#the walking dead done running

[firefly-fez]

nothing gets to me about star wars like the fact that ahsoka and rex were forced to leave dead brothers discarded and abandoned in the ruins of war literally day after day, battle after battle, and the first thing they do when the war is over is take the time to bury the dead.

[auditoreum]

And here he is!

[allthegothihopgirls]

i am here again asking the good people of tumblr.com for comic recommendations... i am in such a reading slump and the world is so big and i don't know what to start

i'll take anything that's not batfam or harley/ivy centric. it doesn't just have to be dc either... and a shorter run is always appreciated

[eclaire-went-bam]

help i accidentally started a lockdown in three different towns i just wanted to sell a cougar carcass

[uwugenides]

anyways, venting in the tags cause what else

[this-machine-runs-on-coffee]

"DEAD GAY SON" THIS IS NOT AN EXACT TRANSLATION, THIS IS AN ADAPTATION (AND ONE THAT STILL NEEDS TONS OF FIXING AT THAT)

Now, you're seeing the word "Dead" for the third time in my adapted songs. Am I obsessed with death? No, JD is, that's why it's there. I should also say I don't really like how this one came out, but I had to give you something in theme with pride month, even though this song isn't exactly the best (and I'm sorry for that but I would've had to adapt this song eventually and idk how but many people seem to find this song funny on YouTube so here you are). I should specify I could do way better with other songs and that I dislike how this one came out but it's very close to the original meaning (IMO) so here you have it, "Dead Gay Son". I'm also sorry for keeping the slur, but it was in the original song and adapting songs is (at least for me) keeping them as close as possible to the original meaning while keeping them singable. Also I fucked up the syllables and rhymes so bad

ASK ME FOR PERMISSION BEFORE USING THIS, DO CREDIT ME IF YOU EVER USE THIS (I doubt you will it’s impractical and still needs so much fixing it’s unbelievable) AND TELL ME/LINK WHATEVER YOU USED IT FOR USING REBLOGS (because for some reason Tumblr doesn’t like comments with links and while I do think I understand why I don’t always like it)

(the apostrophes [or however ’ is called] are used to shorten the number of syllables often in poetry so I’m obviously abusing that power.)

[PAPÀ DI RAM, parlato] Aspetta solo un minuto, Paul! È parlare in modo ignorante e odioso come fai tu che rende questo un posto che i nostri ragazzi non sopportavano!

(cantato) Non erano sconci! Non era una svistina! Eran due versi solitari Nella grande canzone divina!

[PAPÀ DI KURT, parlato] I nostri figli erano finocchi, Bill!

[PAPÀ DI RAM] Sì! Mio figli'è un omosessuale E di questo non mi vergognerei— Voglio che il mondo sappia... Amo il mio morto figlio gay!

(parlato) Sono stato a pensare. Pregare. Leggere un po' di riviste. Ed è tempo di aprire le nostre menti!

(cantato) Beh, il buon Dio l'universo ha fatto Dio ha creato l'umanità E penso che sia parte del suo piano nella sua immensità So che Dio ha una ragione Per ogni oceano ed ogni goccia E perché ha deciso di lasciar i ragazzi farsi nella doccia! Non erano sconci— Non erano animali! Eran due lacci isolati nei divini stivali! Non m'è mai'mportato tanto di gay ma ora me ne interesserei

[PAPÀ DI RAM & CONGREGAZIONE] E ora ho imparato ad amare…

[PAPÀ DI RAM] Amo il mio morto figlio gay!

[CONGREGAZIONE] Ama suo figlio Ama suo figlio Il suo morto gay figlio!

[PAPÀ DI RAM] Ora, dico che mio figli'è in Paradiso! E che s'abbronza in piscina Il cherubino cammina con loro e, Gesù dice ch'è 'na cosa carina! Non hanno crimini o odio, non ci sono bigottismo o'nsulti - Solo persone amichevoli vestite come i loro compaesani preferiti! Non erano sconci—

[CONGREGAZIONE] No, no!

[PAPÀ DI RAM] Si sentivano rimossi!

[CONGREGAZIONE] Whoa!

[PAPÀ DI RAM] Nei lunghi capelli di Dio eran due elastici rossi Prima quando vedevo un gay avrei detto "Gli sparerei"

[PAPÀ DI RAM & CONGREGAZIONE] Ma ora ho imparato ad amare…

[PAPÀ DI RAM] E per di più! Quei due, eran coraggiosissimi! Quei due, ne erano coscientissimi! Quelli li avrebbero giudicati, eran disperati d'esser liberi! Si son comportati da ribelli, nudi quasi ai gioielli! Paul, non posso credere Che continui a rifiutar di capire Quest'è quel che eravam destinat'a fare—

(parlato) Parlo di me e te! Nell'estate dell'83!

[PAPÀ DI KURT, parlato] Quello è stato un viaggio particolare

[CONGREGAZIONE] Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa Whoa, whoa, whoa! Non erano sconci— No! E non solo una percossa— No, no! Erano dello strass Sulla divina borsa!

[ENTRAMBI I PAPÀ] Il nostro lavoro è di fare quel che da tempo pensavo: "Lo farei"!

[CONGREGAZIONE] Perché ora amiamo, amiamo, amiamo Amiamo i vostri—

[PAPÀ DI RAM] Sono sù là al battito delle ali angeliche a ballar!

[PAPÀ DI KURT] Un compagno prendono…

[PAPÀ DI RAM] Verso l'un l'altro si tendono—

[ENTRAMBI I PAPÀ] Mentre Judy Garland sta a cantar!

[PAPÀ DI RAM] Vivono una seconda vita spensierata e spericolata!

[PAPÀ DI KURT] Si dondolan sul cancello incastonato—

[ENTRAMBI I PAPÀ & CONGREGAZIONE] E hanno una collana incastonata!

[CONGREGAZIONE] Whoo!

[ENTRAMBI I PAPÀ] Non erano sconci!

[CONGREGAZIONE] No!

[ENTRAMBI I PAPÀ & CONGREGAZIONE] Eran bravi uomini! E ora son felici cuccioli nella tana dei divini!

[ENTRAMBI I PAPÀ] Andate avanti e amatevi ora Come avrebbe fatto mio figlio Insegneremo al mond'ad amar...

[CONGREGAZIONE] Al mond'ad amar...

[TUTTI] Al mond'ad amar...

[ENTRAMBI I PAPÀ sovrapponendosi con la congregazione] Amo il mio morto gay figlio! Mio figlio! Mio figlio!

[CONGREGAZIONE] Non tanto male, il tuo morto figlio gay! Vorrei aver il tuo morto figlio gay! Grazie, papà, per il tuo...

[ENTRAMBI I PAPÀ & CONGREGAZIONE] Morto! Figlio! Gay!

So, direct translation! (used in this to specify the meanings and explain certain word choices)

[RAM'S DAD, spoken] You wait just a minute, Paul! It is this ignorant, hateful way of talking like yours that makes this world a place our boys could not tolerate!

(sung) They were not dirty(but as in filthy/indecent)! It (I mean as in their "love" but can't find a way to specify it) wasn't a small oversight! They were two lonely verses In the great divine(/heavenly? I don't really know how to translate that but it's as in God's/Heaven's) song!

[KURT'S DAD, spoken] Our sons were pansies, Bill!

[RAM'S DAD] Yes! My son's a homosexual And of that I wouldn't be ashamed (for the rhyme)— I want the world to know... I love my dead gay(those two got inverted [gay and son])son!

(spoken) I've remained to think. To pray. To read some magazines. And it's time we opened our minds!

(sung) Well, the good Lord made the universe The Lord created humanity And I believe it's all a part of his plan in its immensity I know God has a reason For each ocean and drop And why he chose to let our boys do each other in the shower! They were not dirty(/filthy/indecent)— They were not animals (it fit for the rhyme)! They were just two stray laces in the divine(/Heaven's/the Lord's) big boots Well, I never cared for homos much but now I would be interested [RAM’S DAD & CONGREGATION] And now I've learned to love…

[RAM’S DAD] I love my dead gay(inverted in this part [son and gay])son!

[CONGREGATION] He loves his son He loves his son His dead gay son!

[RAM'S DAD] Now, I say my boy's in Heaven! And he's tanning by the pool The cherubim walks with them, and Jesus says it's cute! They don't have crime or hatred, there's no bigotry or insults - Just friendly fellows dressed up like their fav'rite fellow village Person! They were not dirty(filthy/indecent)—

[CONGREGATION] No, no!

[RAM’S DAD] They felt removed (for the rhyme)!

[CONGREGATION] Whoa!

[RAM’S DAD] They were two bright red rubberbands in God's long hair Before(,) when I saw a homo(/gay) I would've said "I'd shoot him" [RAM’S DAD & CONGREGATION] But now I've learned to love…

[RAM’S DAD] And furthermore! These boys were very brave! These boys , they were very conscient of it! Those folks would judge 'em, they were desperate to be free! They behaved like rebels, stripped almost to their jewels(/balls/testicles)! Paul, I can't believe That you keep on refusing to understand This is what we were meant to be doing—

(spoken) I'm talkin’ you and me! In the summer of '83!

[KURT'S DAD, spoken] That was one particular trip

[CONGREGATION] Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa Whoa, whoa, whoa! They were not dirty(/filthy/indecent)— No! And not only a hit (because they were bullies and hit people and that's what they were recognised from? Would that make sense?)— No, no! (Damn ok thanks for the confirmation) They were rhinestones On the divine(/Heaven's/God's) purse!

[BOTH DADS] Our job is now doing what for long I thought: "I'd do this"! [CONGREGATION] 'Cause now we love, love, love! We love your dead—

[RAM’S DAD] They're up there disco dancing to the thump of angel wings!

[KURT’S DAD] They grab a mate…

[RAM’S DAD] And lean(more like tend/stretch) toward each other—

[BOTH DADS] While Judy Garland is singing!

[RAM’S DAD] They live a second life that's fancy-free and reckless!

[KURT'S DAD] They swing upon the gates with gemstones set inside them—

[BOTH DADS & CONGREGATION] And wear a necklace with gemstones set inside it!

[CONGREGATION] Whoo!

[BOTH DADS] They were not dirty(/filthy/indecent)!

[CONGREGATION] No!

[BOTH DADS & CONGREGATION] They were good men! And now they're happy cubs in the Gods' (yup the apostrophe placing is intentional and not a mistake, that's what I mean, I'm hinting at the trinity) den!

[BOTH DADS] Go forth and love each other now Like my boy would have done We'll teach the world to love...

[CONGREGATION] The world to love...

[ALL] The world to love...

[BOTH DADS overlapping with congregation] I love my dead gay son! My son! My son!

[CONGREGATION] Not half bad, your dead gay son! Wish I had your dead gay son! Thank you, dad, for your...

[BOTH DADS & CONGREGATION] Dead! Gay! Son! OG LYRICS (if you’re seeing this I doubt you don’t know them, but here they are anyway):

[RAM'S DAD, spoken] You wait just a minute, Paul! It is ignorant, hateful talk like yours that makes this world a place our boys could not live in!

(sung) They were not dirty! They were not wrong! They were two lonely verses In the Lord's great song!

[KURT'S DAD, spoken] Our boys were pansies, Bill!

[RAM'S DAD] Yes! My boy's a homosexual And that don't scare me none— I want the world to know... I love my dead gay son!

(spoken) I've been thinking. Praying. Reading some magazines. And it's time we opened our eyes!

(sung) Well, the good Lord made the universe The Lord created man And I believe it's all a part of his gigantic plan I know God has a reason For each mountain and each flower And why he chose to let our boys get busy in the shower! They were not dirty— They were not fruits! They were just two stray laces in the Lord's big boots Well, I never cared for homos much until I reared me one

[RAM’S DAD & CONGREGATION] But now I've learned to love…

[RAM’S DAD] I love my dead gay son!

[CONGREGATION] He loves his son He loves his son His dead gay son!

[RAM'S DAD] Now, I say my boy's in heaven! And he's tanning by the pool The cherubim walk with him and him, and Jesus says it's cool! They don't have crime or hatred, there's no bigotry or cursin' - Just friendly fellows dressed up like their fav'rite Village Person! They were not dirty—

[CONGREGATION] No, no!

[RAM’S DAD] They just had flair!

[CONGREGATION] Whoa!

[RAM’S DAD] They were two bright red ribbons in the Lord's long hair Well, I used to see a homo and go reachin' for my gun

[RAM’S DAD & CONGREGATION] But now I've learned to love…

[RAM’S DAD] And furthermore! These boys were brave as hell! These boys , they knew damn well! Those folks would judge 'em, they were desperate to be free! They took a rebel stance, stripped to their underpants! Paul, I can't believe that you Still refuse to get a clue After all that we been through—

(spoken) I'm talkin’ you and me! In the summer of '83!

[KURT'S DAD, spoken] That was one hell of a fishing trip

[CONGREGATION] Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa Whoa, whoa, whoa! They were not dirty— No! And not perverse— No, no! They were just two stray rhinestones On the Lord's big purse!

[BOTH DADS] Our job is now continuing the work that they begun!

[CONGREGATION] 'Cause now we love, love, love! We love your dead—

[RAM’S DAD] They're up there disco dancing to the thump of angel wings!

[KURT’S DAD] They grab a mate…

[RAM’S DAD] And roller skate—

[BOTH DADS] While Judy Garland sings!

[RAM’S DAD] They live a playful afterlife that's fancy-free and reckless!

[KURT'S DAD] They swing upon the pearly gates—

[BOTH DADS & CONGREGATION] And wear a pearly necklace!

[CONGREGATION] Whoo!

[BOTH DADS] They were not dirty!

[CONGREGATION] No!

[BOTH DADS & CONGREGATION] They were good men! And now they're happy bear cubs in the Lord's big den!

[BOTH DADS] Go forth and love each other now Like our boys would have done We'll teach the world to love...

[CONGREGATION] The world to love...

[ALL] The world to love...

[BOTH DADS overlapping with congregation] I love my dead gay son! My son! My son!

[CONGREGATION] Not half bad, your dead gay son! Wish I had your dead gay son! Thank you, dad, for your...

[BOTH DADS & CONGREGATION] Dead! Gay! Son! THE ONE I NOW COMPARE IT TO (29/5/24)

[morningmask27]

Tonight, right now, not even ten minutes ago, might have been the closest I got to an outright hatecrime

[slutdge]

what's everybody's favorite breaking bad and/or better call saul scenes or episodes im on a rewatch rn and getting obsessed all over again

[mediapen]

this is the worst fucking trip of my life. i spent a week in russia having a massive panic attack every fucking day and THIS is the worst trip of my life

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

Every time I let my guard down, I’ll get one of those fucking texts. “Your package couldn’t be delivered” THE USPS DOESN’T SEND TEXTS LIKE THAT, THE USPS WEBSITE HAS .gov AND YOU ARE USING A FUCKING HOTMAIL ADDRESS! You thought you could catch my ass when I was waiting for a package, no, I actually double check with the usps website. You thought you could take advantage of my slight panic response, and you almost got me ONCE when the text woke me up, but i caught on… I have forgor how to report these people though O_O I reported the first guy out of spite for waking me up but now it’s such a pain

[gothamcityneedsme]

on a literary level, i understand why people consider the house in hol to be horrifying, the single signpost of all that is terrifying in the unknown and impossible etc. but for me, even in the book, the scary parts were always how those things affected and changed men. (or like. How man survives in such a space).

the house never really terrified me. The man is worse than the minotaur

[auditoreum]

Mild Worry...

[acourtofquestions]

No. No, it couldn't have been a dream The escape, Rowan, the ship to Terrasen—

A dream. An illusion. Her escape from him, from Maeve, had been another illusion.

Had she said it? Had she said where the Keys were hidden?

Then a cool, cultured voice purred, "All that training, and this is what becomes of you?" Not real. Arobynn, standing on the other side of the altar, was not real.

"Even Sam held out better than this."

Fenrys snarled.

You could get out of these chains, if you really wanted," Arobynn said, frowning with distaste. "If you really tried."

No, she couldn't, and everything had been a dream, a lie.

"You let yourself remain captive. Because the moment you are free..." Arobynn chuckled. "Then you must offer yourself up, a lamb to slaughter."

Only hearing the King of the Assassins, unseen and unnoted beside her.

"Deep down, you're hoping you'll be here long enough that the young King of Adarlan will pay the price. Deep down, you know you're hiding here, waiting for him to clear the path." Arobynn leaned against the side of the altar, cleaning his nails with a dagger. "Deep down, you know it's not really fair, that those gods picked you. That Elena picked you instead of him. She bought you time to live, yes, but you were still chosen to pay the price. Her price And the gods'?"

Arobynn ran a long-fingered hand down the side of her face. "Do you see what I tried to spare you from all these years? What you might have avoided had you remained Celaena, remained with me?" He smiled. "Do you see, Aelin?"

She could not answer. Had no voice. Cairn hit bone, and—

Aelin lunged upward, hands grasping for her thigh. No chains weighed her. No mask smothered her. No dagger had been twisted into her body. Breathing hard, the scent of musty sheets clinging to her nose, the sounds of her screaming replaced by the drowsy chirping of birds, Aelin scrubbed at her face.

The prince who'd fallen asleep beside her was already running a hand down her back in silent, soothing strokes.

A dream. Just a dream.

She twisted, setting her feet to the threadbare carpet on the uneven wood floor.

"Dawn isn't for another hour," Rowan said.

Yet Aelin reached for her shirt. "I'll get warmed up, then." Maybe run, as she had not been able to do in weeks and weeks.

Rowan sat up, missing nothing. "Training can wait, Aelin." They'd been doing it for weeks now, as thorough and grueling as it had been at Mistward.

She shoved her legs into her pants, then buckled on her sword belt.

"No, it can't."

A gathering storm to the north had forced their ship to find harbor last night—and after weeks at sea, none of them had hesitated to spend a few hours on land. To learn what in hell had happened while they'd been gone.

The answer: war.

Everywhere, war raged. But where the fighting occurred, the aging innkeeper didn't know. Boats didn't stop at the port anymore— and the great warships just sailed past. Whether they were enemy or friendly, he also didn't know.

Aelin scowled. "What." It wasn't so much of a question as demand.

His gaze was unfaltering. As it had been when she'd returned from her run through the misty fields beyond the inn and found him leaning against the apple tree. "That's enough for today."

"We've hardly started." She lifted her blade.

Rowan kept his own lowered. "You barely slept last night."

Aelin tensed. "Bad dreams." An understatement. She lifted her chin and threw him a grin. "Perhaps I'm starting to wear you down a bit."

His canines gleamed. "You need to eat."

"I need to train."

She couldn't stop it-that need to do something. To be in motion.

No matter how many times she swung her blade, she could feel them. The shackles. And whenever she paused to rest, she could feel it, too—her magic. Waiting.

Indeed, it seemed to open an eye and yawn.

She clenched her jaw, and attacked again Rowan met each blow, and she knew her maneuvers were descending into sloppiness.

Knew he let her continue rather than seizing the many openings to end it.

She couldn't stop. War raged around them People were dying. And she had been locked in that damned box, had been taken apart again and again, unable to do anything.

Rowan struck, so fast she couldn't track it. But it was the foot he slid before her own that doomed her, sending her careening into the dirt.

"I win," he panted. "Let's eat."

Aelin glared up at him. "Another round."

Rowan just sheathed his sword. "After breakfast."

She growled. He growled right back.

"Don't be stupid," he said. "You'll lose all that muscle if you don't feed your body. So eat. And if you still want to train afterward, I'll train with you." He offered her a tattooed hand.

But Aelin said, "People are dying. In Terrasen. In-everywhere. People are dying, Rowan."

"Your eating breakfast isn't going to change that." Her lips curled in a snarl, but he cut her off. "I know people are dying. We are going to help them. But you need to have some strength left, or you won't be able to."

Truth. Her mate spoke truth. And yet she could see them, hear them. Those dying, frightened people. Whose screams so often sounded like her own.

Rowan wriggled his fingers in silent reminder. Shall we?

Aelin scowled and took his hand, letting him haul her to her feet. So pushy.

Rowan slid an arm around her shoulders. That's the most polite thing you've ever said about me.

Elide's eyes widened. Widened further as he opened his mouth, and took a bite. His swallow was audible. His cringe barely contained. Elide reined in her smile at the pure misery that entered the Lion's tawny stare. Aelin and Rowan had been finishing up a similar battle when she'd entered the taproom minutes ago, the queen wishing her luck before striding back into the courtyard.

Elide hadn't seen her sit still for longer than it took to eat a meal. Or during the hours when she'd instructed them in Wyrdmarks, after Rowan had requested she teach them.

It had gotten her out of the chains, the prince had explained. And if the ilken were resistant to their magic, then learning the ancient marks would come in handy with all they faced ahead. The battles both physical and magic.

Gavriel met her stare, and Elide again restrained her laugh.

She felt, rather than saw, Lorcan enter. The innkeeper instantly found somewhere else to be. The man hadn't been surprised to see five Fae enter his inn last night, so his vanishing whenever Lorcan appeared was certainly due to the glower the male had perfected.

Indeed, Lorcan took one look at Elide and Gavriel and left the dining room.

They'd barely spoken these weeks. Elide hadn't known what to even say. A member of this court. Her court. Forever.

He and Aelin certainly hadn't warmed toward each other. No, only Rowan and Gavriel really spoke to him. Fenrys, despite his promise to Aelin not to fight with Lorcan, ignored him most of the time. And Elide ... She'd made herself scarce often enough that Lorcan hadn't bothered to approach her.

Good. It was good. Even if she sometimes found herself opening her mouth to speak to him. Watching him as he listened to Aelin's lessons on the Wyrdmarks. Or while he trained with the queen, the rare moments when the two of them weren't at each other's throats.

Aelin had been returned to them. Was recovering as best she could.

Elide didn't taste her next bite of porridge. Gavriel, thankfully, said nothing. And Anneith didn't speak, either. Not a whisper of guidance. It was better that way. To listen to herself. Better that Lorcan kept his distance, too.

Whether the others knew what propelled her, they hadn't said a word. Aelin sheathed Goldryn and loosed a long breath. Deep down, her power grumbled. She flexed her fingers. Maeve's cold, pale face flashed before her eyes. Her magic went silent.

Fenrys sat in wolf form at the edge of the nearest field, staring out across the expanse.

Precisely where he'd been before dawn.

She let him hear her steps, his ears twitching. He shifted as she approached, and leaned against the half-rotted fence surrounding the field.

"Who'd you piss off to get the graveyard shift?" Aelin asked, wiping the sweat from her brow.

Fenrys snorted and ran a hand through his hair. "Would you believe I volunteered for it?" She arched a brow. He shrugged, watching the field again, the mists still clinging to its farthest reaches. "I don't sleep well these days." He cut her a sidelong glance. "I don't suppose I'm the only one."

She picked at the blister on her right hand, hissing. "We could start a secret society-for people who don't sleep well."

"As long as Lorcan isn't invited, I'm in."

Aelin huffed a laugh. "Let it go."

His face turned stony. "I said I would."

"You clearly haven't."

"I'll let it go when you stop running yourself ragged at dawn."

"I'm not running myself ragged. Rowan is overseeing it."

"Rowan is the only reason you're not limping everywhere."

Truth. Aelin curled her aching hands into fists and slid them into her pockets. Fenrys said nothing didn't ask why she didn't warm her fingers. Or the air around them. He just turned to her and blinked three times. Are you all right?

A gull's cry pierced the gray world, and Aelin blinked back twice. No. It was as much as she'd admit. She blinked again, thrice now. Are you all right?

Two blinks from him, too. No,

They were not alright.

They might never be. If the others knew, if they saw past the swagger and temper, they didn't let on.

None of them commented that Fenrys hadn't once used his magic to leap between places. Not that there was anywhere to go in the middle of the sea. But even when they sparred, he didn't wield it. Perhaps it had died with Connall. Perhaps it had been a gift they had both shared, and touching it was unbearable.

She didn't dare peer inward, to the churning sea inside her. Couldn't.

Aelin and Fenrys stood by the field as the sun arced higher, burning off the mists.

Aelin shook her head. Another dream, or hallucination. "If she's on our heels with this army, I'm just ... trying to understand it. Her, I mean."

"You plan to kill her." The gruel in her stomach turned over, but Aelin shrugged. Even as she tasted ash on her tongue.

"Would you prefer to do it?"

"I'm not sure I'd survive it," he said through his teeth. "And you have more of a reason to claim it than I do."

"I'd say we have an equal claim."

His dark eyes roved over her face. "Connall was a better male than—than how you saw him that time. Than what he was in the end."

She gripped his hand and squeezed. "I know."

The last of the mists vanished. Fenrys asked quietly, "Do you want me to tell you about it?" He didn't mean his brother.

She shook her head. "I know enough." She surveyed her cold, blistered hands. "I know enough," she repeated.

[scientia-rex]

A lot of younger people have no idea what aging actually looks and feels like, and the reasons behind it. That ignorance is so dangerous. If you don’t want to “be old,” you aren’t talking about a number of years. I have patients in their late 80s who could still handily beat me in a race—one couple still runs marathons together, in their late 80s—and I lost someone who was in her early 60s to COPD last year. What you want is not youth, it is health.

If you want to still be able to enjoy doing things in your 60s and 70s and 80s and even 90s, what you want to do, right now, is quit smoking, get some activity on a regular basis (a couple of walks a week is WAY better for you than nothing; increasing from 1 hour a day of cardio to 1.5 will buy you very little), and eat some plants. That’s it. No magic to it. No secret weird tricks. Don’t poison yourself, move around so your body doesn’t forget how, and eat plants.

If you have trouble moving around now because of mobility limitations, bad news: you still need to move around, not because it’s immoral not to, but because that’s still the best advice we have. I highly recommend looking up the Sit and Be Fit series; it is freely available and has exercises that can be done in a chair, which are suitable for people with limited mobility or poor balance. POTS sufferers, I’m looking at you.

If you have trouble eating plants because of dietary issues (they cause gas, etc.) or just because they’re bitter (super taster with texture issues here!), bad news. You still want to find a way to get some plants into your body on a regular basis. I know. It sucks. The only way I can do it is restaurants—they can make salads taste like food. I can also tolerate some bagged salads. On bad weeks, the OCD with contamination focus gets so bad I just can’t. However, canned beans always seem “safe,” and they taste a bit like candy, so they’re a good fallback.

If you smoke and you have tried quitting a million times and you’re just not ready to, bad news. You still need to quit. Your body needs you to try and keep trying. Your brain needs it, too. Damaging small blood vessels racks up cumulative damage over time that your body can start trying to reverse as soon as you quit. I know it’s insanely, absurdly addictive. You still need to.

You cannot rules lawyer your way past your body’s basic needs. It needs food, sleep, activity, and the absence of poison. Those are both small things and big asks. You cannot sustain a routine based on punishment, so don’t punish your body. Find ways to include these things that are enjoyable and rewarding instead. Experiment. There is no reason not to experiment—you don’t have to know instantly what’s going to work for you and what won’t, you just need to be willing to try things and make changes when things aren’t working for you.

You will still age. Your body will stop making collagen and elastin. Tissues you can see and tissues you can’t see will both sag. Cushioning tissues under your skin will get thinner. You’ll bruise more easily. Skin will tear more easily. Accumulated sun damage will start to show more and more. Joints will begin to show arthritis. Tendons and ligaments will get weaker and get injured more easily, as will muscles. Bones will lose mass and get easier to break. You’ll get tired more easily.

But you know what makes the difference between being dead, or as good as, in your 60s vs your 90s? Activity, plants, and quitting smoking. And don’t do meth. Saw a 58-year-old guy this week who is going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t quit whatever stimulant he’s on. I pretended to believe it was just the cigarettes, and maybe it is, but meth and cocaine will kill you quicker. Stop poisoning yourself.

Baby steps; take it one step at a time; you don’t need to have everything figured out right now. But you do need to be working on figuring things out.

[phagodyke]

so bad at lethal company there's no saving me..

[fanonsupremecy]

Mickey they could never make me hate you. Even WHEN you were the dirtiest white boy in America. V THAT MAY BE TRUE but he's also soooo pretty so he gets a pass cuz he's so babyboy and babygirl and an angel that deserved so better like fucking love and compassion and pride and adoration from his fucking shithead father. (if you can't tell I'm on my season 2 shit) honestly he was so much more dirty white boy tm in season 1 tho...

”I came out for you, you piece of shit”

YES YOU DID MICKEY. YES THE FUCK YOU DID.