#sick to my fucking tummy

[the-teddy-bear-butch]

It’s thinking about Jack Mass Effect hours again

Do you ever just. Do you ever just think about everything she went through. The physical and psychological torture to make her this perfect biotic, such awful things to make her the way she is, to make her aggressive and avoidant and so fucking angry—only to find out she didn’t even have it the worst? Because every other experiment was expendable to make her better? God the guilt of being the only one that “mattered”…

AND THEN becoming a teacher at a biotic academy, going against her violent streak to teach kids biotics the right way with kindness* (*and only playful bullying), with kids that admire her instead of fear her?

Because I do.

[its-all-papaya]

Ooo what’s omega lando about? Only if you wanna share!

need to be asleep ten minutes ago but answering one ask as a treat to myself for surviving 11-hour workday + performance check-in.

omega lando is just. smut. eventually i think i will write a proper world build-y a/b/o bc i'm fascinated by the mundane and societal aspects of dynamics, but this is not that fic. this is smut with a lot of internal monologue on the side.

here, since i have no earthly idea when i'll finish the last 1/10th of this and get it on the ol' ao3:

"There you go," Oscar murmurs at his temple, "that's so good, Lando. You're so good." It sends a shiver all through him - would even without the hand Oscar's shoved up the back of his t-shirt, scratching his long fucking fingernails over the nobs of Lando's spine. Fingernails are mostly an omega thing. If Lando’d not been able to smell Oscar across the fucking paddock before they were even teammates, he’d have thought- "Hey," Oscar's eyes are soft and round when Lando finally unglues his face from the side of his neck. The skin there is sweaty from the contact, and Lando's cheek sticks a little as they separate. "Can you tell me what's wrong?" Lando swallows once, twice. Oscar's scent is so strong he can taste it in the back of his throat. The feel of it dredges up locked-up memories of Oscar's wrist between Lando's teeth while he cried and cried on Oscar's knot, raw and weak and helpless. "You're being so good for me, sweetheart, just one more." Lando shakes again, but it's not exactly the same. It's twisty - the usual anxious shame he doesn't even understand why he ever feels all tangled up with something else, too. Something that gets stronger when Oscar’s hand pauses elbow-deep under his top, fingers just shy of Lando’s nape.

[tmascboyswag]

getting so sick of this faggots get them off my tumblr homepage now pls

[foxgloveinspace]

I buzzed all my hair off. I love it and yet Im so scared at the same time??

Edit: I do not love it, but I’m not like… I don’t hate it!! But I don’t love it. Just so… we’re all on the same page here.

[luna-the-cretar]

My family had a barbecue yesterday, where they made burgers and hotdogs. And my mom has a routine where, every Sunday, she makes breakfast for dinner. Usually she just sticks with pancakes and bacon, but I guess she decided to mix it up tonight.

Anyway, I’m saying this because I ended up grabbing two sausage patty’s, thinking they were leftover hamburgers, and put cheese on them. Didn’t realize that they were, in fact, not burger patty’s until I was halfway through my meal

[seventh-district]

.

[bloodtwin]

@accultant ⸻ continued from here :

I don’t deserve to be coddled, they bite their tongue against answering, curling into a smaller ball where they sit with their shoulder pressed against Puck’s, their knees to their chest. It isn’t fair that he has to comfort them when they were the one who lied. They made the choice to hide it all from him, manipulate him. All in a futile, foolish attempt to erase their past, and themselves along with it. It was always their fault.  “I failed you in so many ways, Puck,” they respond quietly, looking at their hands as they worry and pick at the same hole in their cloak that they mended just the night before. It’s hard to talk so openly and honestly for a number of reasons. One of them being that Puck and Iago, as close as they’ve always been, as important as they are to each other, stopped talking a long time ago. Even before the Bhaal temple, so much was left unspoken and so much was never truly addressed. They were stuck with a horrible, rotten life and only had one person in the world to turn to - and they often failed to do even that, mistaking codependency and obsession for support.  Now, they’re finally trying. Iago insists upon it, as difficult as it is. They have to be better.   “I was not a good sibling,” they continue, stating it like a fact. It is a fact, in Iago’s eyes. Puck won’t ever be able to remember all the ways they let him down. He won’t remember playing lanceboard or wearing matching bows as kids, either.  A hole rips beneath their shaking fingers and they start to wind a thread around their pinkie.  “I shouldn’t have lied. I know that’s no way to fix that, but…” they have to add before they go on, their thoughts choppy and disjointed as they chip at the truth. They’ll never be able to apologize enough for what they did to him, but it must be said anyway.  “But I was scared that you wouldn’t want me as I was,” their voice has devolved into a mumble, losing steam quickly as the lump in their throat grows. “I thought that I would be better left forgotten. Sometimes I still do. Maybe if you remembered what I was like -” they’re already shaking their head as they interrupt themselves. “No. You wouldn’t agree, you’ve always been patient with me. Kind. But the truth is, you deserve a better sibling than what I was for you.” That shouldn't have been your choice to make, Iago.

HE LISTENS. Absorbs their words. Gathers his thoughts. Then he sucks in a breath, begins:  ❝ You’re right. ❞ 

        He hopes his tone doesn’t come across as harsh. He doesn’t mean it that way, though he would not be surprised if a hint of bitterness wormed its way in. He will forgive Iago in time; there is no questioning that, of course he will, but he is still angry for now. Still heartbroken.

Voice as steady as he can muster, he continues, ❝ You shouldn’t have lied. I won't scold you for it again; you already know how I feel about your little long con. It hurt me in ways I will never be able to forget. ❞ Pause. Hm. Well 。。。

❝ Barring the admittedly higher than average chance that I get another lobotomy, of course, ❞ he clarifies before cringing at the fact that such a thing even needs clarifying, ❝ I will never forget that pain. Though, truthfully, I wouldn't want to forget it. Because it was you, & I love all of you, even the parts that hurt me. ❞

❝ But yes, what you did was not what a good sibling would have done, I agree. ❞

        Puck shifts to face them more directly. His hands reach forward to gently pry the thread from their pinkie. No need to suffocate the poor thing ‘til it turns purple simply because they want to punish themselves. Or maybe they just can't help fidgeting despite the potential harm. Puck understands both instincts & wishes neither on them. 

❝ Now, this is the part where I could go on & say that I’m not a good sibling, either. That would be true, too. I may not remember anything, but I know I wasn’t exactly a saint. I’m sure that extends to how I treated you; I doubt I was always patient. Definitely not always kind, that just sounds insane. I can't imagine the leader of a murder cult being benevolent. ❞ 

        He’s hunched over now, head tilting upwards to look at them like that of a curious dog. His fingers slip between theirs, thumb brushing the back of their hand. Eyebrows raise with an absentminded hum. ❝ In a way, we’re already a bit even with each other, no ？But that isn’t really the point of what I said. ❞

His hand retracts to cup his own chin, elbows resting on his knees. Puck looks out at the ocean, and there is a long pause as he watches the sun dip beneath the waves. One of his feet idly kicks at the large rock they sit on. 

        ❝ I didn’t claim you were too good to be forgotten. I said you didn’t deserve it. ❞ Eyes flick back to his twin. ( Gods, his twin 。His twin, his twin, he has a twin 。That’s why he always felt like something was missing. Like half of him had been stolen away. It was never his memories. It was Iago. All this time, it was them. Of course it was them. ) 

❝ No one deserves to be forgotten by their own brother, Iago. No matter what they’ve done. I don’t care that we treated each other like shit. Of course we did. I’d bear the weight of knowing all my sins tenfold if it meant I could remember you, too. It isn’t fair that you have to carry those memories alone. ❞ 

        Dark eyebrows furrow. He knows it isn’t that simple. That he would surely buckle under the pain of all he’d done. But at least he’d have someone to lean on, then. He’s glad to be able to lean on them now, so he does. His head finds a comfortable home in the crook of Iago’s neck.

❝ You told me we were sweet once. The other day. I responded with something rather bitter because I could not control my anger at the time. I believe you, though. That we were, I mean. But even if that weren’t true, I am still sorry that I cannot remember it. That I cannot remember you. ❞

        He swallows roughly, trying & failing ⸻ always failing ⸻ to hold back the tears that sting his eyes. Despite that, he lifts his head to look at Iago, his sibling, his twin, directly because they are the only one with whom he can. Delicately, he takes their face between his hands.

❝ Worst of all, I am sorry that I cannot apologize for all I've done to you. You did not deserve that, either. ❞ Firmly, he adds, ❝ Even if you hurt me, too. It is not fair that you have to carry both of our sins on your own. You must understand that you deserve so much more than that. Tell me that you do. ❞

[justanillvampire]

I’m in so much pain. I logged off of work 😭 I always feel like the biggest pos when I do but I feel so fucking horrible. My stomach, my throat, my head, my arms. The dizzy swimming feeling every time I move my head. The pounding of my heart beating against my skull. My heart thumping in my chest like a bird trapped in a cage. My thumbs and finger twitching with and without pain, the constant electricity causing them to spasm. The lake of lava at the base of my oesophagus constantly burning, every breathe in squeezes the trigger to launch the acid with every outward breathe. I’m burning alive while my heart races, my head swims and my arm twitch and spasm. The room is fuzzy, my breathe shallow, tears streaming down my face.

Happy Friday.

[the-teddy-bear-butch]

HARROWHARK, I GAVE YOU MY WHOLE LIFE, AND YOU DIDNT EVEN WANT IT.

[buggyandthebartoclub]

Who’s the poutiest character when they’re sick - got super sick last night and now I need to make a fictional man suffer w me

[scoopsgf]

do you guys think that in s2 when will said “let me go” it wasn’t just the mind flayer trying to escape, but maybe also teeny tiny twelve year old will begging for his family to let him go, as in die, but then mike wheeler said “it was the best thing i’d ever done” about making friends with him? anyway.

[rpfofficial]

never underestimate the power some random artist on tumblr has to make you feel emotions over a guy youve never felt emotions for before

[cicidraws]

biggest things is covid and norovirus and all i can say is im not doing well at all

[hellhoundlair]

do you ever read the most gut wrenchingly beautifully written tragedy, and then you have to go to bed and go to work the next day. i dont want to go to work i want to walk hours in the night air until i reach the coast and watch the sun rise on the horizon.

[virtualmosshroom]

I hate being sick when it’s excruciatingly hot outside. I’m running a fever and I can’t even do anything. My hm is asleep on the couch, where the ac is, so I’m stuck in my room. Just laying here waiting for time to pass.

[icky-puppi]

whyyy am i not gettin stabbed rn !!!!!!