concerned with gentler things @serving-goffman - Tumblr Blog

I killed two angels this week. My brothers.

SUPERNATURAL 5.02 — Good God, Y'all

would never disrespect our rpf warriors but people imagining rocky as a human for purposes of shipping is like oh so you think you’re above fucking a rock? you’re afraid? to fuck a rock? you’re scared to imagine ryan gosling fucking a rock huh. pathetic.

superhell

i just don't think 16 minutes is going to cover it

wickedthing

There is a common conviction among mathematicians that however far you go, there will always be another two, even if no one can say where exactly, until they are discovered.

(The Solitude of Prime Numbers by Paolo Giordano)

starryhoundbloo

Shout out to my mom who explains my transition as "Having a daughterpillar turn into a Boyterfly". It doesn't erase the fact I was an adorable little girl, and also affirms my gender now. I love my mother.

gingerpolyglot

Give me Shane awkwardly trying "queer culture" things that Ilya and Harris try to introduce him to and hating it.

Give me Shane "hates clubbing and bars" Hollander not minding Kingfisher in the afternoon but refusing to go at night. Give me Shane never understanding the slang (he's never online) and being overstimulated by drag brunch (it's so LOUD and nothing fits his diet even once he loosens it a little and brunch as a concept throws off his entire routine) and utterly bored by any TV show that isn't the latest game replay (is this reality TV? Is it a drama? He can't remember and he can't tell the difference but honestly he'd rather be watching hockey) and unable to remember the difference between Lady Gaga and Cher (he never listens to music anyway) and completely disinterested in changing his wardrobe (for fancy events he wears whatever his stylist tells him to but not anything adventurous, because he just wants to look acceptable not make a statement).

Give me Shane feeling alienated from gay culture the way he sometimes feels alienated from Japanese culture and being so frustrated that being himself, exactly as he is, still isn't good enough for anyone.

Give me a Shane Hollander who doesn't want to be "the gay hockey player" the same way he doesn't want to be "the Asian hockey player" but he'll suck it up because he's such an inspiration, don't you know how many kids look up to you? Don't you know how much it matters to them to see you out there loud and proud?

Give me Shane finally snapping at Ilya that clearly he's not "super gay" if he's so bad at it, because he's sick and tired of everyone being disappointed that he's not up on whatever the latest queer culture trend is and he does not want to be a "gay icon," he just wants to play hockey and love his husband, and he's not magically a different person now that everyone knows he's gay.

Give me Ilya reckoning with how coming out has only put more expectations on Shane's shoulders and noticing the roles Shane is always forced into - the Asian player, the gay player - and understanding a bit more why privacy seemed like a better guarantee of freedom to Shane than openness.

Give me Ilya promising Shane that he loves him exactly as he is, jocky and offline and dedicated to hockey, that he never has to change anything about himself to seem more palatable to anyone, and fuck anyone who thinks Shane isn't *anything* enough, because he's always been perfect for Ilya.

cinematicvests

watching fandom lore get built but you’re not really sure how it happened:

wells-hannah

SLEEPING WITH OTHER PEOPLE (2015) dir. Leslye Headland

violet-bridgerton

ultimate shipper challenge: [4/10] declarations of love

Elanie! Elaine! Elaine! I love you! I love you! Jake, I love you!

feral-ballad

Kim Addonizio, from Lucifer at the Starlite: Poems; “You with the crack running through you”

[Text ID: “I wanted to put / my mouth on you / and draw out whatever toxin… / —but I understand. There are limits to love.”]

nathanielorion

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.