When Internet People Are Like “i Love Gothic Literature But I Hate Anything That Discusses Incest,

I’m sorry if no one’s explained this to you before but a content creator telling you that their work isn’t for minors and it’s not their responsibility to jump through hoops to keep it from you is an adult looking out for kids. they’re modeling good boundaries and setting the expectation that you’ll engage with the online community like a person and take responsibility for your choices. if you cannot understand that you need to look out for yourself and take people seriously when they say their work isn’t suitable for young audiences then you are not ready to be unsupervised on the internet.

I bring a sort of "it's wrong to hate people based on how or where they were born" vibe to political discourse that apparently right wingers and left wingers both don't really like

ocean vuong on writing metaphors

girls when they remember that sam winchester was groomed in one way or another by just about everyone in his life whether they were even aware if it or not with the end goal of him giving up his autonomy to bring about the end of the world . girls when sam winchester has both been blatantly sexually assaulted but also metaphorically assaulted and his whole storyline is about feeling impure and feeling like his body, like his life, isnt his . girls when sam winchester never asked for any of it . girls when sam winchester partakes in unhealthy coping mechanisms to try to twist the impurity in him into something good . girls when sam winchester is still full of love and kindness despite his trauma, despite his rage . girls when sam

it took the internet exactly 2.3 seconds to fully erase the Jew and Romani hatred from modern day Nazi ideology and make it about hating liberals and queer people and honestly anyone who is engaging in that kind of revisionist bullshit can fuck right off and unfollow me.

The Nazis told people that disability and homosexuality were products of Jewish people existing and part of our plan to undermine their little Aryan nation and once they got rid of all the Jews, gays and disabled people would be no more. LGBTQ people were never the primary target, and Jews were blamed for all of it regardless. You cannot separate Nazism from Jew hatred and pretending otherwise is disgusting.

from @.__callmejo__ (he/they/them) on Instagram.

“father, forgive me my drunk inheritance: forgive the stairs that collapsed beneath the weight of me: forgive the third floor window that tried to swallow me into the night’s mouth: forgive the bodies i swallowed like broken teeth: the knees i spent trying to summon god in my own mouth: forgive my DNA strands for they are sculptors of brief suicides in this body: i’m trying to love the shattered window of myself: the hands: the rocks:”

— Tonight’s Cantab feature is local poet and scientist George Abraham! Come get a copy of their just-released chapbook The Specimen’s Apology (Sibling Rivalry Press). This is from their poem “apology,” as published in Tin House.

it's insane seeing ppl saying that moffat is only good at writing when he's not the show runner, and then only using 11's era as an example....did we all collectively forget series 8-10?

believe me, there's much to criticize with moffat's writing--im not saying there isn't. the man has high highs and low lows. but ignoring the 12th doctor's era in these conversations makes me so sad considering how it's got some of the best episodes of new who.

i think it's also worth considering that moffat being on multiple projects at once probably had a bigger impact on series 5-7 than people think.

הבל | hevel

This is how it goes: God whispers in Cain’s jealous ear, drawing his attention to the Sin crouched at his doorway. Sin has haunted eyes and a mouth that has been kissed. Let there be no doubt that Sin has been kissed, with a wet-red mouth that may taste of blood or pomegranate or the electric crackle of a stoplight. Cain looks at Sin. He runs his tongue over his teeth.

This is how it goes: Cain leaves the house at one am in bare feet and a hoodie, careful to avoid the last stair that creaks, and treks out into the Field. There are many fields in the world but there is only one Field. Cain feels the difference in the grass when he crosses the border from field to Field, the way the grey-green blades stand up at attention in his wake, the way the dirt turns ice-cold and furious beneath his heels. The earth is good with foreshadowing. The tree of Knowledge has deep roots.

This is how it goes: God says, I will take you or your brother.

God says, You get to choose.

And Cain says, “When you split me and my brother in the womb, you did not divide us evenly. He got kindness, and I got longing. He got complacence, and I got ambition. I want to kill him sometimes. I think sometimes he wants to die.”

I have never made brothers before, God explains. That is how I thought they were made. What more do you want?

“I want to steal some of his kindness,” Cain says, and shakes his pocket knife out of his sleeve.

Back at home, Abel sits up in his bed with a start, heart racing. That was close, he thinks, that was a damn close one, and does not know why.

In the Field, the ground warms as blood seeps into the dirt. 

electra, sophocles (trans. anne carson) // enough, suzanne buffman // letter to my rage: an evolution, lidia yuknavitch // the ghost is dead, long live the ghost, mara avoth // the importance of being earnest, oscar wilde // i didn’t always salivate over skeletons, blythe baird // persephone the wanderer (ii), louise glück // sharp objects, gillian flynn // the carnivorous lamb, agustín gómez-arcos (trans. william rodarmor) // how to wear your mother’s lipstick, warsan shire.