath she takes is labored, pained. One of her wings lies uselessly by her side, while the other is just a stump.

She will die here.

But that’s fine, because you plan on dying right along with her.

Arlecchino’s head snaps up as you hobble over to her. The second coming of the cataclysm hadn’t exactly spared you either; a rifthound’s cursed teeth had sunk deep into your thigh. The wound is likely fatal on its own, though the abyssal corruption spreading through you at an alarming rate only solidifies your death sentence. Still, it doesn’t stop Arlecchino from snapping at you as you approach, brows furrowed, her clawed hands digging into dead soil.

“What are you doing here?” she hisses. You really know the extent of her injuries and exhaustion now—if she was in even slightly better condition, she’d have picked you up and flown you right back somewhere safe. But she isn’t, so you let yourself slide down the pillar next to her with a snort.

“What does it look like?” you huff. “I’m here for you, idiot.”

She gives you a look between incredulity and despair. “You—“

“If you think I’d ever leave you behind, I’m going to smack you.”

Arlecchino quiets at that briefly. You lean your head back against the pillar, a remnant of a building ravaged by the angry surge of the Abyss, and shut your eyes. You can feel Arlecchino’s eyes bore into the side of your face, tracing the line of your jaw, the swell of your cheek, then the shape of your lips, as if to memorize you. When she speaks again, her voice is remarkably soft.

“You’ll die,” she whispers, and you turn your head to her with a smile, meeting her eyes. You take her larger hand in your own—your wedding bands meet with a soft clink of metal.

“I’d follow you to oblivion and back, Peruere.”

Something in her expression shutters, and Peruere leans down to press her forehead against your own. She’s so close, like this. Close enough for you to see the way the veins and arteries in her neck pulse under curse-marked skin to a beat that mirrors your own; close enough for you to feel the way her breath fans over your cheek; close enough for you to kiss her.

And you do, free hand cradling her cheek while the other cups the nape of her neck. Peruere returns the kiss like she’s trying to press her soul against your lips. To give it to you instead of whatever higher power will claim it in the end. Her hand in yours squeezes gently, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. Her remaining wing rises, a little shakily, and wraps around you, pulling you closer. You smile into the kiss, even as wetness gathers in your lashes.

Peruere wipes them away with her thumb. Draws back just enough to look you in the eyes one last time, selfishly. The earth wails in the distance, cracking and splintering, and the wind howls above your heads. The crimson balemoon shines impassively down as the herald of the apocalypse, cold and unfeeling. But Peruere’s wing around you is warm, and her palm caressing your cheek feels like being at home.

“To oblivion and back,” Peruere whispers, and then the world ends—

—but at least for you and her, it ends in love.

shalom

Shalom has always known you would meet a solitary end. She had said as much to you, back in the bureau when she had first met you—or rather, when you had first met her, in your fragmented memory. And some part of her was content with the fact. She’s smart, diligent. A HUSH. She could learn you utterly and completely, dive into and discover the depths of your heart before her time runs out.

She does achieve her goal, in the end. But she also falls terribly in love with you, and now the thought of being without you makes her unbroken heart constrict in her chest.

Now here she stands, in this field of lillies she once haunted. This realm of Mania, deceptively beautiful, with a cloudless blue sky stretching on endlessly. She can feel the gaze of the Illusory Moon crawl up her spine, but that is not her concern. No, her concern is you, standing off into the distance, alone—a solitary figure of grey against the blinding white. And somehow, you just know she’s there; like Orpheus for Eurydice, like something bone deep in you compels you to turn around and look.

But Shalom doesn’t disappear like Eurydice. Instead, she steps forward and slots herself into your arms instead with a hum, her hands splaying on your shoulder blades, holding you close. She buries her head in your neck, breathes in your scent—lillies, always lillies—and speaks.

“This is it, then.”

You nod. Card your fingers through her wine-red hair. “This is it.”

“It’s quite peaceful,” she muses, shifting to rest her ear against your chest. Your heartbeat thuds, calm and powerful, and Shalom lets her eyes flutter shut at the rhythm. You manage a small chuckle.

“For now. It’ll get quite ugly soon, at least on the outside,” you murmur. Your lips press a kiss to the top of her head. “You shouldn’t be here.”

She laughs at that. “There are many things I shouldn’t be, and yet, here we are. Mostly because of you, you know.”

“You know what I mean,” you huff, and she smiles. Of course she does. This is your solitary end, the cold calculus of the universe that demands your life in exchange for the world. If she was still HUSH, she’d see it as a bargain. But she’s not HUSH anymore, just Shalom, and suddenly the price is too high, too unacceptable.

“I know.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I’m selfish,” she admits, voice barely above the breeze rustling the flowers by your feet. “I don’t want to be in a world without you.”

Not when you are the one who gives it meaning.

You’re silent for a moment, before a rueful expression pulls at your lips. You shake your head with an affectionate sigh, resting your forehead against hers. You know better than to argue with her. Your hand finds hers, intertwining your fingers and squeezing gently. No words are exchanged between you, but no words are necessary. Her hand squeezes back, and then you’re turning, facing the growing light at the end of the horizon. You’re her Orpheus amidst the flowers, leading her forward step by step until the light devours you both. To life, or to death, she doesn’t know. She doesn’t quite care.

For like Eurydice, what else mattered besides the hand in her own, the proof that she was loved?

kujou sara

Sara once thought she knew pain. Cuts and bruises, arrowheads and sword slashes—none of these are new to her. Her body is a canvas of scars from her time as a warrior, some pale and faded, while others are pink and freshly healed. Pain is inevitable, in a profession such as hers. Sara once thought she knew pain, but nothing could have ever prepared her for the agony of seeing tears paint your soft cheeks as you lie in her arms, staining the burnt soil below you red with your blood.

It feels like someone has reached into her chest, fingers curling around her heart and squeezing tight. Everything else has faded to a dull sensation; the arrows lodged in her wings as she shields you both from the world; the gash in her side from an axe-wielding hilichurl; the throb in her skull from when an Abyss Herald had managed to get a lucky hit in. The war around you both is now an afterthought, even as the skies rage and the Abyss spills forth like a hellish tide. No, the only thing she can focus on is you, as your lips painted red part and whisper to her brokenly.

“Sara,” you choke out, “I love you.”

Sara leans down, pressing her forehead to yours. Her golden eyes meet yours, and she hopes you can see the sincerity within. “I love you too, dearest.”

Your breathing rattles ominously in your chest, and Sara holds you tighter. Closer. A small comfort as death approaches you both on silent feet, ready to collect. Your fingers grip the front of her uniform tightly, staining her white uniform red. “Promise me,” you rasp, and Sara exhales shakily.

“Anything.”

“Find me again,” you plead, your voice so small she would not have heard you, were it not for her tengu senses. “In the next life, promise you’ll find me again—“

She grips your hand tightly. “I promise. I promise, my love, so wait for me.”

She doesn’t even know what awaits either of you beyond this. Is there even such thing as a next life? Heaven? Hell? She doesn’t know, but she doesn’t care. If there is a next life, she will find you, over and over again until the end of time. If heaven doesn’t exist, she’ll build it with her own hands for you. It it does, she’ll meet you there. If hell exists, she’ll carry you out on her back herself. Sara would do anything for you—all you have to do is ask. She kisses you as your breathing slows, your final breath mingling with hers. As death’s shroud settles on her shoulders, she memorises every line on your face, the set of your jaw, the arch of your brows like they’re her north star, to shine forever in her sky and lead her home. Home, wherever you are.

(In another universe, a pair of crows roost on a powerline. In another, a black obi is tied around a beautiful kimono. In another, a museum’s display katana rests peacefully in its delicate sheathe.

In another, she stands hand in hand with you again, looking at them all.)

[temporary-tats]

(click for hi-def pic)

Netflix please let Enid beat the shit out of Tyler again in Season 2 🙏(AND LET EMMA DO HER OWN DAMN WEREWOLF STUNTS THIS TIME)

Per usual, do not reupload without credit/permission. Thanks folks!

(My ko-fi, should you wish!)

[butchdykekondraki]

its time for scp required reading... TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

please for the love of god heed the fucking warnings im so serious . like as much as i want to keep the tone of this post jokey and funny you NEED to heed the warnings on these

ok with that out of the way. read about my blorbos boy

''incident 239-b clef-kondraki'' (general warning for violence and blood/gore) - this one fucks. thats all i have to say about it

''technical issues'' - this one's funny + im biased because i fucking love pat the tech guy

''routine psychological evaluations by doctor glass'' - again i have personal bias about this (<- simon glass enjoyer + host is a glass introj) + this ones funny + if you're more into the fanon versions of the foundation staff this is right up your alley

''tradition'' - halloween party fun :-)

''dr cimmerian hits reply all'' - this is exactly what it sounds like i don't now what to tell you

''stupid cupid / stupid cupid: stop picking on me!'' - my house my rules read about cimmerian and his boytoy

''hawaiian shirts'' - clef fucking Breaks. thats all i can say about this without exploding into viscera

''help me my (love for) my daughter was born too still'' (general warning for mentions of child death) - i have personal bias about this (<- #1 agatha rights enjoyer) but this tale is So Good in general and a super interesting look at how agatha perceives herself and her work/life balance

''so leave yourself alone.'' (warning for graphic depictions of vomit and attempted suicide) - REALLY really really good look at clef kind of dropping his cruel persona and iris' mental health struggles regarding the foundation

''yesterday'' (warning for violence and implied/reference suicide. kind of.) - :-( <- this is the only way i can express my emotions about this tale. anyway it's really good and an interesting way of showing clefs relationships with people

''an apple a day...'' - REALLY good look at how dr glass is as a person and how he acts with people + this entire tale fucks SEVERELY

''personal log of dr gears / personal log of █████ 'iceberg' ████'' - good example of how gears and iceberg both format their documents / how they speak + its vaguely gearsberg + this gives a look at how gears and iceberg met. read the gearsberg tale boy

''portraits of your father'' (warning for graphic alcoholism, suicide, survivors guilt, and blood/gore) - super good look at draven and his relationship with his father, and kondraki's alcoholism, and also talloran is there. also three cheers for dravoran

''life's cold'' - most normal day iceberg has at this fuckass foundation + this is a good look at how iceberg acts and thinks

''fond memories'' (warning for death and body horror) - draven proposes! Draven proposes.

''scp-3999'' (warning for bugs, paranoia, death, body horror, sexual assault/rape, unreality, self harm, and depictions of bodily mutilation) - unironically this one fucks me up so bad its so fucking good dude. go read about james talloran RIGHT NOW

''i stared into the face of everything and nothing and made it back alive'' - this one also fucks me up so bad like i dont even have anything to say. read about talloran and draven RIGHT NOW

''you are at the center of everything that happens to you'' - james talloran talks to himself. kind of.

''a suicide note'' (warning for mentions of rape, child murder, survivors guilt, and suicide) - interesting look at clefs thoughts on him and his work

''date night'' - objectum win! dr alto clef is objectoromantic AND objectosexual! <- that should tell you all you need to know about this one

''scp-4231 / montauk house'' (warnings for graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, child abuse/neglect, murder, domestic violence, verbal/physical abuse and survivor's guilt) - absolutely gut-wrenching look at alto clef/francis wojciechoski and why he's so fucked up. uh genuinely do read the warnings on this one because when i say graphic i am not exaggerating. all of these things are explored in detail and are genuinely triggering so.

''okay, that's enough, let's get you home'' (warnings for some dubious make-out sessions, (mentioned) suicide, implications of rape/sexual assault, and vomit) - shameless moldhouse plug sorry not sorry. HIGHLY recommend reading this and it's other parts in their entirety because it genuinely drives me up the fucking wall it is So good. i will sing moldhouses praises until my throat goes out. read moldhouse Now

''duke 'till dawn'' - bpd king!!!!! anyway i dont have a lot of thoughts on this its just really good. also i didnt know dracula was an actual scp until i read this which is kind of funny to me

''rights' birthday party'' - my house my rules you're going to read about agatha rights whether you like it or not

''sex at a frigid temperature'' - again, my house my rules. read the depressing gearsberg tale, boy.

''7 things that new level 3 researchers should know'' - i dont have any thoughts on this i just think this one has really cool formatting

''home is where i want to be'' - no greater thoughts this is just really neat i think. also kiryu labs is in it and im biased as fuck

''gentle wings flutter quietly in the dark'' - read about zyn kiryu NOW

[quirkle2]

[zombie au] the image is too big for tumblr i had to cut it in half GVEAUYGV (please for the love of god zoom in)

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

IDK if you've ever said anything about it, but in the Lights Out AU, what was Wally's first reaction on realizing that Frank was alive and he wasn't alone anymore? I imagine it was...quite emotional

i Haven't talked about their Initial Reunion yet, no! but yes, it was very emotional! there were certainly many emotions!

namely: fear, confusion, shock, and nearly killing your friend with an oversized baseball bat <3

[mueritos]

its my bday today so heres a new meet the artist :3

[skitskatdacat63]

2009 Singapore Grand Prix - Fernando Alonso

[jkpng]

happy pride month (25/30)

[ubejamjar]

FFXIV Vanilla Gpose | Six | Emote

"Moren said the book was..... Where, again?"

Location - Crystarium - Cabinet of Curiosity Time - 11 a.m. Color filter - Pastel 1 Frame - Simple 2 Emote - Lookout + Ponder

[neobastard]

finally got wand of the dark faerie!!

my coughing baby has now become an atomic bomb

[youngpettyqueen]

Julian's line of "I needed another womb for the baby, and the only two other people on board were Major Kira and me." is already very. That Man Is Trans. and listen yes you can interpret it as him saying Kira was the only choice, but then it's literally followed up by Sisko saying "I think you made the right choice, Doctor." which I know is supposed to be a joke but the implication IS there that there WAS a choice and basically Julian is trans

[wyrmswears]

REQUESTS???? AUGHA AUAGSHSBX X

UH UHHH LIBBER!!! MAYBE HER RAIJŪ FORM? (IS THAT HOW YOU SPELL IT?)

(if you are new here, this is the au)

you won me over with this one