#read my long text boy

[cextra-loz]

Went outside to cover the squash. I briefly looked over to the neighbor's yard cause I saw something moving in my peripheral, and I in my horror, saw his wife in a bikini just gardening or tanning, I have no clue.

Anyway, i'm heading over rn and knocking on his door to apologize, i'm gonna bow and kiss his feet and beg for forgiveness and cry and ball until I pass out on his threshold because his wife was tanning, and I accidentally saw. Mb In other news I usually only stay like 5-15 minutes outside usually once a day but i've been doing it almost every day for a few weeks now and I have a visible tan line. My feet are marked like where I wear my sandals its so funny. Its barely visible but its a tan, and I haven't had a tan in like 5 years this is amazing! In other other news, i've been lifting a 5lb dumbbell for a few months and i'm seeing visible gains and i'm not even jokn. I don't lift, i've never lifted, but i'm getting stronger and my arms have been feeling bulkier (with little to no visible change) but I can literally feel it, its like my muscles are swolier, swollen, pumped idk?

For a while I thought I wouldn't be able to make progressive gains because of how ill my body is, but I guess my nervous and muscular system is still good enough to adapt and repair itself as long as I don't over do it.

I am at my peak age like physically, so i'm going to take this new understanding of my body to get back in shape somehow. I can't technically work out like how I did in college because of my weak ass heart and nervous system, but if I stay consistent for weeks or months at a time, I should see small but progressive gains. I just have no idea up until what point will my body adapt but extra strength and endurance surely helps. I've been hearing and reading online about the stories of the human body and how amazing it is. Like the body's ability to withstand incredible amounts of heat or cold or go hungry or repair itself or deal with illness, for short periods of time. I mean my body can't do any of those things but knowing those stories gives me the courage to push myself just a little more because I know my body can probably just take a little bit more. Safely of course but still it's just something I've been thinking about recently.

Now I just have to somehow work on lower body. It's a little difficult because I can't stand for that long, and when I do stand and walk around to get food or water I do not want to be tired or shaking, but i'll figure something out.

If I get buff in the next 12 months i'll let y'all know.

I have to figure out how to do more cardio. I've been trying to keep my heart rate up for more than a minute at a time but I just get so so tired and I never want to do it more than twice because i'll just be out of it for the rest of the day I just can't yet i'm still too like weak- but I think if I do the same thing with my heart as i'm doing with the 5lb dumbbells I should see cardio improvement over time. I'm really excited to work out my heart! Just like, a little bit at a time. That part of me probably just heals with time ig idk.

#I got scared it was embarrassing #I just wanted to water the squash before it wilted #we just planted it #the day after we planted it i'm not kidding it like wilted so much it was like melted and crisped up I thought we fucking killed it #but thankfully we gave it so much fucking water and the next morning it was normal again lmfao #anyway just wanted to cover it with some shade and water it #i should upload photos of my plants they're my pride and joy the carrot tops I just planted are looking good and maybe y'all can give me ti #tips #the yard is fucking dying #ive been giving it way too much water and the yard is dying #we have weed spots growing out and the grass IS DYING #gonna water less??? and pray the grass survives the temporary drought i'm putting them in #read my long text boy

[dallonwrites]

LOVER BOY - WIP INTRO

[ lover boy by @dallonwrites / sfgate / tumblr user catilinas / lover boy | little weirds by jenny slate / lover boy / hellraiser (1987) / manhunter (1986) / the lost boys (1987) / lover boy ] this post has alt text.

disclaimer: this is my own original work

Genre: Literary that wishes it were horror Setting: San Francisco, 1987/88 Aesthetics: fake blood, uncanny SFX in old horror movies, grainy home videos, a deeply orange sunset, retro arcade games, an empty mall, overripe fruit, anatomical heart models, heart shaped candles, leather jackets, rolling fog, the moon in the ocean, bowling alleys, red lights, trying to see a ghost in the hallway, real blood, mixtapes from former lovers, nightclub bathrooms, vampire fangs, neck kisses Summary: Sometimes, to cope with change and unpredictability, Beau likes to pretend he's the protagonist of a blood-soaked horror movie. And all he's ever wanted is a lover. But after the death of his childhood best friend he retreats into himself - frustrated at love and frustrated that Bobby hasn't haunted him the way he promised to - until he's jolted back by former friends needing his help with a movie project, an ex lover returning as new ones find new ways to hurt him, his friends and his community getting sicker, and a near death experience that comes with the urgency to record everything around him whilst he still can. The more that happens, the more he tries to find ghosts around him. The more times he sees blood on his hands, the more painful his old coping mechanism becomes, as his thoughts become less and less tasty.

what if you were autistic but you didn't know it because it's the 1980s and your special interest is horror movies and sometimes your brain feels a little bit blood-soaked but it's okay because it feels good! it makes you feel better, right? but then your best friend dies and also you lose the closest person you had to a lover and you wonder if you've wasted your time obsessing over romance but you don't have time to think about it because life keeps happening and nobody seems to care that your community is dying and no matter how hard you try you never see a ghost in the hallway or the bathroom mirror like you want to, and then your lover comes back but he's different, and so are you, and you really want to stop looking death in the eye, so you try to capture everything around you on your video camera to show that you were here, we were here and we're alive, and your queerness is your heartbeat and all you want to do in this life is love, so that's what you do, despite everything, whatever that love looks like, even when everything gets louder and brighter and too much to bare and you're starting to get scared by the blood in your thoughts

I call this "the culmination of my growing obsession with horror and the undergrad dissertation I wrote on how the AIDS crisis functions in queer narratives". I think it's my favourite thing I've started in a long time! There's so much flesh to this story that I haven't even dug my hand as deep into it as I could go. It's fun, it's silly, it's raw, it's sweet, it's emotional, it's complicated, it's a bit bloody, it's theatrical, it's trying it's best. It doesn't take itself too seriously but it's also crying in the bathtub you know

Characters (just a few otherwise this would get way too long)

Beau (he/him) the bestest boy in the whole world. Someone pleeeease take him to a farmers market on a chilled Sunday afternoon

Benji (he/him) Beau's little brother who Beau thinks is the bestest boy in the whole world. Even though he loves bugs and dirt and wants to be a shark when he grows up

Bobby (he/him) dead but before he died he thought being a ghost would be so fun. It'd be so much easier to sneak up on Beau! He could finally go to Fire Island! He loved handmaking jewellery and wanted to be a volcanologist.

Felix (he/him) the ex lover! He's doing sooo much better since the last time you saw him! Hey why is he crying in that movie theatre bathroom

Tiff (she/they) Beau's old friend and roommate. Tattoo artist who collects eye shaped decor and broken rotary phones. Lesbian/gay solidarity is the backbone of this novel.

Dorothy (she/her) In love with the moon and acrylic paints. What if you bumped into your ex boyfriends twin sister and feel like you shouldn't get involved but then you remember she's realllyyy fun to talk shit about people with?

#who peeped the hannibal/red dragon reference at the end of the summary LOL #wip intro #lover boy #long post #ALSO i will be reblogging a version of this with text image descriptions later today #THIS IS SOOO MUCH DIFFERENT TO WHEN I INTRODUCED THIS PROJECT LAST YEAR LOLLL #i deleted that post but remember when this was the Beaulix novel? now it's just Beau! #this is by far the most fun take on grief ive done in my writing about grief to cope with my own era #i read this wip intro and i remember 2020 when i created beau and he was just meant to be a guy that liked surfing and gave felix weed #and look where we are now

[drawthething]

Gene's fear of being alone probably peaks after watching horror movies. Like silence'd intimidate him so much he'd turn the TV on maximum volume while banging on a frying pan playing his keyboard like a nut. Or he'd call Bob & Linda being like: "Mom, I don't know if you're having your 15th mini croissant or not but I'm half way through The Exorcist right now and Ken's not picking up my call I THINK YOU SHOULD COME HOME- "

#baby boy #i always feel like posting my thought one at a time gets people to read it more instead of a long ass post of hc ramblings #like my yesterday headcanon ask post? compared to my short but equally nonsensical text posts? i've figured out the rule #i shouldn't care but you know when you post things it's cuz you want people to know about the weird stuff going on in your head #anyway here's a gene headcanon cuz i didn't have a fun one for him on my last post 🥺 #bobs burgers #bob's burgers

[beyond-the-night]

Yanagi Akane appreciation post from Horimiya - piece - Ep. 8

#he is sooooooo cuteeeeeee #absolutely adorable #and sooo pretty #yanagi akane #horimiya #horimiya - piece - #horimiya: the missing pieces #akane yanagi #my screenshot #mine #I had to crop these one by one too because they were also all affected by the wrong sizing hhhhh #I've been reading horimiya as well as watching it I love it so much #miyamura is absolutely my favorite #this sweet boy is probably second #precious cinnamon roll #I hope the gradient color text shows up on mobile now too #I spent way too long making these #hori san to miyamura kun #hori-san to miyamura-kun #are dashes not a thing on tumblr? hm #ホリミヤ #please reblog! these may just be screenshots but these posts took me hours to make. #if you don't reblog you can't share them with others who may also enjoy #and as many posts on this site have stated reblogs are what keep this site going.

[cyberdragoninfinity]

I'm gonna apologise in advance for how dark this is, but looking at your recent Placidodumping from the tag force games... i feel like he's geniunely suicidal, and even if not exactly suicidal then he has no concept of self-worth.

Like, he's way too happy to die. Being willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of the future is dark enough. But the fact that he's saying he will be able to rest? That he's expecting you to be happy to die too? Yeah, that's the darkest part.

Placido's literally come from hell, but he's not even trying to save himself. He's not just acceptant of his fate, he's welcoming it, and it makes me wonder just how much he's been through. His despair, is it entirely from the memories he's been created from? Or is it from something else? *coughcoughashittyoldmancoughcough* Thinking of the Jakob part in tag force, how he straight up killed Placido and Lester, how he spoke about them, I feel like it wouldn't be too far fetched to assume he's said these things to Placido's face (and let's not forget how Zone spoke to Placido-and only Placido- in duel links)

Perhaps Placido's real despair wasn't the inherited trauma from Aporia.

Maybe it was the way he was treated by the only people around him. One of his duel links lines is "it's so sad when you have no one to love" and yet the other Iliaster members are right there, as family. And yet, he didn't get love from them.

Maybe he could have been saved if someone did love him. Maybe then he would have had something to live for.

(Apologies for the mini essay in here it was supposed to be a few sentences and then suddenly I've written an essay)

OH YEAH NO FOR SURE we are definitely WELL past the point of Primoplacido Yugioh 5D's having a true sense of self-worth in any emotional or psychologically 'human' way, but I think when analyzing that (and his behavior that could definitely be labeled some form of suicidal) it's important to approach it less from a "oh what [abuse/traumatic event/negative feedback] has he personally been through to cause this" and more from a "what are the circumstances of Primo's creation and how does that effect him." The former is still an important element of course, but it's a bit of a disservice to his character to attempt to 100% separate him from Aporia when dissecting what's going on with him; one really can't exist without the other! (i.e. Primo was only brought into being via Aporia's memories and suffering, and Aporia as we see him in-show only can be brought into being when the emperors fuse....the cyclical infinite nature of these characters runs very very deep hehehe)

imo it's not an either/or situation with Primo's despair--I think his completely fucked sense of self worth stems from the trauma he's inherited by being a piece of Aporia AND the bullshit he deals with from his peers currently AND, also, the inescapable fact that Primo was Created To Act Under a Specific Set of Parameters. more after the cut, lots of analyzing this miserable Swordbot9000, apologies for the Epic of Gilgacidomesh

Primo is not human. IM NOT SAYING THAT TO BE MEAN TO HIM OR ANYTHING he's just Literally Not a Flesh and Blood Human Being; he's a machine created from a dead man's memories and emotions by Just Some Guy who thinks he's god, and due to this Primo has deemed himself Above humankind--better than them, more capable than them. Sometime I need to go off more on my Emperors analysis discussing the fact that theyre basically Mechanical Angels, BUT FOR NOW I think a very core trait of Primo's is the fact he doesn't see himself as human, and he takes great pride in that. He's less come from hell himself, I'd say, and more or less come forth from Someone Else's Hell and Now He Has to Live With That. And also he is completely, almost desperately devoted to his God. If anything, he sees himself as a tool blessed by god Himself, with a great power he will use to enact justice upon this wretched timeline.

He sees saving the future as a very important task he needs to complete (and he DESPERATELY wants to be the one to complete it himself, more on that in a moment,) and I think that in part is why he's so excited about "finally being able to rest" and welcoming his fate--it means that he has completed what he was made to accomplish, the way a computer would complete a process, and why would he ever want to "save" himself from savoring that experience? (reminds me of how in TF6 lester is like "why would I want to run away?" re: trying to escape the Ark Cradle crashing into the city--it's not just a Primo thing, this sort of lack of self preservation!) (Also considering primo's track record of failed plans, no wonder he would be Especially obsessed with completing the Circuit and getting the cream of the crop "glorious honor" of dying in Z-one's name in God's Very Citadel and preventing the catastrophic future. That IS his will to live; he doesn't know how to have another one 😬) Dying in the process of the Ark Cradle crashing onto New Domino isn't seen as a 'sacrifice' for these guys I don't think; it's seen as an inevitable conclusion to what they were brought into existence for.

(Also, while we never really get complete confirmation on this, I do think Z-one also Definitely programmed the Emperors to worship him, to act with such dedication to the cause, to work ceaselessly towards their goals despite years (centuries?) of failures, and not stop, not give up. And I think that, alongside the fact they're effectively gijinkas of the most traumatic moments of Aporia's life, robots built from misery, quite literally Embodiments of Despair, that's not just flavor text. It's what powers them. And it explains a Lot of why they act the way they do, especially with regards to something like Primo's 'suicidal' behavior. In fact, I don't even think they would see this way of thinking as "suicidal," even, since that implies being alive in the first place, and the emperors…um. don't see themselves as 'alive!!!' :,) kind of fucked up to think about!!!!!)

OK SORRY FOR THAT TANGENT IT'S JUST SOMETHING I THINK A LOT ABOUT WITH THESE GUYS the inherent discussion of humanity when it comes to a robot. anyway, re: the way Primo's peers treat him, yeah i don't think that's helping much !!! Primo seeks approval like he'll die without it, he's an android copy of how much it Sucks To Be 19; like I said above, he desperately wants to be the one to complete the Circuit, to save the future, in the dub he basically states he wants to be God's Favorite, so course that brings him into conflict with Jakob (the implied actual Favorite,) of course Z-one apparently REPEATEDLY not giving a shit about him is doing damage to his psyche.

He gets clowned on and demeaned by effectively all of his coworkers (including and especially these other pieces of himself) (good GOD), no one even seems to LIKE HIM. LIKE. AT ALL, of course he wants to feel important to someone!! he probably (definitely) thinks if he can complete the Circuit he'll win favor with God, get the respect and attention he craves. I've talked before about how I feel like Z-one condemned his dead friends to the same loneliness he's become cursed with, and you REALLY see that with the Emperors and Primo especially. Aporia got split into threes and all three of 'em somehow ended up even lonelier than they would have been as one body--Primo is SUCH A MISERABLY LONELY GUY. HE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO INTERACT WITH PEOPLE LIKE A NORMAL PERSON BECAUSE HE WASNT PROGRAMMED TO BE A NORMAL PERSON.

sure yeah his chronically unpleasant to be around attitude doesn't help, but in the Tag Force games you see these repeated little moments where you can tell he enjoys your company, he's Excited to spend time with you. I get the impression half of him thinking you should be happy to die too is just that he's so excited to share what he considers the ultimate culmination of what he was created to do with you (if TF5 is considered 'canon' in TF6 he might even be under the idea youre also an android--but that's a kettle of fish for a different time, primo's TF5 route is also insane). This isn't suicide to him! This is saving potentially billions of people! This is something really important to him, and he wants to share it with you!! Our hard work will pay off and we can rest!! This is the highest holy honor you can have!!!!! Aren't you excited???

I just wouldn't say his continued agonies are Solely hinged on what's happening to him currently, nor are they what are driving him to this supposed lack of something to live for (again, since ridding the world of Momentum IS his something to live and persevere for, since that's what he was made to do.) I'd argue they're definitely external factors exasperating an internal problem built into his very code, though, and it just makes Primo's situation all the more harrowing to think about. He has got so much shit going on with him and none of it is good. "I feed off my own despair" OK COOL BUT THAT'S NOT A GOOD THING, DUDE. BEING A MACHINE POWERED BY YOUR OWN MISERY AND ANGER IS NOT SOMETHING TO BE PROUD OF. He was literally Built to Harbor Someone Else's Agony. If you keep dropping straws on a camel who was born with a back already covered in 'em, of course it's only gonna get worse, regardless of how much the camel thinks suffering makes him stronger and above humanity!!!

I do agree, though, that things maybe would have gone so much differently if someone outwardly, properly expressed love and affection to this poor guy. If someone told him he mattered in a way beyond his programming and divine mission. That taunt in Duel Links, the way he actually says it, it comes off as almost this snarling scornful jeer, but he looks so sopping wet sad saying it.

He is the embodiment of "losing those who you love" and you have to wonder how that manifests with him, despite the fact that, like... he doesn't Know Eurea. he didnt even know she existed until Z-one put him back together and told him the truth of what he is. I wonder if Primo feels the itch to inflict that same pain of losing your closest love on other people (a trait Aporia also Very Much Has.) Or if he's written himself off as unlovable entirely (😢)... or if 'disgusting humans' are just beneath his sky high standards. And, yeah, you really do have to wonder why he doesn't class the rest of Iliaster as someone to love, why he gets along so poorly with the other Emperors in the first place. Did Z-one also program them to not fucking get along with each other??? Was this also some 6D chess bullshit to actually hinder their progress even more??? Is this indicative of just how bad Aporia's mental state was/is????? CAN WE KNOW!!!

this is all just theorizing and guesswork at the end of the day, but it's a lot to think about, and i love ruminating on it. I personally think Primo's fixation on having no one to love stems from a combination of things, and the fact some of it is coming from these vague feelings of agony baked into him from when Aporia lost Eurea is, like, GOD. MAN. I also think at least a little of it may be just that Primo thinks he doesnt 'deserve' anyone to love properly, and also that the Emperors are so divorced from humanity in their eyes that to "love" one another, or to see each other as 'family', is absurd and a waste of time (though if they actually fully believe that, who knows--it definitely seems like Primo cares quite a bit about Lester. wahhh ;;; ) Like. They're literally this post. In the Tag Force games Primo always acts kind of jumpy and almost shy when youre nice to him??!? HE DOESNT KNOW THAT ONE. AND IT'S SO SAD.

WOW. OK. THIS GOT AWAY FROM ME A BIT. APOLOGIES!! tl;dr: yeah Primo's sense of self-worth is complete dogshit, the ghost of Aporia's suffering over a woman Primo has never met or known haunts his circuitboards in a way that can't be ignored, and that plus the fact he gets treated with disdain by his closest cohorts (which may be due to their God's 'divine' decisions) are definitely exasperating his issues and behavior. BUT, that being said, that's actually probably the least of why he's shown to be so excited to die, and the actual reasons that seem to be at play are a lot more horrifying! :D Primo largely sees himself as a means to end rather than as a person (he is a beautiful machine, a half motorcycle agent of justice and punishment, and far mightier and above miserable humans like Yusei Fudo,) and THAT'S largely because he was programmed by his creator to see himself that way. He is a computer built to complete a task and shut itself down. He was made to serve his God at the request of His long dead best friend for the good of a future he isn't meant to actually see.

i dont really have a conclusion, but I think a lot about this post with regards to the Three Pure Nobles.

Maybe Primo could have grown beyond his programming, if he'd been exposed more properly to love and kindness. and i hope you want more for him too. im going to bed and going to think about this until i fall asleep. ok bye

#thank you for reading this ended up VERY long but. it has pictures :3 dfhghfg MINIESSAY FOR A MINIESSAY.... #I JUST HAVE. A LOT TO SAY ABOUT PRIMO AND ABOUT THE EMPERORS. WAUGH. #though next time maybe makin a text post and @'ing me would be easier for this sorta thing 🤔 #this bad boy made tumblr crash when i tried to open my askbox on mobile HHDFGHDSF #asks #ygo posting #angel-of-sweet-revenge #placido #iliasterliker9000 #yugioh 5ds #long post / #THE SUN IS. COMING UP. I AM GOING TO BED FOR REAL

[rosicheeks]

truth be told I'm hesitant to message you because I don't want to run the risk of hurting you again - F

Broskiiiiiii why did you use my real naaaaaaaame

#that’s the only thing that’s driving me crazy tbh #unless my memory is fucked I think only 4 people know my real name on here #and like I said I seriously doubt the the F person I’m thinking about would check in on me #I’m trying to think if I accidentally said my name to anyone else now lol #I think the thing I’m nervous about when someone from my past reaches out #I know I’m going to ask them about themselves cause that’s just me #and I swear if they start to tell me about how perfect and good their life is #how they got married and have a kid now #or how they are in a long loving relationship #I will go fucking insane I swear to you #idk if I already said this but someone else from my past reached out lately #we will call him B and I had a crush on B back in my high school church days #so AGES ago #and it’s driving me crazy cause I wanna know why they randomly texted me #but I also know they got married awhile ago and I’m sure they have a kid #and I really don’t want to fucking hear that so I’ve just ignored his texts lol #don’t get me wrong I’m so happy for anyone who has their life together and is happy and loved #but I’m not right now….. pretty much the opposite lol #last time I hung out with some friends from high school they kept telling me about how well everyone that we knew is doing now #and boy oh BOY I spiraled #so I don’t want that #if you genuinely just want to be my friend? I’m looking for more so who knows reach out #I’m a cry baby and I get hurt pretty easily #so unless you really REALLY fucked up I doubt I don’t want to talk to you #not saying I’ll for sure reply cause I’ve been awful at replying lately #but like I said before the only person on here that I truly don’t want to talk to again I’m pretty sure I have blocked #anywayyy I just woke up and I’m going to try and get out of bed #also I thought my selfie wasn’t rebloggable so when I woke up I had a little panic attack and deleted it lmao #hope you and everyone else reading this is having a lovely day/night 🥰🩷 #ask

[lazaruspiss]

girl help hes not wearing protection!!!

#pyg is so #like hes genuinely one of THE most scary villains imo #goofy yes! but absolutely terrifying #he shows up in arkham knight and despite how easy the fight is he is still just so damn scary #like his profile and tapes..... eugh #i love it but i think i should like. mentally prepare for reading d&d's batman and robin run bc he scares me so bad #nightmare fuel man #makes my blood run cold just thinking about him #is it the body horror? the implications of abuse/rape/necrophilia? oh his fluff text and easter eggs in ak are so graphic #i think i might be a little in love with him #he makes me wanna peel my skin off hes so creepy #fictional characters who remind me just how intense a fawn response i have at times #i looked at his surviving victims for a while after beating his ak fight. just thinking. #my horror guy ever #he'd tear me apart and i worry i'd like it #hoo boy. gotta start remembering to brace myself whenever i think i might start thinking about him for too long.

[gay-yosuke]

ive been tryinb to pinpoint exactly why i havent been writing as much recently and i might have an answer at last, but im not sure if its right or not. writing started as like, a kind of escape/way for me to process stuff, or get emotions out that i just wasnt able to put down any other way. i enjoyed creating shit cuz it meant it wasnt all stagnating in my head. but i guess now im not in a position where im very... in need of it. its been over 7 years since i started writing and i was in the middle of secondary school and my life blew ass. then i kept writing through college cuz it kept me cool. and then those 6 months of uni. and the year of figuring out what to do (no success there). and then my job. and now. im unemployable, being paid money by the dole cuz i cant work. and my chronic pain im just kind of handling i guess, and i have other stuff to work on (modding, and ive been hanging out with friends more), and i have a possibly negative coping mechanism which most know about but. well . but the point really is that im not... needing to write. im now writing for my own sort of enjoyment and its different. i write slower. i pick more holes in it. im not saying i WANT something to throw my whole world upside down to bring back my writing but. i feel it stagnating in me. i keep trying to finish wips and getting nowhere . i need something to push me in the right direction again . maybe i just need to read more.

#wow thats long #uh. anyway. sorry! yknow how it is. 3am and whatnot . #i just want that rush again. i want the words to come out of me like they should #but they wont. they get stuck between my teeth and i cant brush them out. #my brain moves on but my fingers wont even twitch. #its a lot. its a lot a lot. #is this a vent? a negative post? iunno. read my wall of text boy.

[bylertruther]

Byler fanfiction.... Mike or Will?

Which one is the vampire?

Which one is the werewolf?

Which one is royalty?

Which one works at the coffee shop?

Which one is the florist and which one is the tattoo artist?

Which one is the tutor?

Which one offers to teach the other how to kiss?

Which one gets too drunk at the party?

Which one doesn't want to play Spin the Bottle?

OMG I LOVE THIS. I HAVE MANY, MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS.

Which one is the vampire?

mike looks like a vampire, but i'm a vampire!will truther forever and ever. he deserves at least one life where he’s allowed to feast.

consider: vampirism as a metaphor for homosexuality (as all monsterhood and "otherness" can be). they're both hungry, shackled by a shared undying thirst: for blood, for connection, for love. vampirism as a metaphor, because you can try to kill me, but i will live on anyway; because you can cast me to the shadows, but still i will build a life for myself there; because all of your fearmongering stories tell you to be afraid of me, but you cannot help but be captivated, intrigued, and envious of my defiance of your order. vampirism as a metaphor, because all i do is want and that want is forbidden.

will knows this, has never had the pleasure of not knowing this: he was damned from the start and later turned against his will. mike is human, warm, brave, and utterly, pathetically transfixed by him. it matters not that his blood runs hot and his heart thunders on—he feels that same ache, that same hollowing-out hunger that eats at him from the inside out. it's a story about restraint and want and shame and indulgence; about love, everlasting and true, a flame that cannot be snuffed out; about a life to be found only in death that is no true death.

vibes for vampire!will and (currently) human!mike: “you will always be fond of me. i represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.” + "monsters come in all shapes and sizes. […] sometimes monsters are things people should be scared of, but they aren't." + "it's easy to be yourself in the dark." + "what you don't understand," she said to me once when i told her how dangerous it was, "is that i am the thing in the dark." + "i need you to be a monster, which is to say, i am trying not to love you, which is to say, i am still dreaming of kissing your claws."

Which one is the werewolf?

mike! he's the moon to will's sun after all. consider: lycanthropy as a metaphor for internalized homophobia. it's something that roils inside him and bubbles over when provoked. something that he carries within him like a second skin, hidden away. he fears intimacy because he’s never experienced it. he fears getting close because he doesn't want to hurt anyone or get hurt himself. he turns under the moon in the dead of night, because it's only in the darkness that he can be who he really is. he doesn't want anyone to see him for what he is. he doesn't want to be a monster, but he is, isn't he? that's what everyone says: that werewolves are unclean and unnatural. no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries—and, god, does he try—he will always be this.

when he turns, he's big and black with surprisingly soft fur and the same deep, dark eyes he's always had. will is the first person he willingly shows. he runs his hand down mike's side, combing his fingers through his fur with unbridled wonder in his eyes. he caresses his large cheek, smooths the space between his eyes that human mike is always furrowing, and can't help himself from petting his twitching ears, too. no one has ever touched mike like this in either form: with such delicacy and reverence, like he’s a creature to admire and behold. he searches those hazel eyes and finds a world previously unknown to him: one of warmth that doesn’t scald, of love that doesn’t fetter, and acceptance free of stipulation. at that, something within mike shifts.

he bows his head and melts into it—into will, and his sweet, open palms that will not hurt him. will, who doesn't look away and feels no fear. this is mike—his mike—and he loves him now as he always has and he always will. he is no monster; no, he's his heart, his loyal protector, and the most beautiful person will has ever known. he presses a kiss to mike's bowed head, and whispers it into his fur and the night air between them, again and again and again—i love you, i know you, i love you so much, i love you now and always—however many times until he knows it and believes it, too. he is beautiful, he is loved, and he is no monster. he's only mike. his caring, brave, and intelligent mike. his loving, tempestuous, and doughty mike who has had to be strong for so very long. will gives and gives and gives, and for once... mike allows himself to take.

they stay like that for a time: gentle hands carding through dark fur, proving to him with every stroke and scratch that he is good and worthy and wanted; lips peppering his head and paws with a litany of kisses, paused only by will’s sputtering and giggles at the fur sticking to his pout, and the exaggerated groans and squirms of protest when mike returns his affections with kisses of his own. will inevitably nods off while “resting his eyes” and mike curls around him as they wait for the sun to rise. when he returns, trembling and weak and unbound by will’s mercy, will is quick to wrap him in one of the blankets they brought and hold him close.

it's about a boy that becomes a wolf, yes; but, more than that, it's about acceptance, about unlearning shame and the rage and grief it bears, about allowing yourself to be seen and witnessed, and about accepting that which you cannot control. mike deserves to learn that he’s worthy and loved just the way that he is.

werewolf!mike vibes: “[the monsters]; you won’t encounter them unless you stow them away inside your soul, unless your soul sets them up before you.” + rage and tenderness existing simultaneously in the same body + "i fear i will be ripped open and found unsightly." + "who hasn’t ever wondered: am i monster or is this what it means to be a person?”

Which one is royalty?

grrrr. mike is canonically a suburban rich boy and he'd look dashing in regal attire. that makes him the easy choice, especially with his canon arc of being forced to grow up and conform, too, but... he's also a paladin and i kind of really like the idea of him swearing an oath of fealty to prince william and being his personal kingsguard, so.. either or! i've no preference heh.

Which one works at the coffee shop?

barista!mike just feels Right. him coming home smelling like coffee, plastering on the most fake and passive aggressive customer service persona ever at work, wearing an apron, and bringing will treats is everything to me. i am, however, also partial to those AUs where el owns a cafe-bakery, will works there, and mike is a writer that drops by often because will may or may not be his muse for the project he’d been previously stuck on.

Which one is the florist and which one is the tattoo artist?

i like will for both! they’re both rather artsy, careful pursuits and he’s an artsy, careful kind of guy! also, picture will giving mike a flower and telling him it reminded him of him. mike would gay panic so hard he’d short-circuit and die lmao.

Which one is the tutor?

mike. he's a physics and math tutor. will asks for his help with algebra and mike tells him they got this. mike massages will’s hand when he whines about all the writing they’re doing, helps him take better notes, and uses the will voice when he sees he’s getting frustrated with himself. will doodles mini cartoon versions of mike on his scrap paper then tears them off for him as a token of his appreciation, shares el’s cookies with him, and uses his puppy-dog eyes to try and weasel the answers out of him. mike keeps every doodle and resists his wicked tricks (which is no easy feat, he says) only because he genuinely wants will to pass. they sit so close that will can feel the heat coming off of mike and mike has to grip his own biceps to keep from making up any excuse to touch will. despite the endless distraction that is mike’s very existence, will manages to pass because mike makes him feel smart and capable. will blushes and stammers his way through inviting mike to a celebratory lunch and gulps when mike, who has been impatiently waiting for the semester to be over so they can be more than friends-who-are-not-just-friends without his supervisor giving him A Look, positively beams at him with a smile reserved for his eyes only and accepts, saying he was just about to ask him out on a movie date himself.

Which one offers to teach the other how to kiss?

it depends. mike is the first to kiss someone, so he offers to teach will how to kiss when he learns he still hasn’t done it (and he tries to ignore and swallow down the pride that swells in his chest after, knowing he’s will’s first). conversely, mike begrudgingly tells will one day that his date told him he isn't a good kisser (it's not true; he's just not interested), so will offers to teach him his tricks. it turns out he’s a very good teacher, but mike claims to be a slow learner, so he may be in need of some more lessons, please, mr. byers.

Which one gets too drunk at the party?

will, but it was an accident. he either forgot that he took a klonopin or spaced it out wrong and now that “pure fuel” is hitting a little too hard. he’s not a sloppy drunk, thank god, but he is very affectionate and smiley to the point that his cheeks hurt. mike kisses his rosy face, tells him he looks like a cute chipmunk, and takes him home.

Which one doesn't want to play Spin the Bottle?

mike. absolutely not. he shuts that shit down with his signature grimace and overreaction, and slings his arm over will’s shoulders, leaving them both like: 😠 and 😳. it's too messy! and scary. and it makes his tummy feel weird. he doesn't want to kiss will (that's not true. he does want to kiss him. maybe even [definitely] a little too much. not that it matters anyway, he already knows will doesn’t feel the same way. [which is rich, considering will is blushing cherry-red beneath his arm and instinctively wrapping his around mike’s waist in turn.]) and he doesn't want anyone else to kiss him either. has the same energy as him barking and biting at dustin when he tried to help will up on halloween night. that's his will. back off and no touchy or kissy! 😡 mike steers them away with a scoff and his signature, “c’mon, will,” as if he wouldn’t follow him anywhere. once they’re alone, will cheekily asks him what all that was about and has to bite down on his amused and all-too-satisfied smile when mike starts sputtering and stammers out some shitty, see-through non-excuse. will hums, mike tells him to shut up, and will, feeling bold and brave enough for them both, tells him to make him.

#byler #byler hc #byler au #ideas #mine #asks #>:) #long post #no read more bc i'm evil. U Will See My Poaste Boy #small text bc i tried to make this big post smaller. hashtag in my philanthropy era

[yellow-n-blue-hyperfixation]

Me composing an essay longer than anything l have ever wrote for school after my bestie called it boring and said “I don’t know their dynamics but they sound like [ship name we both dislike] but gay 🤭.” Like, I’m sorry but if I have to listen to you cry about not being able to read about gay wizards when ao3 was down, you must have at least enough decency to listen to me ramble about Byler at least once a month what happened to the mutual terms in our contract of our friendship-

#they went to sleep only to wake up to a long wall of text #on why their best friend thinks that two boys fighting inner demons and monsters from alternate dimensions in the 80s #is the greatest love story they ever seen- #byler #but srsly tho they’re such a great friend for putting up with my ramblings #Coz every time l say: “We don’t hv to talk abt Byler anymore if you’re getting tired of it” #They go: “Don’t stop l’m interested in what you’re interested in-“ #I’ll read a marauders fic just for them later since they tolerate me this far- #even tho l don’t like HP all that much

[thesaurus]

// tried to make this more aesthetic and cool or whatever

// but not having someone breathing hot air into your neck and nuzzling their beard into the top of your back in the morning? jfc

// the indignity

#boys are so beautiful and also the worst #me trying to go to sleep like WHY isn't someone delicately CRADLING MY ENTIRE BODY TONIGHT?! #so glad my ancestors procreated for long enough that I could care about text messages! and read receipts! and scheduling logistics! #like fully take my life

[corvidexoskeleton]

Some thoughts about the vaults and the creatures they contain

I've been doing a replay of the borderlands games recently, the first time I've replayed any of the games since completing the 3rd, and it's given me a lot of time to really consider and reconsider certain aspects with the new (ish) lore from BL3

The biggest thing that I've come to reconsider, however, is the nature of the vaults - all of the vaults - and the creatures and weapons they contain

Now, I wouldn't be surprised if someone else had this thought, or something similar to this way before I did, but if they have then I haven't seen it. But let's not waste any time

To start, from the very beginning of the series, the vaults are mysterious Eridian ruins that tend to house stuff that ends up being pretty lucrative. Some of the corporations use what they've discovered inside of various vaults in order to mamufacture high-tech weapons, and other advanced technology. But for the most part, the vaults tend to hold some kind of super powered monster that the people who wake them up generally end up having to fight, and it's the leftover stuff that gets focused on

This seems kind of odd, doesn't it? Iirc, it's been speculated that these vaults were used as ancient prisons for these monsters, a way to lock them away from the universe and seal them to keep them from wreaking havoc. That idea seems to hold some water with the reveal of the great vault in bl3, and the revelation of how the Eridians captured and sealed away the destroyer. After all, for all their technology, weapons, and everything else at their disposal, the Eridians just simply couldn't kill or stop the destroyer, so they created a vault to contain it. So it naturally follows that the other vaults containing their own monster would be fulfilling a similar roll

Well.... after giving it some thought, I don't think that's the case. After opening the vault on Promethea and defeating the rampager, Tyreen tells the vault hunters that the monsters are the power of the vaults. They're not the things guarding it, they are the power of the vault they’re housed within

Now, after translating Nyriad's glyphs in bl3, we learn that the warrior was created and housed on pandora in order to protect the great vault, the vault of the destroyer, and keep it from being opened. It's a biological weapon of mass destruction made for the express purpose of making sure that the great vault is left the fuck alone and remains sealed

There's also the vault on Elpis that contains all the information on pandora, the great vault, and the vault of warrior, which is defended by the sentinal. The sentinal, of course, being there to protect that information from falling into the hands of anyone who would seek that information for their own goals, because while it is geneally a good idea to leave behind a detailed explanation of the great vault and pandora - sort of like one of those nuclear waste dumps covered in spikes - it's also not the kind of information that you would want just anyone or everyone to know, as evidenced by the events in the pre sequal. The vault on Elpis serves a purpose, and houses a very powerful entity within it to ensure and protect that purpose

And I think that the same thing can be said about all the other vaults, or at least all of the vaults we discover in the series. In fact, I have to wonder if the monsters in those vaults aren't prisoners, or dangerous weapons the Eridians couldn't control or destroy, but creatures left behind in order to defend the planets they're sealed on from the destroyer

It seems just as odd as the vaults being prisons, but personally I think it would make more sense than prisons, especially with the lore we're given in 3. After all, as mentioned before, the warrior was made and put on pandora for the sole purpose of defending pandora from any who would seek to open the great vault and release the destroyer, and the creatures in the other vaults - the rampager, the gravewarden - don't really seem to be that much different

But that begs another question, which is why? Why, if they couldn't defeat the destroyer, would they leave behind dozens of vaults containing weapons of mass destruction to fight the damn thing? If they could use those WMD's to fight it off, why wouldn't they do that instead? Because if it turns out that their plan to seal the destroyer doesn't work, or it eventually fails, then the vaults at least provide a way to delay the destruction of people who might have a better chance of defeating it

The vaults that housed those monsters were clearly marked on the map projected by the vault key - the vault key is specifically used to open the vault of the destroyer, the vault of the warrior, and the great vault. And we know that the Eridians tried as hard as they could to make sure that the vaults they left behind were not only locked, but protected as well. The Eridians were nothing if not thorough, and I don't think that an ancient race as advanced as them would lock the destroyer up with only the warrior as a backup in case someone wanted to open it back up

The Eridians lost their entire civilization in order to contain the destroyer, but that doesn't mean that their sacrifice would be the last, and if and when the time comes for the destroyer to finally break its chains, then they don't want the rest of the universe to be unprepared and defenseless, even if in the best case scenario all they serve to do is delay the inevitable and give someone else a chance to, if not find a way to deal with it that the Eridians couldn't do, then to at least escape

#text post tag #borderlands #long post #read more #ya boi be thinking about vaults and eridians #i hope this is coherent hsbdbfxjjs im writing this on my phone in bed without looking anything up

[aro-aizawa]

sighs in contentment......

#shut up danni's talking #hi yes i always feel happy as FUCK when i read a v long fic but doubly so when i realise that i caught up before the end #i have spend idk how long maybe 4/5 days reading a 700k+ word fic #w only two more chapters left and i just. oh BOY #i cannot even begin to get into all the details i adore about this fic #and yes i am absolutely talking abt mortified #i spent the majority of the time listening to it via text to speech while playing mindless games #but when i got to the parts i hadn't read before (like the last 50 chaps i think) i had to give it my full attention #i just. there is so much i love. #it just adds so many aspects of world building that feels so right that its almost unnatural when i see things that goes against it #i just. #also theres no shortage of pride in there too bc wow 700k words in under a week? deffo good #HOWEVER my goal w listening to it rather than reading was hopefully something that'd take longer #considering how i read faster than it takes to speak things alas i'll have to wait for chapters again which is weird #i have been behind on it for so long #i have this mega word doc summarising the fic that i was working on to help me keep up w plot threads #and im not joking abt the mega its mammoth and i gave up in parts #i'll probs work on it as i reread it again at some point #its deffo smth i'm gonna share when its done bc i it is LONG and i know ppl don't have as much time as i do #but i want the opportunity for ppl to not balk at the size of the fic to not even attempt to read it #or if they want to read it but can only read a chapter a day so they'll need a reminder #one of the things i'll always be thankful for in fanfics is when ppl bookmark fics with a summary of the plot #its just. its reassuring to me to know vaguely what's going to happen #esp bc some plot elements will always instantly call to me #i can't begin to tell you how many fics i've ebbed and erred on but were ultimately swayed by bookmarkers' summaries #also i like to reread seconds of fics if i don't reread the whole thing #so knowing where those sections are located is v v helpful #anyways thats my lil fan project for mortified lol #always get a lil flustered when i interact w the author bc WOW the skill????? the dedication??? always a lil in awe #now to zone out and stare at my ceiling trying to process that masterpiece

[theflagscene]

Just felt like sharing, that at least a dozen times today I’ve accidentally went to tag ‘Never let me go’ as ‘Never let me ho’ and I’m just like… that would be an entirely different show, ngl, I’d kinda be down for it lol.

#I recently broke my thumbnail like all the way down #so texting on my phone is slightly off thanks to me overshooting where I have to hit #normally I have very long nails #I broke this one saving a fish #yes you read that right #one of my mother’s fish was stuck in a clay pagoda that had been knocked over in her fish tank #so I broke the pagoda apart with my bare hands to get the fish out and in the process ripped my thumbnail off #I can’t even make this shit up #what even is my life? #anyways yes a NLMG prostitution AU called Never Let Me Hoe #kinda like pretty woman with rich boy Nueng falling for broke sex worker Palm #Never Let Me Hoe… I’m just saying #you’d watch it don’t even act

[halfdeadfriedrice]

last one for the night because it's late and honestly i'm just nostalgia-bombing for me, but i found the poem. i've been looking for this poem for years. around 5 or 6 or 7 of them, since she stopped talking to me, moved away, and fell off the internet. i had lost the future but i find it difficult to not be able to carry the past, and how often do you get poems written about you?

god 16 was hard. and everything after that too.

since i'm removing it from its original context: some CWs for disordered eating, being 16, references to christianity and the republican-moderate agenda

when jesus ate my house

by [linna], Jul 8, 2008, 3:47:27 PM

1.   do you hate me?, she asks.

my legs are in my face, pressed in the crevice, earth-break, ripping of my nose, hanging between my eyes like an extra arm, curling in on itself. i feel sick, dizzy; the world is a dribbled basketball, a honeyed ham, an empty soda bottle, a gutter and a staircase. i could grab her face, stretch the skin, vomit.

no, i want to say. no, no, no. please, don't think that. why would you think that? no. no, no, no. please, no. never.

i sob and shake. she wracks her brain for reasons to hate herself. i can't respond. my mouth slows and my head fevers, paces. i shiver. her eyes melt.

i am silent, fitfully, regrettably.

2.   my head is the new batcave.

he starts up his car; the engine rears. my stomach roars with fitful delight. my gut cooks up a tornado against fasting, against eating, against being awake.

she laughs at my stupid jokes, my silly words, my bad metaphors. she laughs and she smirks and she smiles and she grins, and she laughs, she laughs,

she laughs. it is enough.

3.   at the books-a-million at the local outdoor mall, we sip drinks and i anxiously count the minutes to closing time, searching for the words on the table. it will not hand them over. i look at her, blank, unsure.

you listen, she says. i'm not leaving. emily isn't leaving and i am not leaving and i don't care who left you before, because i am not going anywhere.

in the middle of the night she is telling me about gay men and a fire and her father's coffee maker, and i am throwing my legs in places i don't understand and my brain struggles with the idea of not-sleeping, while she smiles and begins to dream when she is still awake, and i know that she will for long after.

oh, i want to say. don't you understand? you're going everywhere.

4.   the sky promises thunderstorms. i crack my fingers and bury my head between my knees, the epitome of safe.

she has been underlining things with her voice. i italicize, emphasize. she emboldens, brightens. i shrink back, slowly, step by step. she reaches out.

5.   we are laying in my driveway. david jennings   (my arch-nemesis, my rival, my enemy) rests at my side, crusted in my palm, and she is absent-mindedly watching the moon chew.

i am still babbling about my anorexia; it is the day of my diagnosis. she listens. i silently ask the stars to let the moment never end; however,

i am the one who stands up finally and says, it's getting late. let's go back.

6.   my dad does not understand why i had to sit in the car to talk to her on the phone. his eyebrows constrict, contract, become semicolons and dashes and questions murdering his forehead. there is a contortionist living in my father's brow.

i tell him he does not understand. the telephone is like a dead rock in my hand, echoing her words, her sighs, her ums, her giggles.

he shakes his head, mutters something about teenagers. i recoil.

7.   i want to, but

i do not tell her that i am afraid. i am strong, like milked bones and tightened rope and prisoner biceps. i am indestructible, i am clean, i am fortified, i am unbreakable.

i am too much.

8.   she makes me try on nicknames. they fit like worn jeans, ballet slippers, ugly bathing suits.

lee is the first one she tries. i unsuccessfully try to convince her that leeann is a name on its own, that doesn't need to be shortened, altered, modified, bloodied, pulped.

lunch comes next. i give her mine with a reassuring glance and she smiles, sad, and works her way through it, rhythmically. she senses the awkwardness and drops the name; it sticks about as well as her trying to shove food down my throat.

linna, she finally settles on. it comes out of nowhere: no backup, no story, no explanation. it is simply there, attached onto my back, hanging off my nose. she reads it in my eyes.

she does not let it go. and after a while, i don't know if i want her to.

9.   i don't feel real, sometimes. like my feet are simply weighted leaves, and my hands are lightened bricks, and my head is an empty balloon, about to pop. sometimes i feel like i am the burden of someone's imagination, a figment of someone's unsympathetic hands. a clay figure, a doll, a wooden statue, a house, a wall, a child, a corpse.

i hope she feels skin and bones, tissues and nerves, solidity and liquid, earth and water and air and form. i hope she realizes, and i hope she always

remembers.

10.   this is a fic in which rodney is a unicorn and john is a rainbow.

my face is lost to the curve of my elbow. it is three-thirty a.m. and i cannot breathe. she spoons her ice cream and smiles, laughing dryly, quietly pleased.

there is nothing more. there doesn't need to be.

11.   only you, she is cracking up, speaking through the giggles, can listen to this song while reading romantic fluff.

i grin. oh, be quiet, i say, and go back to your bdsm and bloodplay.

with pleasure.

12.   she is my first victim.

i am practicing telling people i have a problem. it comes out hasty, undefined, nervous. oh, i have a disorder.   oh, that's just my anxiety issues.   panic attacks? yeah, i get those.

she does not know what to do with this information. i can tell. she has her legs bunched up underneath her, crouching to look at me not-eating lunch on the cafeteria floor, burrowed in the corner.

what are you doing here?, she says, instead. she does not know what to do, so she smiles.

i open my mouth. i think i like her already.

13.   i'll walk with you, she says. i stare.

my voice cracks when i attempt to speak. really?

yeah, really, she says, laughs. why not?

14.   there is a voice in the back of my head that tells me to listen to her when she talks about god, jesus, church. about belief. there is a voice in the back of my head that says to listen to her conservative views, her republican-moderate agenda. there is a voice in the back of my head that says,

shut up, for once, and listen.

15.   in a pool in north carolina in a smelly hotel with a full set of clothes on each, we talk about our lives. we explain ourselves, quietly, shyly,

unapologetically.

16.   eat, linna, she says. please.

    i don't know how to tell her where i would be     without her. without her telephone calls,     her pokes and her prods, her questions; her asking     of my writing, her encouraging me on, her     awkward silences and comfortable speeches; the way     she sometimes sounds distant on the phone,     the way she inches in closer; her ethical debates, her     historical trivia, her moral inclinations, her     nocturnal sleeping schedules and     her overloaded eating habits, her addictions and her     favorites, her confessions and her not-secrets, her     wish-secrets, her honest-secrets.

no, i say. i'm sorry. i can't.

    i don't know how to tell her where i would be     without her.     i don't know how to explain, to convey,     to write and to picture         nowhere.

if you told me to stop,                         i would.                             anything.

17.   do you hate me?, she pleads, begs, wonders and fears.

i am silent.

and i promise myself that i never will be again, for her.

#half dead fried life #not to be glib or whatever but god how grateful i am to my friends who helped me out of who i was and into someone else #i hope i helped too #a little bit #i was like 'dang i can't find any chat logs about this' and the answer was i was just constantly phoning my girl up #and texting some probably #but i didn't get a phone that had the capacity for those paragraph-long texts for absolutely ages #LOLOLOL i just remembered i did have some stupid boy text me a poem he had written for me and then asked me to text it back to him #he had got a new phone or something #and i had to do it laboriously #like 6 little barely-connected format-lost pieces of poem #anyway #sometimes the poems people write for you are good #anyway x2 this is also very appropriate i think to dip my toes back into the knives feelings of HS for this reading of h.omestuck. #nice to see where i was at while all that was happening #i was backreading SGA fic and worrying about everyone #i had ever met

[stacyshotmom]

texts with my boyfriend <3

#texts with my boyfriend #boyfriend #my love #my #wife boy #go make me a sandwich #i thought this was hilarious #just because im so funny #im also so high #very high #and i hope y’all read my tags as one long subconscious thought sending thoughts right out my mind #thanks for listening #oh yeah #i forgot #new kink unlocked #lol #okay bye