#interesting article!

[aintnopartylikeaprideparty]

please be what i think it is please be what i think it is please be what i think it is please be what i think it is please be what i think it is ple

FUCK YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[crustycrow]

HETEROSEXUAL CIS-PEOPLE LOOK HERE

Snaps my fingers at you as you scroll past this post

Look at me. Listen.

I'm not the best at serious posts, but that article up there reminded me of how important it is that people like you stand up for us. So hold on while I try to get this out of my mushy end-of-work-day brain.

We could fight this fight ourselves for decades trying to reach the equal laws, gender affirming trans healthcare that doesn't have a 2-5+ soul-eating years of waiting time, medical care with equal knowledge of lgbtqia+ bodies, and, what is often forgotten, inclusion in the little everyday areas of life like our way of speaking or things being set up or designed with the existence of queer people in mind.

But you joining in could get us there so much faster.

The power you have as a hetero cis person is that you set the standard for what is seen as the average way of treating us among other hetero cis people. You have been given the power of deciding what's "normal" and I'm begging you to use it.

Richard Green is a great example of to what extent your actions can help our situation, and smaller ways of support still add up to a great impact on society, and could make the days of the queer people you interact with.

Educate yourself before you speak up, but don't be silent.

[miedei]

the bau come over to dinner at you and roommate!spencer's apartment and make some observations <3 (aka spencer is sososo used to receiving love from you and they can't wrap their heads around it)

drabbles mlist | roommate!spence fic

The BAU team knows Spencer Reid. They know him to be brilliant, sweet, and kind. They also know him to be excessively clumsy, like a puppy unaware of it's now-long limbs.

They see him flounder in the office, in various police departments. They see him knock over chairs, mugs, stacks of paperwork.

They see it so often, that this sight in front of them is truly alien.

Spencer is moving through the kitchen with practised ease. His hands move without his eyes following them, grabbing and organising little jars on the counter. And, of course, he weaves his way around you, as if his body was crafted to work alongside yours.

Emily and JJ sit on the well-worn sofa, each half-heartedly holding up a conversation as they stare unabashedly through the open kitchen door. Their eyes track him as he passes behind you to get to the sink, softly brushing his hand over your back to let you know that he's there. They watch him handle plump tomatoes with care, washing them under the water with deft fingers as he rambles to you.

It's a strange feeling, to watch him so comfortable. To have never seen him in such a state. The two of them love Spencer, and they know he loves them, but this is something they've never experienced with him. They lock eyes, exchanging small smiles as they settle in to watch further.

Hotch and Derek are arguably the members on the team who have worked the closest with Spencer. From the day Gideon recruited him for the team, they've worked case after case with the younger man. Although they are so close, they've never been able to spend much time at his home, usually opting to gather at Rossi's.

It's a shock to finally see inside his apartment, and see this.

The two stand on the balcony, leaning against the railing as they take in the room beyond the french doors. Spencer has now floated to the cabinets in the living room, calling out softly to you as he attempts to locate the dish you're looking for.

"Is it the flat one we got last weekend? The one with the Delft Blue artwork?"

"No, the one next to it! Same size, but different— Oh, that's it! Thanks, Spence."

They observe as you appear in the doorway, delighted smile spreading over your face as you're presented with said dish. You turn back into the kitchen after planting a peck to Spencer's cheek.

The two profilers watch intently, expecting a flush to creep up Spencer's face any second, but— nothing. He barely acts as if anything is out of sorts.

They look on incredulously as Spencer doesn't cease his chattering, now delving into the history of Delft Blue pottery as he wanders back into the kitchen after you.

The endearing sight of Spencer in his home clues them in. This is his element, here in this apartment, with you. The disconcerting actions don't deter them. Instead, they also wander into the kitchen, playing at getting refills as an excuse to glimpse more.

Penelope is seated across from Spencer, Rossi across from you. The small dining table is barely big enough to fit the eight of you, but no one seems to mind. The surface is overflowing with plates, a seemingly random mish-mash of dishes laid out in front of them.

A record is playing softly, a rendition of Hungarian Dance No.5 melding in with the conversations that float around the room.

Both David and Penelope were just in a heated debate about the taste of scotch (she insists it's disgusting, despite allowing him to refill her glass every time), but their attention has been snagged elsewhere, and neither seem to be in the mood to look away.

Across the table, two heads huddle in closely. Spencer is angled towards you, his hands coming out to grasp your cutlery, and repositioning them repeatedly around your plate.

"...and if you place your knife horizontally, then your fork with the tines pointing to the top of the plate and the base of the knife, that means you don't want to engage in the conversation. A Victorian noble would never say it out loud, so they signalled instead."

Spencer is leaning into you without a care in the world, his entire body focused solely on his demonstration. He bends at the neck, bringing his face closer to yours as he shifts the cutlery again.

Rossi can't help but elbow Penelope, gesturing to your face when she looks at him questioningly.

Your eyes flicker from the plate to Spencer's eyes, wholly captivated by his words and movements. The lack of space between the two of you doesn't seem to register, or you don't care about it. Instead, you're listening carefully, interjecting with soft questions as he cycles through multiple iterations of cutlery placement.

The two of them can't seem to tear their eyes away from the domestic little scene. You are comfortable, not bothered by anything as the pair of you reside in your little bubble.

Penelope can't help but grip Rossi's arm when you reach a hand to brush a lock of hair away from Spencer's eyes, but he doesn't miss a beat. The sight in front of them is evidently commonplace, unremarkable to either of you.

It's run of the mill, comfortable and intimate. But not for a pair of roommates. Something else.

[fictionadventurer]

Fantasy is philosophy’s more gorgeously painted cousin. You can’t just tell a child a blunt fact about the human heart and expect them to believe you. That’s not how it works. You can’t scribble on a Post-it note for a 12-year-old: your strangeness is worth keeping, or your love will matter. You need to show it. And fantasy, with its limitless scope, gives us a way of offering longhand proof for otherwise inarticulable ideas: endurance and hatred and regret, and power and passion and death.

-Katherine Rundell, "Why children's books?"

[polite--cat]

heart-wrenching & beautiful excerpts from the article on esteban ocon

[leafeyrune]

Like an Angel of Death

[assaultmystic]

From “Transgendered Archaeology: The Galli and the Catterick Transvestite”, Renato Pinto and Luciano C. G. Pinto in TRAC 2012. (read here)

[motherwench]

jeanette lee, a brooklyn-born pool player nicknamed the “black widow” for her tendency to wear all black outfits and “lure [her] opponents to the table and eat them alive.” some of my favorite photos of her :)

her vogue article here. sports illustrated article here.

photo creds: 1 - drew endicott via vogue. 2. 3. 4.

[notbecauseofvictories]

I've mentioned before that a really great short story does what a novel could never do, which is walk in to your house, rearrange your photographs so they’re slightly off-kilter, and then leave you with that quiet almost banal destabilization.

Well, I've never read Meg Ellison's The Pill before, but---

[the-sea-anemone]

occasionally i encounter posts about people using like. language learning apps and figuring out their reading level and it's like okay yeah that probably is easier than going on internet archive sorting by language picking an article and/or textbook that seems interesting and then pausing every two seconds to look up words but i've chosen the hard road and i'm sticking with it 👍

[raptorwithamarker]

Source:

[6-epigraphs]

This photo collection of Nico's championship celebrations is a gift that keeps on giving 😭

[hellsitegenetics]

https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-3999

String identified: SCP-3999 Object Class: Apollyon Special Containment Procedures: SCP-3999 cannot be contained stop be contained

String identified: Item #:

String identified: Researcher Talloran:

Closest match: Trametes ferrium Common name: Metal eating fungus.

Researcher Talloran is to be identified using the BLAST database modeled using AlphaFold kept in a standard terrarium suitable for moths.

Common name: finding tumblr's genome one post at a time.

String identified: The following file contains a virulent infohazard. Due to this, it is imperative that all personnel accessing this file be certified as having a Cognitive Resistance Value (CRV) of no less than 14.5. Should you fail an automated CRV verification, please remain calm and do not move. A member of your site's medical staff Researcher Talloran will be with you shortly.

Special Containment Procedures: Researcher Talloran is to have his genome aligned with its 12 closest genetic matches using MEGA. Navigate to the "table" section and select phylogenetic tree. Click "yes." Use sub-branches to note connections between each branch, such as families or kingdoms.

Item #: Cydia strobilella genome assembly, chromosome: Z Object Class: Spruce seed moth

(Researcher Talloran must link the image source.) This can be the only conclusive fact.

So stop asking.

[blackwaves]

reading into irl ichiyo higuchi and dwelling on the statement that ichiyo was bound by the structure of acceptable writing for female writers at the time — having to recreate a performance of feminity which contradicted and moved around the actual way women spoke, & which notably did not come naturally to her — but managed to make it her own + express assertiveness within it nonetheless.

anyway this is all just to say that i'm so fond of the bsd higuchi-centric chapter which says she's not naturally suited the port mafia, but that she stays and tries anyway. the way she gains respect via throwing herself into a fight she expects to lose from the motivation of her love/loyalty for akutagawa. thinking primarily of ch.77 where tachihara's suitability to the mafia is defined in his recklessness, passion, and bravery— there is something to me there about how she makes those traits her own.

[aspiringwarriorlibrarian]

Tumblr users reinvent the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis by claiming that TikTok users do not truly understand what death is: Post 324

[jeynearrynofthevale]

This is such an interesting little detail in an article from 2017. Like, the vibe of these objects being left as offerings outside his door to be signed (blessed) and returned to those who want them. There’s a magical realism fic in here somewhere. Being this kind of benevolent deity (of hockey) living among the humans.